There's a game I like to play when I'm bored in my room and lack the motivation to partake in any of my usual sanctioned activities. It's called, "guess which one of these stone-faced, mindless drones is my biological father."

I know one of them is. I've seen every male in the pack pass through the house a few times each at least, and I've cataloged them all. Whenever I ask Alpha Rodney who it is, he says I can't know because my real father requested it be kept a secret. Being put in the Alpha's care was for the good of myself and the pack, so everyone said, and my father didn't want me to direct my teenage rage at him when I inevitably didn't understand. So, he watches me from afar, posing as a regular pack member.

If I ever find out who he is, I won't be mad at him. It's not his fault that the Alpha strong-armed him into handing me over. I know he wouldn't have let me go if he had the chance to resist. All I have to do is find him, reconnect with him, and run away with him in the middle of the night to somewhere no one will ever find us.

Step one is proving difficult.

My first guess is David Ascher. He was some kind of scout by trade, or maybe a guard, I couldn't say. All I knew was that when he comes into the Alpha's house, it was normally to inform the pack leadership that something-or-other was happening along the borders of our territory. 

My biggest clue was how similar his face is to mine. Our mouths were built from the same mold; our lower lip bulges in a perpetual pout, and the opening makes the same soft trapezoid when we zone out and let our jaws hang open stupidly. The bridge of his nose is crooked, perhaps a trophy from a tussle with the Cavedwellers, but the tip is the same as mine.

His hair is the only thing that gives me pause. Its black and curly, not what you'd expect on the father of a wavy-haired ginger. I cross my fingers and hope it's really him, that some day he'll walk into the house arm and arm with a red-haired mate to prove me right. That was extremely unlikely—females unrelated to the Alpha weren't allowed in the house, myself and the Luna being the exception—but that's why I like to watch outside. Although the women of the pack couldn't come in, they sometimes passed by the house close enough for me to see out my window.

That was why I spent that afternoon, like most other afternoons, perched on my windowsill, counting the people meandering down the wide path running parallel to the house. It was the busiest time of the day, right after work when most people were heading back home. In my lap was a pad of paper covered with sketches of David Aschera. Alpha Rodney wouldn't let me have a camera, so drawing was the best I could do to study and memorize his appearance. I was sure I'd be able to pick him out, even from my third floor vantage point.

Every day I grew more impatient. I had to see him walking around with one of the pack's redheads. That would be enough for me to make my move; I could never wait for any more evidence than that.

My breath caught in my through when I spotted a curly mop of dark hair bouncing through the crowd. I jolted forward and pressed my nose against the glass. I thought I saw a spot of red nearby him at one point, but now I couldn't tell what it was or where it went. He was dashing towards the house at top speed. My heart sank when I realized no one was with him. Well, even if I couldn't get my answer today, maybe he came bearing some drama that could spice up my stagnant life.

I abandoned my perch and leave my room, hugging the pad of paper to my chest. I wasn't supposed to leave the top floor of the house without permission, but ever since the pipes burst in the upstairs bathroom, getting free access to the lower levels was as easy as feigning a full-bladder dance. I tiptoed down the first flight of stairs and lingered at the top of the second, listening to the sound of David slamming the door behind him.

"Alpha." I didn't need to see to know that David was bowing. He was out of breath. "We have an emergency."

"What now?" Alpha Rodney replied. He sounded more annoyed than worried, and probably was.

"We found Cavedweller tunnels going into our territory," David panted. "We couldn't find the end before we were attacked."

This is where the Alpha was supposed to snap back with his signature "what are you waiting for, take care of it," but it never came. Dead silence hung in the air.

"They know we've found them," he said.

"They're coming?" The Alpha nearly sounded worried now.

"The tunnels went further than the town border. They're already here."

With every word, more of my blood turned to ice. When I wanted drama, I meant some pups breaking the rules, not an invasion. I backed away from the stairs and stumbled into the nearby guest bedroom.

Outside, someone screamed. The hollering spread like a virus through the crowd, the din of panic crescendoing with every step I took towards the window. I dared to look.

Growing up I'd heard a lot of stories about the Cavedwellers. They were a group of wolves too lawless to be called a pack, with no regard for boundaries or the laws of nature. I once heard they get their incredibly burrowing abilities by drinking the blood of meerkats from the disemboweled stomachs of unmated she-wolves, and that their echolocation comes from letting bats piss in their ears. I always figured it was fear-mongering propaganda, but seeing them now I realized that those rumors of black magic, if not completely true, were at least deserved.

They rose from the ground like reanimated corpses, breaking through the pavement as if it was styrofoam. Never in my life had I seen bigger wolves. Backs arched steeply, dirt-matted fur bristling, they stalked towards the few brave fighters who stood their ground among the hysterical masses. Even from afar I could tell their forepaws were massive, with oversized claws like butchers knives. There were only three of them and at least twenty of our men ready to fight, but the pure size difference made me fear for our side.

"ARDEN!"

I flinched at the boom of the Alpha's voice and stumbled back from the window. My first reaction was dread—he caught me—until I realized couldn't care where I was sneaking around at a time like this. In fact, he was probably calling me.

I bolted out of the guest room and down the stairs into the main hall. The first thing I spotted was David. That red I saw earlier wasn't from someone's hair, it was blood. A deep gash ran down his left shoulder. A nearby beta was scrambling to close it.

"Evacuate everyone towards the mountains," the Alpha muttered to Marcus, one of his betas.

