Prolog
Tall buildings, clean streets, lush forests. How I envy the pure-blooded wolves. Their children flourish, while here in the Deadlands, the children decay. The nonpure blood wolves stave and are riddled with sickness. Their blood diluted with humans and other supernatural—a folly experiment in co-existing. Some species can't co-exist; it's in their nature to be prey and predator. Hunter and hunted. A rabbit can't live with the fox.
So the Deadlands are where we live. Not welcome among the pure-blooded wolves and not welcome among the humans. It won't always be like this, though. Soon, things will change. I will change them.
I am the closest thing to pure blood. I look like them. Smell like them and have the strength and speed like them. I can infiltrate the society. Show them that we will not be ignored and forgotten any longer.
I have spent years studying and watching.
Learning to speak like them.
To be them.
1 The Ruse
"You can't go by your given name. You need one of their names." Connor pushes his glasses up on his nose. And looks at me as if I didn't already know a wolf named Dove would be a red flag. It screams human parents. No self-respected pure blood would name their child after a flying snack.
"I know that, Connor. I have been thinking of the perfect name. A name that says I am one of you." I pull the chair back, and it squeaks across the floor, hurting my ears. I cringe and sit down all properly—crossed legs, straight back, hands folded delicately in my lap.
"And what did you come up with.?" Those green eyes of his stir something inside of me. I push those thoughts down. Nothing can get in my way, not even a cute boy.
"Lunabella of the River Pack." Connor grins and its infections. My mouth lifts into an ear-to-ear smile. If I smiled any bigger, my face might crack. "It's perfect. The River Pack lives on the outskirts of society. They keep one paw in, just enough to stay off the radar. They have never sent one of their own to the Academy. Plus, you have the look."
I run my hands through my blond hair. I bat my blue eyes and grin. "I know I spent years trying to come up with the perfect cover, and this is it." I stand and walk over to the window. The Citadel looms in the distance. All grand and imposing. Soon, I will be among them. Soon, I will infiltrate every aspect of their society. And when the time is right, destroy them from the inside.
"Come on, Lunabella of the River Pack, a celebration is in order." Connor slips his hand in mine, and I eagerly follow him. He takes us to the Hen House, a small pub where all our friends are waiting. Homemade ale and lively music greet me.
Castar, my trainer in all things pure blood, stands and hugs me. He is enormous and imposing, but he has a kind heart underneath the rough exterior. He escapes from slavery from a prominent pack. The Knightfangs basically run and own everything in the Citadel. Nothing happens without their approval. He has been invaluable to my success.
I spent the night indulging in various forms of debauchery. It was my last opportunity to be myself. I drank, danced, and even kissed the waiter from the pub. These are all things that would get me killed in the Citadel, but I can enjoy my freedom for a little longer here.
We stop our celebration as soon as the huge, burnt-orange sphere appears on the horizon. I sit with my best friend Conner in the canyon, gazing at the sunrise. We stay that way for a long time, sitting side by side, enjoying the comfortable silence.
He breaks the silence first. "Are you ready for this?" I don't answer right away. My mind is fogged from ale, and I am unsure of my answer. "I have to be. It's my purpose, what we have been working toward since we were children." I look over at him and take his hand, our fingers intertwining in a familiar pattern. "Remember how we used to sit here and spend countless hours planning and hoping for a different life? While the other kids played, we organized and hatched our plans."
