Of ARES

One | Rent is Due Next Week

The incessant desire to hold eye contact with another individual regardless of the conversation, circumstance, or difference of rank: my biggest character flaw.

I faced the consequences of my troublesome tendency for the first time when I was nine. As every other child around me bowed their heads, surveying the grass where they stood to avoid the bone-chilling scrutiny, I held the fierce gaze of our Gamma. It did not go unnoticed, nor was it appreciated. I was verbally reprimanded for the challenge and reminded of my place in the pack and world.

My parents, specifically my mother, tried for years to break me of my predisposition. She was frightened by my experience with the Gamma and was horrified that a similar incident with the Alpha would be next. My father was disappointed, but he did not have much to say on the subject. He was a man of few words, especially when it came to the High Pack—the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. As a result of my mother's fear, I was shielded from them. It was an easy feat. I was already an average pack member with little use to the Alpha, but I had no room for improvement thanks to her sheltering. Therefore, I stayed average, only becoming a true member with duties—a tenant who paid rent—when I moved into one of the pack-funded apartments at seventeen.

School had its own clusterfuck of inconveniences. I was accident prone in my training and found it difficult to not meet the eyes of every elder wolf in the building.

As a Werewolf, it is hellish to explain to any superior that a heavy gaze means nothing confrontational to you. The others of the Dark were simpler, more human-like. Being tied to the primal instincts of a wolf had its disadvantages, making our kind both revered and the laughing-stock of the supernatural world.

My duties to the pack were simple, obey and protect. The senior members of the pack, high-ranked Warriors, Healers, and Trackers, dealt with the brunt of pack affairs, leaving the lesser of us to the simple tasks. Occasionally, I would be asked to help clean up. It was an undemanding sacrifice that I was willing to make for safety in a world with feral wolves, blood-thirsty ancients, and magic-happy, Latin-mumbling enchanters.

Despite the questionable past, I never bit the hand that fed me. Our High Pack provided a buffet for us, which was more than enough to secure my loyalty. The Gamma was sure to institute some form of training to each pack member, the Beta never left a person to struggle, and the Alpha protected us all.

I was okay—living in my little apartment knowing I did not mean much of anything to the pack—under those circumstances. It was less for me to worry about or get involved in. My days were more absorbed with making sure I had milk in my fridge, vacuumed my floors, and showed up to my minimum wage job on time. It was the closest to human living I could get, with the occasional ring from one of the Deltas saying that some sort of assistance was needed for a low-level patrol.

I never liked doing patrols. I found them boring, walking up and back a tiring three-mile strip of the territory for two hours. Especially for low-level calls, the time seemed to creep at half its normal speed. Possibly even a third. More like a fourth. However, it was my duty to the pack and the Dark Realm, an instinct that was embedded in the deepest parts of my brain and coursed like a river through my veins. I was tied to pack business, just like every other wolf, whether I wanted it or not.

I couldn't stop myself from checking my watch for the fifth time, hoping that more than another ten minutes had passed. My wish was granted—fifteen minutes. With a sigh, I adjusted my patrol-suit, pulling at the flexible fabric. I could not fathom how the Warriors of the pack wore them almost exclusively. I could pinpoint a few individuals who I had never seen in normal attire. The resilient uniform, made from a fiber designed to withstand any shift from human to wolf and vice versa, was a necessity for any high-ranking wolf that may need to provide their services at any moment. The garment, although it did save us from shredding outfit after outfit, was uncomfortable at best. Luckily, I only had to wear it on the extraordinary circumstance that my name was next up on the list to handle some sort of burden.