His Nala

Chapter One

It's almost the same to be a werewolf and psychopath – the only difference is that people would probably be more capable of understanding how a werewolf can be a nice person than they would ever understand how a psychopath isn't going around and killing people.

The urge to see something beneath your feet is almost the same, the need to feel superior, to be smarter, wiser, faster, stronger, greater. It's all almost the same.

Plus, both types have more people inside of their minds – except werewolves don't necessarily hear the voice of their Beast, they feel their emotions which is probably way worse.

In the history of werewolf kind, there have been so many of their kind that went completely insane because of how strong those emotions can be, how deeply connected they were.

From a young age, every werewolf was taught how to control their Beast, how to be in command, how to be... themselves.

And yet, not even after years of being taught how to control my Beast, I still had a hard time containing her from time to time.

Probably because she has always been my extreme opposite.

While I had trouble even speaking to people of any kind, she was dominating every kind of interaction. Whenever I struggled to keep my eyes on anyone's, she'd take over the control and look at them directly in the eyes without even blinking – she was even so cocky she'd stare at our Alpha, not submitting.

Luckily for both of us, our Alpha didn't take that too personally since he was our brother-in-law.

Goddess knows what would have happened if we came into a contact with another Alpha. I didn't want to ever find out.

But I loved my Beast, no matter how difficult she was making it to be. She was giving me strength when I thought I'd fall apart, her spirit would comfort me whenever I felt like I didn't belong to this world, and she made me feel welcomed into our Pack whenever I wanted to run away.

Even though I couldn't exactly hear what she was saying, I knew she loved me too. Not only because we were born together into this world, but because we both felt we belonged together from the beginning of a time.

While sitting by my mother's side at the long table, I could feel my Beast's spirit overpowering each Beast's spirit around the table. Through our bond, I felt other Beasts in some strange way – I've never said that to someone because I knew they would send me to a psychiatric institution and have ''fixed''.

I didn't want to be fixed, neither did my Beast want to be touched. She didn't even like when some male would look at us for more than three seconds – including our father.

I never understood why she was so possessive over our body, and yet I never questioned it. It just must be that way.

''So, Nala, have you had any problems lately?''

My father's voice made me raise my gaze from a half-full plate of food in front of me on the table. His eyes were sparkling grey, just like mine were, yet I didn't have any other similarity with him nor my mother.

My mother, Veronica had platinum blonde hair just like two of my sisters, and my father had dark brown hair. Mine was red as a dark flame in the night. They both were lean, build with thin elegant muscles, and I... I was... Well, looking at werewolves' community, overweight. But also looking at human anatomy.

My Beast began to growl through our bond. She hated when father's eyes stayed at our face for too long. I was trying to soothe her somehow, to tell her it was alright, how he'd never hurt us physically.