Wolf Prints

The Alpha's Escape Plan (Part 1)

Chapter 5 - The Alpha's Escape Plan (Part 1)

When I was a child I convinced myself I had super powers, which isn't as strange as it might sound. I mean, it was so obvious.

I was faster than anyone I knew, and I was strong. Stronger than most adults, even. My senses were keener. No one could ever smell the same things I did, or see the things I saw.

And I could turn into a wolf. That was the major factor that contributed to my superhero theory. Who else could do that?

I didn't know, at the time, that thousands of people who could. That we were called werewolves and there was a whole race I didn't know existed. A race that didn't know I existed.

I wasn't raised by werewolves – I just happened to be one.

I was told dad hadn't lived long enough to watch me take my first steps and mom was as human as human could get. She knew of werewolves, but not how to raise one. I was born a girl. What were the odds?

So I spent most of my childhood mistakenly thinking I had been bitten by a radioactive spider. I watched movies; I knew how this worked.

School was repetitive. Recess quickly became the bane of my existence. It was so boring, and no one wanted to play against me. Ever. At first they liked me, and we tried many different games. It didn't matter. The ending was always the same.

I won.

When we played tag I caught them easily while the other children spent our entire break chasing me down. Though it was useless. I never let them catch me.

For a time we played hide and seek, but that was the easiest one yet. Whether I was hiding on the highest branch of the tallest tree or in the thickest part of the rosebush on the far side of the school, no one ever found me. It was even worse when I was "it" because I just used my nose to sniff them all out of what they mistakenly called "hiding places."

I was beginning to think all games were just a waste of time. Then one day someone had the great idea to introduce the class to Dodge Ball.

Dodge Ball.

Possibly the worst game ever for a young werewolf in a human school. I renamed it Break Ball, because that's what the big orange ball did after it left my hands. It broke bones. For one little girl it was an arm. Another had her wrist broken in two places. One boy got a concussion, and two others...well, they were eventually released from the hospital.

No one ever played with me again.

This was not a normal childhood for most werewolves. They were taught to hide their abilities, and quite frankly, no one had these types of abilities in elementary school. Werewolves normally begin to get enhanced senses around puberty and shift into their wolf for the first time between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. I shifted a little earlier than that.

I was six.

Even now I remember the feeling of standing on four paws for the first time. It was the most amazing thing I'll ever experience. Power. So much raw, untamable power. I could feel it coursing through my veins like electricity, demanding an outlet. I knew in that moment with absolute certainty that I could face any foe and defeat them. That should have scared me, but I was not afraid. I reveled in it.

I was undefeatable. The possibilities of what I could do were endless.

I felt a little like that now, as I jumped out of the back of Blaine's truck and blinked up at the pretty human girl sitting on the front porch of what Blake said was a house and I called a mansion.