Despite the dire situation, my spirits perked. Evacuation meant going outside, and I was part of everyone, wasn't I? Without hesitation I fell in line behind Marcus, ready to follow him out to the mountains. I'd seen them far away through my windows, but I had never been there in person. Running through a warzone was worth the opportunity. But before I could get anywhere, a meaty hand gripped my shoulder, stopping me and spinning me around.

"Not you," Alpha Rodney growled. He sounded stern, as usual, but when I looked up at him I saw panic in his eyes. "You stay in the bunker."

"But Alpha!" I shook my shoulder, as if any contraction of my weak muscles could ever force the Alpha's hand off of me. "They're close, they'll find me in there! I should evacuate with everyone else."

"Absolutely not. Your curse is not leaving this house, I won't allow it."

Of course, my curse. The one that would supposedly cause the end of werewolf kind as we know it if I'm ever allowed outside during the full moon. It was a real concern, real enough that I could forgive the pack for locking me up my entire childhood, but I wasn't a pup anymore. I could keep myself out of the moonlight. Besides, the full moon ended yesterday. This was the safest time of the whole month for me to go out.

"But I'm not dangerous right now!" I argued. "Even if something goes wrong, it won't take me a whole month to get somewhere safe."

He huffed. "I don't have time for this."

For a second, I thought he was letting go of me, but it turned out he was only transferring his grip to my upper arm. I yelped as he pulled me across the room, depositing me in front of his brother, Adam. "Take her to the bunker," Alpha Rodney ordered. "You die before she leaves this building, understood?"

"Yes, Alpha."

It was his turn to drag me now. He lead me down the hall and into the basement. At first I went quietly, not wanting to push the Alpha any further, but once he closed to basement door behind him I looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You're not really going to leave me here, are you?"

Adam hesitated. I knew he always had a soft spot for me, mainly because the man was one giant soft spot. "I know it's counterintuitive, but you really will be safer in the bunker."

"But what if they take over the house and no one comes back for me?"

He frowned, fingers twitching. "I don't like it either," he admitted. "But orders are orders. Someone will come back for you, don't worry." He managed a small smile. "Those freaks up there have never gotten the best of us before, and they're not going to now."

I just sighed.

We reached the bottom of the stairs. He let go of my arm, and while I could have made a break for it, my fighting spirit had faded. I couldn't dream of outrunning him, considering my werewolf powers hadn't come in.

He pushed a pile of cardboard boxes to the side, revealing a very familiar hatch in the floor. He placed his finger against the lock—only the aura of the Alpha or his brother could unlatch it—and lifted the thick, rune-encrusted slab of metal.

I didn't budge. I just stared at my feet. "I just wanted to go to the mountains," I muttered.

His shoulders drooped. I don't know why I kept guilting him, I knew it was too late to get out. Adam was the only decent beta in the house and the last one who deserved this. 

He sighed. "You will someday," he assured me. "Once we find the cure you'll be able to go wherever you want. But that day's never going to come if you don't hide now."

The first part of what he said was almost enough to cheer me up, but before it could, frantic banging and shouting from upstairs made me snap to attention.

"Hurry," Adam hissed. He put his hand on my back and pushed me along towards the hatch. This time, I didn't resist. Eyes glued to the basement stairs, terrified that some monstrous badger-wolf was going to charge in and kill me, I scrambled down the ladder into the bunker. He closed it over me. The chaos was replaced by silence.

One of the bunker's dozens of protective enchantments was soundproofing. No matter how much I whined and complained and banged on the door, no one outside would hear me. This feature was invaluable back when I was an obnoxious little kid, both to keep me safe and hidden during invasions and to protect the Alpha's sanity. The downside is that the soundproofing works both ways. I couldn't hear a peep of the fight going on above me, leaving me with no indication of what was going on, and with nothing to do but wait.

I flicked a switch, flooding the concrete room with cold light of fluorescent bulbs. This place used to fill me with dread, but for the past few years it had only given me a feeling of exhausted resignation. There were only four things that brought me down here—full moons, injection treatments, punishment for disobeying the Alpha, and emergencies like this—none of which were enjoyable. The fact that I'd just been freed from this underground prison yesterday made my situation all the more disheartening.

At least I had food. I wandered to the stack of rations in the corner. There was enough canned food and jugs of water to last me a good week or two down here. Normally the supply would be diminished after a full moon, but last time the Alpha decided to try a new injection on me. Not only did it fail to undo my curse, it made me so nauseous that I couldn't eat anything for days. I still didn't have much of an appetite. Whether it was a side effect of the injection or of my sinking fear that everyone I knew was being ripped to shreds by Cavedwellers, I couldn't tell.

I spotted the needle and glass medicine bottle discarded in the corner, shimmering with green residue. According to my doctor it was some kind of magical algae imported from the Amazon. I couldn't believe that quack injected that muck into my bloodstream. Whatever appetite I had was definitely gone now.

Defeated, I slid down the wall as far from the needle as I could. My sketch pad was still under my arm. I could always doodle if my head stopped spinning long enough for me to get bored. 

A loud pop sounded. A second later, the room was dark.

I jolted and swore. Of course a light went out, just my luck. Now I got to wait in the darkness while my whole pack was slaughtered.

Except it wasn't just one light. There were half a dozen fluorescent bulbs in here. The chances of them all burning out at once was astronomical. Impossible.

Dread soaked into my gut like water into a sponge. I pressed myself against the wall, eyes darting back and forth, but it was too dark to see anything. 

With the soundproofing I shouldn't have been able to hear anything but my own breathing. But there was something else, louder and louder with each passing second.

Scratching. Cracking. 

And then, worst of all, a low, rumbling, terrifying voice.