When I woke up on an hospital bed two days later, I couldn't understand how I was actually still alive. And I was not the only one. The doctors said that I had been practically dead by the time I was brought to the ER, but then I miraculosly recovered on my own. God's mercy was the only possible reason of my survival I found at the time. Evidently it was not my time to die. But then, much later, I learnt that it was not God who had saved my life, but my savior had been the venom from the wolf's bite.

When a werewolf bites someone he injects a powerful venom in the blood flow, which heals the injuries or the diseases that someone could possibly have. Just like a virus, it needs an healty organism to reproduce itself and to incorporate its DNA with the host's one.
The venom saved me, curing and healing my injuries in order to attack my cells and cohabit with them, changing me from the inside.

At the time, however, I was not aware of that.
For the following three weeks I was physically fine, even if I was feeling strangely stronger than usual. In addiction, I felt like there was something scratching in the back of my mind, like an hitch wanting to get free. I didn't pay attention to that as I thought it was just a case of post-traumatic headache, stimulated by the stress of the attack.

Then, four days later came the full moon.

For a werewolf by birth the first shift takes one hour max to complete: it's extremely painful, but they are taught since young years of age how to accept the bond with their wolf and bearing the pain of the trasformation is just a step to connect themselves with the deepest, the wildest part of their soul. In a case like mine, in which I was forced to shift, the process is much longer, much more painful and mostly much more dangerous. Many humans who are bitten don't survive the shift, expecialy females, because the pain and the stress the human body is subject to sometimes are just too much to handle that the body's sistems slowly stop working, taking the individual to certain death. The few who survive are gifted with weak and submissive wolves, mostly omegas, because the immunity sistem of the host tried to fight the venom, causing the human body to not be able to bear the perfect integration with the werewolf genes.

Well, that worked for everyone except for me.

Flashback: four years prior

It started when I was still working at the hospital. I felt like I was burning. A scorching fire slowly conquered my veins, spreading from my loins to my very core, making me feel lightheaded and dizzy, but I was nearly done with my shift so I gritted my teeth and carried on. Then, when I was on my way home, the most painful headache I had ever had came to knock me out of my mind.
I rushed home and took two tablets of ibuprofen to erase the pain I was feeling, running a cold bath afterwards to cool down my high temperature. The cold water worked just fine, making me feel slightly better, so I decided to relax in the bathtube just a little bit more.

By the time I was finished with my bath it was dark outside, so I decided to eat a light dinner and to go straight to bed to rest.

Then, the bone snapping came.

I woke up to the feeling of an immense pain throbbing in my fingers, finding myself tangled in a mess of sweaty sheets. A layer of sweat covered my flushed body, a body that was conquered by a burning heat once again. Kicking away the sheets, I was finally able to take a look at my throbbing hands.

I paled.

My usually long, tanned and straight fingers were now crooked, bent in unnatural angles, their bones snapping and rearranging themselves continuously.

My mind was actually too occupied by the unbearable pain I was feeling to try to understand what was happening to me. I hastily jumped off the bed to retrieve my phone in order to try to call 911 but, on my way to the nightstand, a second wave of pain came from my left calf, making me collapse to the ground.

Still crouched on the floor, I gripped tightly my injured calf, screaming in pain at the contact. Tears blurred my vision when I felt the tibia snap and pierce my skin.

What was happening to me?! Was I dreaming? How was possible that my body was acting that way? In all my medical career, albeit short, I had never heard about a situation like mine, where the bones were snapping and rearranging themselves on their own accord.

I was still gripping tightly my left leg to try to prevent the hemorrhage when my right shoulder snapped, bending my arm unnaturally backwards. To say I was in pain was an understatement. I felt like someone was sawing my arm off my body, pulling and cracking my bones savagely with their hacksaw.

My face was soaked with tears, entering my mouth with the mucus coming from my nasal cavity, and my throat was harsh, resembling sandpaper by all the screaming I had done.

I had completely lost the concept of time, not knowing for how long I had been suffering, if for hours or merely minutes. Almost every one of my bones had snapped and rearranged itself at least once, leaving me breathless and convulsing on the ground of my bedroom. The pain I felt was so deep that it made me nearly numb: my body was now accustomed to the ache, not reacting anymore to every new wave of pain.

For the second time in a month I believed I was going to die and, despite everything, I welcomed the thought. I was fightless. I just wantend to collapse and welcome the numbness Death would bring with her.
I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths and awaiting for the end.

Suddenly a force broke into my mind pleading me to fight, to stay alive, to not surrender to the kiss of death. It soothed me, conforted me, urged me to live, to go through that immense pain because, in the end, it was going to worth the struggle.

