The Werewolf's Daughter

The Werewolf's Daughter - Prologue

At fifteen, I still wasn't old enough to drive, drink, smoke, go to many clubs... In fact, I'm sure everything for a fifteen year old is illegal, except doing as your parents, or in my case, guardians, tell you.

I'm pretty sure sneaking out at midnight from your orphanage is against the rules too.

I have never known another home than the orphanage. I hated it. The bad neighbourhood, the kids, the alcoholics. It was all so much fun. Not. There were twelve other kids here permanently, and I never got along with any of them. The eldest was two years older than me, at seventeen; he had his own car and loved pushing us younger kids about. The youngest was just a baby and the only one who didn't yell insults at me, like "freak" and "weirdo". I'd also got "slut" a few times but I didn't think five year old Violet knew what that meant.

The only friend I'd made in the fifteen years in that crappy neighbourhood was a sixteen year old guy, who my foster parents thought was bad news. Donovan was a badass. He smoked, drank, drove a huge motorcycle, and I hadn't seen him in school since we were ten.

My name's Sierra Thorne. I'm sixteen in less than a week, and I live in a foster home. My parents dropped me off as a baby; apparently I'd been screaming and yelling in the middle of the might with no hide nor hair of either my mum or dad. Nothing except my name and age written on a slip of paper clutched into my tiny little baby fist.

That night, I slipped out of my second storey window, sliding down the fire escape ladder outside. Jogging down the alleyway behind the orphanage, I took my cell phone out of my pocket.

Be there in two mins. What did you want to tell me? I typed out quickly, sending it to Donovan as I hit the main street. People were still wandering around, most drunk, many taking substances the police looked for in random tests.

Something important. Trust me, Si.

His reply had me worried. My eyebrows knitted together in a frown as I read the message, and I started to run towards our meeting place. My mind was whirring; something must have happened to him. Don wasn't a vague person, and something was off with the tone of his reply.

My shoulder length black hair bounced on my shoulders as I ran, and my long arms and legs pumped in an effort to get to Donovan. Something was wrong, and I could only imagine what was so wrong he had to drag me out of the orphanage at this time of night. We'd had our deal of nighttime adventures, but never unplanned and definitely never without any details shared between us. What was going on?

"Donovan?" I called, as I came to an abrupt halt. Our hangout was behind his dad's pub, and I could make out his looming shadow, silhouetted in the darkness against the grey wall behind him.

"I'm so sorry, Si. I didn't want to do this." Donovan sounded pained as he walked towards me, hands out in a calm-down geture. His dark brown hair sprang up in curls around his face. "They made me, I swear. I wanted you out of this, but you're nearly sixteen. I had to, Si, and I'm sorry."

As he reached me, I saw him reach out, and there was a small stinging pain in my arm. I looked up at him and saw his mouth moving but something was wrong and no sound was coming out, and the world was fading fast and blood was pounding in my ears and the back of my head and my hands were shaking and Donovan was so far away...

The next thing I knew was the blackness overtaking me, and the sidewalk rushing up to meet my falling body.