Howling Fury (Book 1) (Being Edited)

Prologue

*****30 years ago*****

On the twenty-first of April, they came for me. My father and I where in the living room, playing the old classic game of ride the wolf; a game often played between young werewolves. Mother was in the kitchen, cooking cookies as a surprise for my father. His favorite. Your probably thinking why is this child playing when she should be in her bed. Well we are werewolves, so we conduct most of our activities at night and sleep during the day. Most other werewolves sleep at night so they can fit in with society, but we live almost in the middle of nowhere. The closest person to us is my aunt, who only lives a few mile away from our house. Otherwise, we rarely get visitors. So we sleep during the day.

Anyway, I end up on my fathers back screaming in joy as he crawls around on all fours pretending to be the wolf, which he technically is. Usually he does actually shift and allows me to ride around on his back as if he where a giant pony. My mother would often tease him about it, but I knew my father didn't mind. He was a big sap who was willing to give his daughter everything she wanted, within reason of course.

Suddenly, my mother rushes in looking flustered and scared. "They're here!" Her whisper was barely audible and if not for my keen hearing, I never would have heard what she said. My father pales, standing up abruptly. He must have forgotten thatI was perched on his back. I yelped as I fell backwards but before I hit the floor, a familiar pair of arms gripped my waist. My father gentle lowered me to the floor and kneels in front of me. "Now Ester. I want you to go your secret place and run. Whatever you hear, you mustn't come back, ok. Go to your aunt's house, but if you see anything strange there, run. Run and never look back."

 I giggled and pecked his cheek, believing this was a game and sprinted for the portrait of the angel Gabriel. I pulled it back to reveal a small crawl space, and I crawled inside. My father had built this tunnel just in case there was any danger that would threaten our safety, but I didn't know that at the time. I only saw it as a perfect hiding place for hide and seek. Closing the portrait behind me I tried to suppress my giggle as I head to the secret entrance in the graveyard.

 Suddenly I heard a loud crash, which caused me to pause. My parents were in trouble, I could sense it. I had to help them. They were all I had. Ignoring my father's wishes, I about turned and headed back to the living room.

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As I reached the living room, I heared a crunch closely followed by a thud. Slowly, I reached up and stuck my finger through the portrait and quickly withdrew it in case I'm seen. Placing my hands on either side of the portrait, I level my eye with the small hole I made. I could just see through and no more.

What I saw forced my breath to catch in my throat. My father was by the front door. His throat was a mass of blood and flesh, his head rolled at an impossible angle. His dead eyes stared right at me. I was only five, and staring into the eyes of my dead father. It was enough to traumatize anyone. I felt something warm trickled down my face and as I reached up to wipe it away, I realised I was crying. I looked back into my fathers dead eyes, realising I would never hear his laugh again. Never play wrestling like we used to.

I heared a soft whimper to my right so I shifted my feet slightly and did my best to look in that direction. My field of vision was limited but I saw enough. My mother was crouched in a fetal position, with an arm raised above her head. In front of her stood a lycan. A big one at that.

 My father often told me of lycan. Vicious, incredibly strong brutes whom become enraged easily. The are incredibly tall, standing anywhere between five and seven feet tall. He told me "Beware the lycan Ester. They may be related  to us but they have mean tempers and more often than not, they are the ones whom kill." This one was huge, standing around seven foot and obviously it was a killer. Blood dripped from it's clawed hands and teeth and coated it's fur. There was another man in the room but he did nothing.