RED ROCK SHIFTERS

PROLOGUE

It all started with a murder that led to a bloody war where there could be no winners. Yet despite all the blood that was shed, and the hatred that spread like wildfire, a miracle was born. Without that war my life would have been very different and my little miracle would never have happened.

My name is Isabella Martinez and I am a Werewolf.

I know what you’re thinking too. You’re thinking that I’m obviously off my meds because there is no such thing as Werewolves and the supernatural doesn’t exist. I wish I had the luxury of making up such a thing. The truth of the matter is that I was raised in a pack of bloodthirsty werewolves in which my father was the most vicious of them all.

As a rule most werewolves are big and tough and follow their own rules. Even in the shifter community though there are laws that must be obeyed. They don’t necessarily include human laws but the shifters make sure that if their laws are broken then punishments are swiftly given.

My father was the Alpha of our pack and he didn’t believe in following anyone’s laws but his own. He didn’t give a shit that the laws he was breaking were punishable by death. All he cared about was that he got what he wanted. It was never going to end well when what my father wanted most was to be the Alpha of all the wolves. He was a psychotic bastard and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps.

I can remember the first time that I realised what we were really capable of and the reason why any human would be terrified of us. I was only six at the time and my father wanted me to kill a man simply because he had decided to leave the pack. He had only wanted to go and live an ordinary life with his pregnant and very human girlfriend. My father wouldn’t allow that though. He was too much of a control freak to ever allow anyone to leave his pack. Instead he decided that it would be excellent training for me. He wanted me to shift and kill the man but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even realise at the time that the fact I could shift at all was a miracle, as most shifters couldn’t do that until they went through puberty. My father was disappointed that I couldn’t shift and kill a man for him so instead he gave me a gun and ordered me to shoot him instead.

I couldn’t do it.

How many of you could kill a man?

I was six years old and my father wanted me to shoot a man dead. I cried and begged him not to make me do it but my father wasn’t about to let me grow up innocent and happy. He gave the order for me to kill and he expected to be obeyed. When I refused and cried and begged he simply added incentive.

My mother had been begging him not to make me kill someone but all she got for her troubles was my father’s claws at her throat as he issued his ultimatum to me. Either I shot this man that my father saw as a traitor or I watched as he killed my mother. Even at six I knew that he was deadly serious.

I made my choice and even though I knew what I was doing was wrong I still screwed my eyes tightly shut and pulled the trigger. I heard the shot and it sounded like an explosion in my small ears. Tears streamed down my face and I shook with the horror of what I had done. Only when I opened my eyes did I realise that my aim hadn’t exactly been dead on and all I had done was wound the man. At first this relieved me because surely even someone as twisted, as my father would have realised that I had done my best. My father didn’t take kindly to failure.

I had barely even felt that small trickle of relief before he had slashed my mother’s throat and left her to bleed out on the floor. I remember turning and finding her on the ground with her eyes unseeing and blood all around her. I had rushed to her side as I screamed and cried and begged for her not to leave me. It was to late though for my beautiful mother was gone and I was all alone with the monster that called himself my father. I didn’t even get to see the man I had shot go back to his family. Instead my father picked up the gun I had dropped and shot him himself. Then he had turned to me and told me that if I ever disobeyed an order again he would make sure I regretted it.