Cursed Mates

Attack

Werewolves have a culture that focuses entirely on who is the best, the strongest, the fastest and most powerful. And what makes a wolf more powerful? Well, status- money, placement in a pack (usually, a wolf is born into their status), and political power in a town. Second, physical features- height, thicker bones and broader faces, larger muscles, conditioning, and heavier weight, larger bodies, bigger and sharper teeth. Third, ability- how much weight can you hold, how loud can you howl, how fast can you run, how strong is the scent of your mark? And fourth, advancements- sharper and stronger metal armour, larger and more structurally sound buildings, larger territories and more resources, larger packs with stronger wolves or multiple alphas. Some packs obtained stronger wolves by culling out the weak.

I was an omega. Omegas are not allowed to reproduce in a pack. And yet, my parents, both omegas, had me.

They were killed for their actions after had been born. I, however, got to stay alive.

But it was no life. I worked tirelessly, 10-12 hours a day, cleaning the pack house, cooking for the werewolves... and I got the worst room in the pack house, a cold, damp basement room with no heating or air conditioning, and nothing but a single bed. I was treated poorly, both at school and by the adults in the pack.

But I would be turning 18 tomorrow, and then I would find my mate, and everything would change. We could run away together, or perhaps I'd be mated to a higher-status member and life would get better for me.

Just one more night. I was trying not to cry in both fear and relief.

I was laying in bed, exhausted, my body tired after a hard day's worth of work whenever howls sounded outside. Panicked, scared howls.

That's unusual.

I jumped out of bed, racing up the stairs to the ground floor of the large communal building. What could possibly be going on at this time of night? I raced outside. The moon was high, casting an illuminating, blue-tinted glow over the entire territory, buildings and trees and all. I stepped out into the cold night's air, watching as the black silhouette of many wolves raced through the forest. It was a shock to see, and I could hear the fast-paced thumping of my own heartbeat, blood rushing loudly in my ears, my breathing fast. I noticed the physical effects of my fear and anxiety before the mental ones. The racing thoughts, the worry... it strained my head and blurred my vision.

What is happening?

The air was thick with the musky stench of blood, my pack's familiar smell, and the scent of an unfamiliar pack.

Oh, no. We were being invaded.

I'd heard of invasions, and of course our pack has had to fend off a few other packs before, as well as squabbling about borders and resources and territory sizes, blah blah blah... But I had never seen an invasion on this scale before.

The other pack was more powerful. Their wolves were huge, dominant, tails raised and fangs bared, many wearing military vests (similar to the kind that police or military dogs wore), spiked collars, or visor helmets to protect them. I even noticed a few had docked tails and cropped ears to prevent them from being grabbed during battle. I could only wonder how these cosmetic changes translated to these wolves' human forms.

The attacking pack had my pack members running away with their tails tucked. After having only seen my pack being dominant and aggressive towards me, it was certainly a sight to see. It was enthralling as well as terrifying. Some part of me was smiling, thinking they finally all got what they deserved after their treatment of me and my parents. Part of me was terrified- what kind of dangerous pack could have these strong werewolves running with their tails tucked?

The attacking pack seemed to be made up of almost entirely alpha-lineage wolves. That was their trick in defeating us, a well-sized and well-established town, so easily.

Our alpha, Zachary, raced across the moonlit clearing and fearlessly into the forest, where screams were heard.

I shook off the buzzing fear and soaked in the powerful adrenaline, then morphed. My wolf was nothing special, which was typical of omegas. He was your typical grey wolf, with a thick coat of muddled greys, blacks, browns, and naturalistic oranges, with a lighter undercoat and darker face. I shook out my coat, hoping to shake off the fear as well, and then plunged into the battlefield, which happened to be the forested portion where our training and hunting grounds were, rather than the urbanised section of our county.

When I raced into the forest, the ruthless battle seemed to slow to a complete pause, as if the wolves were all frozen in time. In reality, we all stood stock-still of fear in a crowd surrounding two opposing alphas. The alpha to the opposing pack was large and black with thick legs and a broad muzzle, and gleaming amber eyes. Our pack's alpha was similar to my wolf, typical and grey, but still very large.

The black alpha lowered his head and glowered at ours, baring flashing teeth under the shaded moon. He spoke with callousness, edging a threat with his creamy voice, "We are a new pack in search of resources and land. Which do you have to offer?"

"Neither," Zachary spat, "This has been our town and territory for generations."

"Let me be clear," the black alpha said, his voice low and throaty, "I want something of immense value from you, something that will make my pack stronger, and without debt to you. Otherwise, I will slaughter the lot of you!"

It was the first time I had ever noticed fear in Zachary's eyes. His usually tense, powerful stand faltered ever so slightly. The untrained eye may have missed it. He took a slow step back, giving a small ounce of submission to the larger black wolf.

Then, Zachary's eyes gleamed in a mischievous way. Zachary was different from other alphas; he often would rely little on brute strength and size, but instead more on intimidation and cunning ability. He could never kill this alpha, but anyone who knew Zachary also knew that he always held a good set of cards close to his chest. He could cheat in any poker game; he could also cheat in any interaction with another pack. He could outwit and outsmart this wolf a million times before beating him in a one-on-one fistfight or wolf fight.

But this time, I was somehow the winning card.