Who I Am

1

My name is Logan Mackavoy.

I'm the son of an American Alpha in Michigan state.

I am the strongest werewolf in over forty years and everybody knows it.

My father has raised me to be strong.

My mother died when I was born, which was a long time ago because I age one year for every seven.

My father, Jecral Mackavoy, has been grooming me to rule the world for longer than I can remember.

I look over at him from where I'm sitting, but he doesn't seem to notice as he scrolls through his phone.

For his only surviving pup, he doesn't seem to care about me a lot.

Truth be told, I don't know why he showed up. He could have easily sent on of the lower ranking wolves.

We're sitting in the airport with his Beta, Harvey, waiting for the plane that will take me to Germany.

I'm going to be staying the summer with Alpha Harris and his family there. He and dad are trying to hook me and his daughter Lucy up. The German pack is very rich, but not that powerful, ours is the opposite problem.

I've never actually met her before though and I despise the two of them telling me what to do.

He sniffs then scowls at me. "You're wearing that perfume again, aren't you?"
"It's cologne," I reply, keeping my tone even.

"Go take it off," he orders, returning to his screen.

This is typically how our relationship is.

I'll be glad to be away from him for three months.

Harvey glares at me so I glare back, staring him right in the eyes. If he wants to fight, I'm not backing down.

"Harvey, Logan," father announces. "Stop."

There's so much disgust in his scent that I wonder why the Alpha hasn't noticed. Maybe he has...

That's how my siblings died so I guess it's not unexpected.

American packs are bloodthirsty animals who fight for power and sometimes innocents get used.

When my litter was born, some lower ranking wolf had caught wind about it and tracked my mom down and killed her while she was still weak then my siblings.

I'm told that the only reason I survived was because I looked weaker than the others and that they were prioritized as more important.

I like to think about them sometimes, what they would have been like.

The loudspeakers screech that my plane is ready for boarding and I grab my carry on. "I have to go."

The two Werewolves get up and father shakes my hand before they leave.

I stare after them for a millisecond before boarding the plane.

They didn't even wait until I was boarded.

+++

I stretch, rolling my neck, as I look for a sign with my name on it. These people are a lot more prim and proper than us so that's what I expect.

So I'm surprised when I see Alpha Harris and two kids with blonde hair and blue eyes approach me.

"Hello, Lokan!" he says in cheerful English, a thick accent warping his words to my ears. "Zo bleazed to haffe you!Zis is Lucy und Ryan."

"Nice to meet you sir," I reply politely. "Miss Lucy, I've heard so much about you."

She's taller than the boy and her hair has more brown in it up close. She gives me a bored look and zips up her black leather jacket silently.

"Lucy..."

Huffing loudly, she gives me a horribly sarcastic smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

She has an old Irish voice.

"Likewise," I tell, her, my eyes on Ryan.

If you didn't look closely enough, you would think he was a skinny kid, but when he stuck his hand out for me to shake I saw muscles move underneath his black fishnet sleeves.

He was the kind of strong that you didn't notice until you did. Unlike mine which called attention to me and gave me unwarranted attention.

"I'm Ryan," he announces, smiling.

He's got a lot of scars, but there's a friendliness in him, that doesn't match them. Our kind heals fast and only one silver causes permanent scars. The only people who have as many as he does are outcasts.

He doesn't have an accent at all.

Werewolves travel a lot so it's not unusual for people to have different manners of speaking from where they live.

"Velcome to Germany," Alpha Harris laughs, taking my suitcases himself.

Suck-up.

+++

We get to what they call home and I know I look like an idiot, gaping up at it.

They live in the Black Forest, which I already knew, but I was picturing a log cabin.

These people have their own village with expensive looking houses lining an old stonework road.

I continually see a home that is bigger than the others and think that we'll turn into the driveway, but Harris tells me that a high ranking person lives there and what their name is.

No, at the end of the long, winding road is a large castle.

"Those are the stables over there," Ryan tells me. "They're my favorite."

"Lucy, talk to zee young man," their dad chides, frowning in the rearview mirror. "He came all zee vay from America to zee you."

Not that I had a choice, but I agree. She could at least talk to me. We might be able to end up being friends if she decides she's not better than me.

"Fine," she gives in. "Over there is the training centre. The pups get trained over there."

I look towards the last building before the castle where she's pointing. It's the only building that doesn't look like much.

"Nice," I reply.

The car stops and all of us pile out.

Their mansion looks like it was built in the side of a mountain and it's made of grey stone like the road.

There's a large brick arch bridge made of the same stuff.

It's got a lot of turrets and I kind of feel overwhelmed.

Lucy and the Alpha forge ahead without waiting.

"It's a lot," ryan whispers, smiling sadly. "Don't let them see you're impressed."

I dip my head, grateful for the advice and school my features.

Once we're inside, I get a full tour which include lots of behemoth staircases, prissy rooms, and old portraits.

"This is your room," the maid says plainly.

Yeah, they have servants.

All of the ones that I've met are Humans and I think they're the kind of people that want to get bitten.

The room is beige with a red California King-size canopy bed, a dark colored vanity and a matching vanity, and a door that leads to what would be referred to as a master bathroom at home.

"Thank you," I declare. "May I have some time to unpack?"

Harris nods, closing the door as they leave.

It's going to be a long summer.