EMPIRE

1. Introductions

THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN

This is a long chapter as it's the introduction to the book. The proceeding chapters will be half the length. Hang in there! 

- 

I am perfectly aware that I should be proud of the high status I hold in the pack. Being the most recent descendant of a long line of Beta warriors is a position many would dream of. It's an instantaneous guarantee to a fairly privileged life.

However, unlike most holders of high rank, I've never grown reliant upon these superficial perks. It's the respect that I receive that acts as a form of a hard drug to me. Any high ranking official receives high esteem from other members of the Pack, but it's not the obligated reverence that I seek.

Over the span of five years, I've built this Pack's military division from the ground up to become the most efficient in all the land. In these few years, under my leadership, we've been undefeated in all military ventures. My reputation grew to be known across the land and this is where my respect is drawn from, where I find my purpose.

Hence, as I stand tall, second best only to the Alpha's themselves; I know that I should be happy. I should be breaming with satisfaction when I look over my life and the possibilities of my future. So, if that's the case, then why do I often look upon lower ranking wolves with sheer envy? One wolf, in particular, has been the subject of my jealousy for years and for the life of me I could never rid her from my mind. Scarlett McKenzie, for that is her name, could very well be the dullest wolf in our pack. She is not as strong as most, not as beautiful as others, nor is she as intelligent as the rest of us. Even her name has thrown people off, for every wolf in our pack has a name unique and tied to our animal heritage. Yet hers is so inanely human. She embodies the entire concept of 'average.'

So, why is it that I subtly admire her freedom and her carefree language? I watch with gritted teeth as she talks like there are no issues in this universe and the constant expression of serenity resting on her face as if it were a silk sheet, transforming the plainness that it covers into something beautiful and desired. While every petty cell in my being drives me to hate her for having what I don't, I could never do so. Not when she hasn't done anything inherently wrong, that these feelings are only because of the fact that she is happy, and I am not.

My life has been built in the opposite direction; I must talk in a proper fashion as it is to go well with my position- despite the fact that it clashes horrifically with this era. I rarely feel the sweet feeling of tranquillity, as peace is the one privilege that I fear I may never earn. Though I am four years past the period of mandatory schooling, I am still bombarded with constant studies from the pack educators. I'm to train every day in the art of combat and battle strategies for hours upon hours, returning to continue studies of all aspects of Pack life. It's an exhausting lifestyle, one that drives the individual to wonder if there is even a point to it all.

I kick a thin tree branch out of my path and dawdle along the track I had marked for myself. This particular trail leads just along the outskirts of our pack's territory but not so close to the perimeter where the "warriors" on guard duty might find me. Although, I don't know why I worry as I had discovered long ago that the standard patrol guards are actually quite one-track minded when it comes to their jobs. They don't care much about what is already on the inside of the territory; they only have eyes only for intruders, not distinctly obvious members of our community. That would explain why most of the Pack patrol-guards were still unmated. This served to be an advantage from a strategic standpoint, though, so I have always been pleased with their seamless work.