The Pack of Werewolves

Draco ran after the deer, the thrill of the chase coursing through his body. His limbs stretched, and his breath wheezed out of his lungs as adrenaline pumped through him.

He could hardly feel his one hundred and twenty-five years of age, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he salivated to eat the deer later in the night with his friends.

He lived for this. He craved this. He had missed it.

As an alpha, he could have whatever portion of meat he desired even if he decided not to hunt for years, but he had missed the thrill of the chase.

Memories flashed back in his mind as he remembered the good old days when he was trained to hunt by his father.

Tears pooled in his eyes, threatening to spill out as the images of his family popped up in his mind.

He missed them. He missed the deep baritone chuckle his father gave when he was amused, the soft and gentle manner in which his mother sang when she was happy, and the funny ways his younger sister had laughed when she was thrown up in the air.

He focused on the deer sprinting in front of him and stretched, his jaws widening.

He leaped in one big jump and got on the back of the deer, trampling it down. The deer struggled, its eyes going around with horror at the fear of death, its legs shooting out and kicking as its body twisted, trying to overthrow Draco, but he wasn’t having any of that.

His teeth clamped down on the neck of the deer, his mouth twisting and yanking at the flesh, ignoring the wild cries of the animal.

He sighed in delight as blood gushed out of the wound on its neck, happily lapping at it. He pulled at the neck one more time till he was satisfied the animal was dead.

He stepped off its body, stretching his limbs, his body alight with excitement as he shifted back into human form.

He dragged the deer by its hind legs through the forest, not interested in carrying it on his neck to avoid being soaked by the blood.

He got to where his clothes were, dressed, and continued his journey. He itched to get home, back to his pack.

Even though he had lost his immediate family to a war years back between his pack and another pack, he had found solace in stepping up as the alpha of the pack.

He shuddered at so many wars his pack had had to fight and was grateful they wouldn’t have to fight another one.

He shuddered as he thought of the war his father had told him their pack had with the witches of Myruim Falls.

It had been ages, but he still cringed when he remembered how his father had painted the gory details of the war in his mind as a young wolf pup.

It had been a nasty war, with the witches having the highest record of casualties. They had screamed murder, promising revenge as they fled back to their lands, but no such war had ever happened to their land again.

Draco’s father had told him he didn’t trust the witches and that they simply couldn’t have forgotten their grudges when nothing odd had happened to the land, but Draco believed otherwise.

He always chuckled and told his father that he was just paranoid. If the weather had changed suddenly, his father would perk up in alarm and shout that the witches were to be blamed.

As far as Draco knew, the witches were weak and had surrendered, and no dark magic could taint the Raine Mountains, where they all lived, to affect the wolves in a negative manner.

If nothing else, he would die protecting his pack. That was the duty he had sworn to do when he became the ruler. He had promised his father – as he watched him die on the battlefield, their palms clenched tightly around each other’s, crying together as death stood nearby, waiting for his father to give up his will to live – that he would take care of the pack, watch out for them, and make sure nothing happened to them.

The clouds darkened suddenly, and he glanced upwards, a frown peeking on his face as he wondered what was wrong. It wasn’t the rainy season, and the sun was expected to blaze all through the day.

The Raine Mountains were known for their incessant rainfall, but there were times like it was at the moment that the rain retired and went on predicted breaks. 

Draco shook his head as he imagined what his father would have said if he had been there on the hunt with him. His heart jumped and skipped a beat, and he looked around in fear, wondering what was wrong, thinking in the light of how his father would have thought when lightning zapped across the surface of the sky and thunder rumbled.

He shrugged and continued on his journey, humming one of his favorite childhood songs to himself as he thought of getting home, resting, and afterward tearing into the pieces of the meat after it was cooked by one of the females in the pack.

His cooking was done by the females in the pack, a contest that never ceased to amaze him. He relished the memory of how he had had to settle a dispute between Eva and Brianna.

The female wolves had all accused Eva of taking over his kitchen and acting like she was the mate of the alpha.

Eva had insisted that she was just his childhood best friend and saw no crime in making sure he was well-fed irrespective of his status in the pack.

He smiled, knowing they would eventually get into a scrabble on who to cook the meat.

