The Slave to a Pack

Chapter One

The winds rapped against the glass, his hands shaking as he pulled his hood tighter around himself - schools almost over he promised himself. Like a prayer he repeated it, eyeing the window more closely. It was shaking in its pane, daring to come loose as the wind grew stronger. He had bruises on his wrists, only a few - his cheekbone had a slight swell to it and his back ached. The werewolves in the class down the hall had kicked him down the stairs. His healing had taken care of the rest - last night it was terrible.

Slave - a person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them.

He wasn't part of the pack, he belonged to the pack. Everyone else was close knit and like a family - Wren was the orphan boy who looked into their windows on Christmas. Wishing he was the snobby boy who threw his expensive present to the side to stuff his face with breakfast, lunch and dinner. Instead he was this.

"Hey - weird kid, pass me some paper." A girl from infront of him turned around, demanding. Shaking hands he handed it to her - her human scent filling his nose. He was basically like her. No point in being in a pack if you can't shift or connect with your wolf. He couldn't even mindlink. She snatched the paper from his hands, brining him back to reality, her face pulled back in a disgusted sneer. "Why are you wearing that hoodie? Do you like, self harm or something?" Her voice irritated him so he instead went back to looking at the window.

The bell rang causing his chest to heave in happiness, his legs were ahead of him as he practically raced out the door. He had no friends yet - the pack had finally let him go to school - but he wasn't confident enough anyway. He walked through the doors and made his start on a long walk back home - to the pack house. He slept in a normal, small, room that had his few belongings - Marine, the head housekeeper, would tend to him.

She was like the Mother he never had, who had died in child birth and that caused his Father to join the rogues, but Marine filled in those shoes. Not that she really knew. She didn't want to make herself too much for the boy to handle, fearing he'd cling to her or think she was trying to replace his Mother. But it was her age and kindness that had him seeing her as such.

His feet carried him to the pack house in a new record of twenty minutes. He reminded himself he was still a werewolf, just lacking the shifting aspect, and he still had all the abilities. Hearing, smelling, seeing, endurance and more.

"Wren come here!" Marines voice called from inside the housekeepings quaters. They got a small establishment at the back of the pack house, where most the cleaners, maids and cooks lived. Marine must have sensed him, sighing, he made a beline straight through the kitchen and into the dining room. "Alpha said there was a disturbance in the mess hall and needs someone to come clean it. I have to go out but since you're back - here's a rubbish bag dear." She shoved them into his hands and waved at him before exiting the room.

The walk through the pack house wasn't quiet until half past ten at night, where Wren would be forced to join the cleaners on their run through the houses, cleaning. It was nice, he preferred it at night. He could think to himself and no one was around to give him a hard time. But unfortunately it was three in the after noon and all the other Werewolves were coming back from school.

"Anyway - I told her I was waiting for my mate and so she sucked my dick instead." A loud, obnoxious voice cackled, making its way down the hallway. The Alpha's oldest son, twenty six, was making his way towards him. He was the worst of the wolves. He was supposed to go to the Rogue wars but his Father pulled a few strings so he stayed. He was the reason Wren was working as a cleaner. He was lined up with people taking care of him until one of his guardians died and the other left for the rogue wars when he was ten. He was given to the staff and forced to work without pay. This made most the staff make him do most their work, because no one was going to tell them off - especially not Wren.

"What a way to get out of seeing that crazy bitch again." The other snorted, congratulating him on his disgusting ways. "Look who it is Brent." Brent. Wren tensed at the name.

"Ew - lets hope he doesn't try and talk to us." Brent snorted, shoving his shoulder into Wren, causing him to slam against the wall. "I heard you're of age now - eighteen and still no parents?" Brents accomplice pinned Wren to the wall, twisting his arm back and digging his knee into the back of Wrens. "Still no wolf?" Brents air hit the back of Wren's neck, causing him to clench his jaw.

"Brent is that you?" The Alphas voice called from further down the hall - to where Wren was going.

"Coming Dad." Brent called, his friend pulling away and the two speeding down the hall, not even saying another thing to Wren.

He was right - Wren had turned eighteen two weeks ago, it took him a while to find out. Nice to know he cares - he thought bitterly to himself. Eighteen and still no wolf and no mate.

Dragging his feet again, Wren set off to go into the Alpha's office and clean whatever mess he had made. Probably had a tantrum and kicked his bin - sending the contents all over his carpet again. Wren wished the people in the house learned to clean up after themselves instead of hiring people to do it for them.

Peering into the hallway mirror he stared longer than he should have. He never fought back - the bruises on his face evident. It was sick - they tortured him with words and a few beatings - but they fed him, clothed him and kept him under a roof. What really made Wren know it was childish was that the adults didn't seek him out and hurt him - only the children. Wren had been taking a few psychology classes and he thought to himself often enough to come up with an answer.

The children probably hear what their parents say about him - and this was their way of coping and translating that.

All they saw was the boy who killed his Mother and the son of a rogue.