Omega

Chapter 1

There are days when you feel something ominous in the air, days when you know something is different, days when things are about to change and you know your life will never be the same again.

Those days.

But I must be the worst werewolf in the world because I didn't feel any of that. I never have. Yes, I'm a werewolf, a shifted werewolf which believe me came as a shock. I certainly didn't feel it the first day I shifted; God, that was so embarrassing. For those of you that don't know, shifting for a werewolf is like getting your period: you're anticipating it but you don't want it to happen in a public place. That's what happened to me...

Out in public...

On my first real group date...

When I was about to get my first real kiss.

I must have been too nervous or anxious because I closed my eyes one minute and the next minute I had a tail in a booth at the local diner with all my friends watching. The date might have been salvaged if not for the manager walking out the back and telling my friends that they could not have a dog in his place. It was terrible. I was thirteen! And Darren was so sweet to tell the owner I was a girl a second ago thus allowed, but I'll never forget the creeped out look in his eyes when I shifted. My parents had never told me what happens when you shift so I never saw the signs. Oh, everyone knew I had werewolf heritage, but both my parents were unshifted so I figured it was a family trait. But I was embarassingly wrong.

I should have paid more attention to instincts after that, but I failed the day I came from school and my parents were home. My mom was a psychiatrist so she may have had an early day but my dad worked at the bank so that should have been my first clue that things were amiss. But again, I didn't feel it. So I was unprepared when my parents told me we had to move to a pack area. They explained it was part of the Snarl Compromise that all shifted Weres had to have pack membership or they were illegal. I learned about the amendment that gave werewolves rights briefly in history; I remember because I thought the Senator's name who introduced it was funny, Kevin Snarl. When werewolves were discovered to exist, a worldwide panic ensued: massacres, mobs, talks of war. Kevin Snarl revealed himself as Were and worked out a civil rights act that kept Weres happy and humans secure, soon the model for every other country. I didn't give it much thought since none of my family was shifted. Yet again, embarassingly wrong.

And that night two years ago, when I was almost attacked by a rogue in the middle of a field, saved by something infinitely more dangerous, and dizzied by a voice that could melt chocolate and iron at the same time, I didn't feel it. So when everyone wore odd pleasant expressions when I walked into school, I should have gotten a clue. But no, not Natasha Lovell, I didn't think anything of it only that Tammie looked like a weirdo when she smiled. The girl hasn't had an upturned mouth the five years that I've known her; it must have been excruciating. In my defense, I may have been preoccupied with the news that we would have new students. Packs rarely had people turn up in the neighborhood asking to be members, most Were families content to keep their pack memberships and stay in Were-laden areas. The ones that were not, were Unshifted so they could live anywhere they wished. I had been the "New Kid" for as long as I've been a pack member; it would be nice to have someone else sniggered at for not have doctorial knowlege regarding everything werewolf. Not wishing ridicule on anybody, but I liked the idea of having a kindred spirit that I could guide. I walked to my locker and homeroom with imaginations of new best friends hanging on my every word dancing in my head. The class was quiet with hushed whispers when I walked in. I checked my watch to make sure I was still on time. I sat in my seat quickly quite confused since there were still a few minutes left. The class normally chorused with loud speeches before our teacher hushed us but I soon found out why. Our teacher, Mrs. Lowe looked as if she had seen a ghost, sitting behind her desk with her hands folded. She still wore her signiture pleasant morning smile but this one was etched with anxiety. I watched her swallow once, twice, three times before she stood.