Chapter 1 - Loxley

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I stand in a dark corner of the warehouse where tonights fights are happening.

I can hear people making bets, heckling the fighters in the cage, or just going about their business.

You might wonder why I'm standing in a dark corner instead of joining the fray? Well that's easy. The smell!

You see I'm a werewolf! No one from the gang knows this. They're all human.

My sense of smell is very strong, but I don't only smell normal scents, I can smell peoples feelings too.

But only the really strong feelings, such as fear, lust and greed.

Maybe I could smell the better emotions too but I haven't come across any yet so can't be sure.

I'm 18 tomorrow! Finally old enough to get the fuck out of this town and this gang.

Being part of the Celts has been amazing. I mean I love it, I'm a damn good soldier, but since Peter died 4 months ago, the gangs been going to shit!

Our new leader Marcus, has shit for brains. All he cares about is his own power and wealth. And trying to fuck every woman he can get his hands on.

He's been trying to fuck me since Peter died, but I've been able to stay out of his clutches so far. I think the only reason he hasn't pushed harder is because he's scared of me somewhat.

As he should be. I can tear him apart without blinking. I really should just kill him but the majority of the Celts voted him as leader, and I don't want to kill them all.

As I'm standing in my corner I hear the announcer call out my name. My turn to fight. Good. Thinking of Marcus has pissed me off.

I walk soundlessly out of the shadows and see a few people gasp or jerk in surprise.

Some people are so blind to their surroundings.

I've got my blank expression on my face as I walk towards the cage. I don't ever show my emotions. I know my blank face throws off my opponents.

Peter taught me from a young age to never show others what you're thinking or feeling.

Man I missed him. He was the closest thing to a parent that I remember ever having.

Peter found me in the woods while he was hunting. I was 6 years old.

I had been with a group of wolves when we got separated. I wasn't too upset by it. I knew they were bad wolves. Rogues. Packless. But with no idea from where I came from, or where to go, I hadn't tried to escape.

Wolves start training as soon as they can walk. I have hazy memories of people from when I  was younger, but they're not clear.

The rogues were very thorough with my training. At 6 years of age I was already quite deadly.

Wolves are stronger than humans. We're faster and have better reflexes too. It might seem unfair to fight with those odds but lifes unfair so I really don't give a shit.

Nobody knows I'm a wolf. Not even Peter ever knew. I was able to hide for my first shift which is the hardest and I've been able to get away every full moon since.

I shifted for the first time at the age of 12. That first shift was the only time that I wished I was back with the rogues.

I made it to the cage and walked in to cheers, boos and laughter.

The laughter was from the guy standing across me. My opponent. Marcus himself. I almost grinned.

But I didn't. I kept my expression disinterested. I stared at him blank faced. Not commenting. I saw him swallow nervously.

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