Prologue - Old fat coyotes

1.1K 33 4
                                    

Life isn't fair. I'm sure you already knew that but it's definitely true.

Still, I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Theya Selena Arden, I am nineteen years old, and I am the sole heir to the Lykaestros pack. There is only one problem: according to some old, fat coyotes - AKA the Council members- I am not deemed fit to rule as I am a mateless female. Well, have a nice day and fuck y'all too!

Personally, I don't get it: I finished highschool early with honors, I took two years worth of online college courses, so it's not like I'm mentally inept. I'm as fit as any Alpha female, if not better, and I'm the best fighter our pack has seen in years! But nooooo, we must respect Tradition. Please note that that is with a capital "T", for future reference. Despite the many advances the feminist movement had attained worldwide, the solid patriarchy of the were world refused to budge. It was so and so in the beginning, therefore so and so must live on. Infuriating. Maddening.

The mirror is all fogged so I just wipe it with my sleeve, trying to ignore the black circles under my eyes. The many sleepless nights are starting to catch up with me. I'm not vain, but I know I'm not what's considered ugly: when you're of Alpha blood, it's in your genes. We are quite literally genetically designed to radiate power, to be strong, to make people follow us, trust us, be loyal. Shrugging, I brush my teeth and walk back to my room and get into bed. It's really early, but tommorow is a very important day. I finally get to challenge the Council.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew POV ( Yes, I will have these. I just ADORE thinking with multiple brains. I am not schizophrenic... or is she?)

I enter the Council building with my head held high and a newly found resolve. They finally accepted to see me. I would finally claim what is rightfully mine, without spilling blood of my blood.

A sigh escaped my pursed lips. Gabe. Would we ever be close again? Was it my fault? It couldn't have been f...

"Mathew O'Rourke?"

I snapped out of my mental debate to look down upon a pair of big grey eyes staring expectantly at me.

"That would be me, Miss..."I gazed down towards her name tag. "Platt"

She looked me up and down with obvious distaste.

"You're precisely eight minutes late. The Council does not have time for dilly-dally, Mr O'Rourke. You need the Council to achieve your goal. They. Don't."

I was mentally fuming. How dare she address me as some sort of inferior. The little bitch was probably an Omega! To speak to me in such a manner could result in exile! She was going to...

"Mr. O'Rourke! We. Are. Waiting!" Another voice was heard from behind me, and I turned around quickly to see Magellan Quincy, the fourth Elder, smiling at me. "Please come forth before we proceed unto the next case."

I nodded and after a brief scorching gaze at the little secretary, marched towards the Council Room. Everything was going back to normal.

The Council Room was a huge... well, room... filled with paintings of previous Elders from the last few centuries, war scenes and famous Alphas. In the back of the room was some sort of stage, on which were placed the five Elder thrones.

I continued towards them, analyzing their features. They seemed... smug.

"How nice of you to drop in, Matthew. We weren't sure you had time for us today" said Arthur Gallere, the First Elder.

I held back a snarky comment. What is it with these people? Is there something in the air here?

"I was kept up at security. They kept identifying particularly dangerous objects on my person." That guard was as gay as they come. "Apparently my shoelaces and gum were highly hazardous."

Dance of FangsWhere stories live. Discover now