City of Blood

01

The coven house always has the faint scent of blood drifting through it. Even after living here for seventeen years, the smell always stands out to me and Dad tells me it's because my natural instinct is to search for a pack scent which doesn't really exist here. Covens are different from werewolf packs; I don't know what a pack is like because I've never been in one, but since I'm a werewolf, my instincts still seek out what feels natural.

When I was a pup, Dad found me on the edge of a pack's territory. While werewolves and vampires usually hate each other, Dad always tells me that hate isn't born, it's taught. When he discovered an abandoned werewolf pup in the middle of winter, he couldn't leave me to die. He took me back to the vampire coven, and when he inquired about a missing pup amongst the local packs, no one claimed me.

I grew up as a werewolf in a vampire coven.

They're my family, even if they aren't what I am.

Vampires keep to themselves for the most part, so my family is much smaller than a traditional pack, but it's not like I can compare them too much. I never lived in a pack and unless you're mated into one, most packs don't allow random wolves to join. Especially not one like me; I'm close enough to adulthood to be considered a threat, plus I'm an Alpha.

I don't know why I'd be abandoned, but I don't think I was the child of a rogue. Even rogues don't leave their pups behind, much less an Alpha pup. Alphas are valued for our strength and protective instincts, both of which I possess even without living in a pack.

Dad has played the father role in my life. He used to have a mate... well, vampires don't call their partners "mates" and they don't work the same way as werewolf mates. Anyway, he had a wife but she passed away when his oldest child was eight. Dad has four kids, including me.

Raina is the oldest of us. She's twenty six and she doesn't really like me; ever since we were little and I was adopted we have often avoided each other. We're civil but I know that she doesn't like me. Since her mom died around the time I was taken in, I think she associates my existence with her mom's death.

Joseph is twenty two and he's the older brother that everyone deserves. He has always treated me as a blood sibling and has been my protector in a way. Every time we have to attend an event, Joseph stays close to me and makes sure no one comments on a werewolf being in a crowd of vampires.

Ramsay is the youngest of the three, and he's only a couple of months older than me, but because of our birthdays, he's already eighteen and I'm still seventeen. He and I are as close as siblings can be; we've been inseparable since we were little since we were raised together and, unfortunately for Dad, we have a tendency to get ourselves into trouble.

We have been chased off of werewolf pack grounds countless times since we'll dare each other to see how close we can get to the center of the grounds without being caught. There's two packs close to us, but one is way more local than the other and it's only a thirty minute run to get there. It gives us both an adrenaline rush to escape pack grounds and neither of us dwells on the fact that we'd likely be killed if we were to be caught.

Dad hates that we do that. We have spent a good deal of our younger lives with our noses in opposite corners.

I walk downstairs and open the fridge, debating what I want for breakfast. Even though my siblings and Dad rely on blood to stay healthy, they also enjoy normal food. There's always plenty of raw meat in the fridge so I can switch up whether or not I want raw or cooked meat.

Meat isn't the only food I eat, though. I have a sweet tooth and I love to bake, so I take a can of cinnamon rolls out of the fridge and turn on the oven. This doesn't really count as baking, but I still enjoy it. Well, except for having to pop the can open; I hate that part.