Moonlight

pack mates

Chapter I

William Swan had never given much thought to his mortality, or pondered his death, until his imminent mortal end was taken away.

In all fairness it had been his own fault. He really shouldn't have entered a property without being invited in, but in his defense he had a spare key. And he'd only been there in the first place to return said key, and drop off the latest Econ homework from the class he shared with his best friend, Lizzie. When both her and her partner, James, had failed to answer the door, William thought nothing of it. It wasn't until he heard a scream so agonizing, so feral, that he'd entered the house without thinking twice.

What had first appeared to be human noises quickly morphed into animalistic wails. William naively thought nothing of it, only concerned for the well-being of the animal, and since the darkened house appeared empty, it was his responsibility to help the poor creature. When he'd reached the cellar and pried open the doors, it was indeed an animal, or two.

He really hadn't meant to get bitten. He really shouldn't have gotten as close to the strange, chained canine creatures as he did at all. Though William wasn't known to make the smartest decisions in the face of danger, especially when something or someone was hurt. His mother always said he'd been too sweet– too kind.

He didn't feel sweet or kind anymore.

He felt like a monster, doomed to the fate of losing his mind beneath the weight of moonlight. A creature of the night–a werewolf.

Though the harsh description was a bit hypocritical when he'd look at his two pack mates and only see pure good. But they weren't like him. His beast was violent and rageful–the transformation more painful than what it should be. He'd claw himself raw until he was a bleeding, quivering mess on the floor. The scars on his body only served as reminders that everything was just wrong; he wasn't meant for this immortal life.

Lizzie believed his agony could be solved by finding a mate–finding his one. But he didn't want a mate. He didn't even want to be a werewolf.

The disease had slowly separated him from his family. He didn't last remember when he spoke to his mother or father, but he had never felt close to them to begin with. Rene was too aloof and Charlie too distant. It was his younger sister, Bella, he was most longing for. She'd always looked up to him and he felt despicable for cutting her out of his life. Last he'd remembered she was riddled with nerves and moving to Forks, Washington, to live with their father and complete high school. That was a year ago.

He'd been a werewolf for eleven months now, trapped in monstrous immortality and physically stuck at twenty-two. He truly felt like he was losing a grip on reality– happiness dwindling. He was–

"Angsting again?"

William opens his eyes from where he's sprawled on the couch and is met with a view of piercing azure eyes and cascading golden hair. Elizabeth– Lizzie– Camden is strikingly beautiful, and even William, in all his gay glory, can't help the quickening beat of his heart when he looks at her.

She had been the one who had accidentally bitten him, but he never held any ill will towards her. It was his fault after all.

Lizzie was born in 1845 to simple merchants. She was engaged quite late at nineteen years to a man thrice her age that she held no feelings for, desperate to escape the impending marriage. It was fate that she had met James Camden a week before the wedding. He'd instantly been tied to her, and even as a human, Lizzie knew he was meant for her too.

They had run far away, escaping England and traveling to the American colonies. James had claimed her once they'd settled in America, and they'd spent immortality as a duo, that is, until William had entered their lives.