Hell, I had never been a quitter. Never in my life I surrendered during difficult situations, fighting with teeth and nails to always succeed. I would not start to throw the towel just now.

I listened to the strange presence scratching in my head and, with all the remaining strenght I had, I began to crawl on the ground, pinning on my forearms to try to reach the medical kit I had in the bathroom. I bumped my deformed shoulder on the cupboard near the sink managing to make the kit fall to the ground. A bolt of pain ran through my already injured flesh, causing a hiss to escape my dry lips.
With shaking and broken fingers I searched inside the case for what I was needing and, when I couldn't find them, I toppled it, spilling its content on the ground.

I tremblingly opened a syringe and filled it with  10 ml of adrenalin. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to gather courage. I actually never had to prevent a cardiac arrest before so saying that I was scared shitless was saying it poorly.
Anyway, it was not the time to be scared and insecure. Determination filled me and with a swift movement I plunged the needle in my chest, injecting the substance directly in my heart.

Taking out the syringe with shaking hands, I refilled it with 5 ml of Toradol and inserted it in my shoulder. My work was done, I couldn't do anything else.
I crouched on the ground, praying for the pharmaceuticals to have effect. My eyes were closed and puffy as I silently waited for my fate to present itself.
Would I survive? Would I die? I had no certainty about the percentage of survival my actions could bring, especially since I had absolutely no idea about what was medically happening to me.

Thump.
Thu-thump.
Thump.
Thu-thump.

I opened my eyes at the feeling on my heart slowly starting beating faster and faster, each new pulse restoring hope in me, till it reached a physiological rhytm.

It worked.

I let out a breath of relief, but the feeling of calmness was short lived. A terrible headache spread through my head, making me feel as it was split in two.
The strange presence was scratching in the back of my mind, making its presence increasingly stronger. It was pleading me to let my guard down and to let it take over, to guide me through whatever was happening to me.
I had no strength anymore, my body terribly sore and numb, so I succumbed to its wishes, letting the force overpower me in my own mind.

Suddenly the sensation of pride overcame my wholeness, but it wasn't coming from me. Whatever the hell that force was it was proud of my success, proud of me to have fought for my life.

Slowly, the pain started to decrease, abandoning firstly my libs and then my core,  and gradually slowed away till it disappeared completely. I was relieved that it was over.

I felt strange.

I felt different.

I felt strong.

I felt a foreign power run in my veins, engoulfing my entire being in a state of bliss.

The cry of a child brought me out of my thoughts. I frowned. There were no children in my palace as the nearest one was living two houses down the street and it was humanly impossible for me to hear him cry.
Then, I heard a woman shouting and I instantly recognized the voice as the one belonging to Mrs. Robertson, an old lady who lived across the street with her five cats and two dogs. She was probably scolding the latter as Buttermilk, her Golden Retriever, had the habit of pooping directly in front of the door.

What the fuck?! Why was I able to listen to such distant sounds?

I snapped my eyes open and I gasped. I could perfectly distinguish every little detail in my surroundings. I roamed my eyes around the room and noticed specifics I never did: a spider tessing its spiderweb in a corner on the roof, a small crack at the bottom of my bathtube, the particles of dust on the sill of the window. 

What the hell?! What the hell was happening to me? I was freaking out bad. Had the painkiller drugged me? Was I having a mental trip?

I lowered my gaze and froze.
Panic began settling in my stomach as my eyes observed a pair of big silvery furred paws instead of my hands. I closed my eyes, hoping that the previuos pain played tricks on my mind and prayed that once I reopened them I would stare at my light tanned, long fingers.
Unfortunately, no fingers came in view.

I screamed.

Surprisingly it wasn't a scream that exited my throat, but it was a growl, sounding just like the ones that I heard the night the feral canine attacked me.
I panicked.
Shit, I was sure of having dosed the analgesic correctly, but the things I was experiencing could not be real, could they? Was I dreaming? I had to. The pain I felt, however, seemed too real, eradicated too deep in my bones to be just pure imagination.

The force in my head overpowered my resolution once again, pushing me forward as my legs began to move on their own accord. My body moved sinuously at the command, reminding me of the predators I enjoyed watching on Animal Planet once in a while. Ridiculously, I felt like one of them.
My legs stopped moving in front of the full-lenght mirror I had in the hallway just outside my bedroom, allowing me to take a look at myself.

What I saw shocked me to the very depth of my core.

Big paws with sharp and deadly claws were connected to four strong and lean legs and to a toned torso, muscles bulging powerfully under a thick coat of long and silky silvery fur with sprinkles of black and white.