He rolled his shoulders, making his way quickly home. He knew what he would have to do.

He would have Eva sit with him and have the other females cook. Moreover, he had missed being with her. 

He longed for the days he sat with her when they were growing up and stared at the stars together.

He was grateful to have her as a friend. It felt refreshing to have a female he could relax and have fun with when he got tired of dealing with testosterone-filled males in the pack without any expectations from both sides.

He staggered as he stepped on the border to their lands, feeling dizzy, and clenched his nose in disgust at the stench in the air.

The land was eerily silent, and he moved forward, his heart beating with trepidation as he dragged his feet, looking all around the buildings. 

“Eva?” he called out, surprised he had already moved into the town, but no one was coming out to welcome him.

He wouldn’t have walked as far as he had done without people coming out in gushes as they sniffed his arrival.

“Eva?” he called again. “Are you all hiding from me?”

“Bane?” He shouted for his right-hand man, moving toward the houses they all lived in.

“Hazea? Asherica? Caroline?” He shouted.

He wondered what was going on with them all. He checked the corridors asking himself if it could be possible for them to be doing hide and seek with him. 

He squeezed his nose, sniffing the air to get where they were, and chuckled when he got a whiff in the direction of the cave.

He walked there, his feet biting the floor at paces more than he usually walked. 

Those naughty ones! He thought to himself and chuckled. He was sure hiding in the cave had been one of the twins’ idea, and they had succeeded in convincing the rest to follow suit.

The older ones had all been killed in the last war, and the age ranges of those Draco led were his age mates and those beneath them.

At times, he wondered what his father would have thought of the pack if he had been alive to see them at the moment.

They all lived together, laughing, eating, and playing with no hierarchy except when they had issues where Draco had to act like the alpha that he was.

He knew his father would grunt as theirs had been a reign where everyone had their order, but Draco loved it the way it was. 

He knew everyone by name, and they were all free to associate with him. He loved that he was more a friend to his pack than a ruler.

They had all lost someone during the war, and he had felt it essential that they lived more as a family who could have fun and heal together than as a pack that had to struggle to maintain some hierarchy structure that was not of use to them.

His heart lightened as he thought of his pack members hiding in the cave, waiting for him to find them and yell out at him, with smiles expecting him to be surprised.

He moved with ease and grace, his smile intact, practicing how he would react.

His earlier fear that something had happened to them had dissipated from his mind. He wondered as he moved if he should yell and tell them to come out, pretend to be looking for them and act surprised when they all come barging out of their hiding spots.

He would scowl and yell at them for almost giving him a heart attack. Those naughty brats! He thought and chuckled to himself.

The cave was wide, and its entrance was also high, big enough to contain the wolves all and allow the passage of ten wolves into it at the same time. It had been used to protect the women and the children during the war, but now, it was used by Draco and his pack to hide when they were in wolf forms or when the full moon was up.

“Eva?” he called out. 

He staggered backward in shock and dismay when Eva came out in her wolf form and barked at him, threatening to tear him to pieces. The twins came out, also in their wolf forms and with the same attitude.

He frowned, his heart racing in fear as the rest of the wolves came out of their hiding spots, growling at him.

This play was getting too rough, he muttered to himself, suddenly realizing why his father had never allowed familiarity with the wolves as he had done.

He knew what he had to do, though he felt reluctant to. He closed his eyes, ground his teeth together, and growled.

His eyes snapped open in shock. He tried again and got the same thing. Instead of the alpha’s growl, which was supposed to force them all to turn back to humans, what came out of his throat was a pitiful whine which sounded ridiculous to even his ears.

He shook his head in dismay and willed his wolf to take over his head, and gasped when he felt no sensation. He stretched his senses and allowed them to roam and almost choked on the stench of dark magic in the area. He had perceived it lightly when he had entered the land but had dismissed it.

The aura of black magic was abundant in the cave, and he realized that the witch had had their revenge on his people while he was absent, and he had also been affected by stepping on the land which had been cursed.

He wondered if he could have avoided the fate of his pack getting cursed and regretted spending too much time chasing the deer, tears misting in his eyes that his pack had lost their humanity while he had lost the power to shift into a wolf.