I raised my gaze until I met a pair of golden eyes that were staring right back at me: they seemed so familiar, yet so forgein at the same time.
They fascinated me.
Appealed to me.
Called to me.
They resembled two pools of swirling melted gold, gargling and raging like golden lava. I was stunned by their intensity, by their humanity, by their intelligence.

Then it settled.

I was staring back at myself.
I was a wolf.
And there was someone else in my head.

End of flahsback.

After that day I stayed locked at home for nearly a week. I called sick at work and avoided contact with everybody as I strongly believed that I had gone insane. However, in the deep on my mind I knew I wasn't. I was aware of the changes my body was experiencing: my senses were enanched, my body temperature was slightly higher than normal and I was stronger than I had ever been. But I was fine, I was not sick.
The most prominent development, however, was the presence of my wolf in the back of my mind. It was strange and slightly disturbing to have someone else in my head, but after all she was an enjoyable presence. She understood me, she guided me, she cared for me. It seemed like we were two long lost pieces of a single soul which finally reunited.

It took me months to finally accept her and what I had become, while putting on a mask every time I was at work or I was with someone I knew. I had to behave like nothing changed in my life. However, despite my attempts at maintain things normal, they changed drastically. I slowly began to distance myself from my friends and my family, blaming my studies and my work for a lack of time, because I had to protect my secret. I had to protect myself from being captured and studied.

I initially spent my free time doing research.
I researched about wolves' behaviors and werewolves' tales. I learnt that wolves usually live in a pack, but some can decide to live on their own like lone wolves, and they are leaded by the strongest couple, the Alpha Male and the Alpha Female. I also learnt that they mate for life as they choose to have just one partner until they die.

About werewolves I found almost nothing, but it was understandable as their existence was to be maintained unknown to the human world.

The only proves I found about them were old and novelized tales, like the one about people called The Shifters who could shift themselves into wolves during a full moon night. That was not the truth anyway: as a werewolf I could shift into my beastly side regardless the presence of the full moon or not.
In addiction to finding those tales, I also learnt that werewolves too, like wolves, have a "soulmate" for life: the Moon Goddess, the mother of wolf shifters, gifted everyone of them with a mate. It was said that mates were the half of heach other soul and that the bond between them provided the pair with a love unrivalled by others.

Despite the lack of information I found, I knew that somewhere out there there were people like me, starting with the one who turned me.

I needed to find someone like me.
I needed answers.

My beast agreed with me. She was feeling lonely and, as an pack animal, she needed the presence of someone like us.

I spent my days researching for hidden clues that could lead us to finally find other werewolves.
I was on the verge of desperately giving up when one day I finally found one. There was a very closed off comunity in Alaska that lived isolated in the middle of the woods, the typical place a pack of wolves would settle into. Deciding to try my luck, as I had nothing to lose, I travelled to Alaska to seek the answers I so fervently desired.
When I came in contact with them I was enthusiast and full of hope for a possible new future ahead of us. They were definetly like me, I could see their wild in their eyes and smell it on their skin too.

Sadly, the outcome of the trip didn't go as planned. They didn't accept me among them, quite the opposite honestly. Upon inspecting me they called me an abomination, saying that the Divinity of Darkness brought me to Earth to destroy the Moon Goddess' children. It was then that I discovered that I was an Alpha Female, a female born to lead, born to make other wolves bow in submission. They said that humans who were bitten, in the low chance of surviving the transformation, were destined to be weak wolves, omegas, and not an Alpha, expecialy not a female one. The Alpha of the pack banned me from their territory, making me promise to never return on their land.
At the time I didn't know why he was doing that but now I know that he was scared of losing his Alpha title to me as I was capable of overpower him in a duel.

I was heartbroken. My own kind didn't want me, they disrespected me, making me feel an abomination. They were blaming me for something I had no control over, for something I didn't even require for myself. My wolf was outraged too but, despite being the feral part of me, she behaved like the more rational one. She calmed my rage and soothed my heartbreak, promising me that we would get revenge.
She wanted to show them the real power we carried with our title, becoming stronger and wiser, an invincible being made of beast and human integrated in only one body.

I listened to her wishes and accepted my fate.
I trained hard. When I wasn't working at the hospital I was at the gym, learning how to fight, and at night I was in the woods, improving how to shift smoothly between our two forms.
The mental connection between me and my beast grew stronger along with our training, letting us reach a level of intimacy I had never felt even with myself.

With the passing of time we became powerful, fierce and in a couple of years we turned into a deadly Alpha Female. The occasional rendez-vous with other lone wolves in the city showed it. Most of them didn't survive our encounters and the few who did cowered under the power of my aura, of my wolf.

I was a lone Alpha Female, but that didn't matter until I had my beast with me.

——

So, with this chapter we discovered Lara's past. What do you think about it?
Let me know! ✨
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Kate