Bloodlust

The stronger the scent of a wolf, the more powerful the being is.

Tavora has been mocked and bullied by her pack for over twelve years now, finding its start when she was only nine, and still hadn't had her first shift. Everyone knew she would never be a real wolf and as such, never a real member of the pack to them. No one knew why this, a child without it's wolf, had been born, but neither did they really care. She was weak, unreliable as a warrior or member, and she would never bear pups strong enough to insure a strong line.
At least, that's what they thought, for if had never been known to happen before.

Why the Godess of the moon had cursed her with this fate, she hadn't known, but for whatever reason, Isabelle coudn't fiind it in her hearth to blame her.
She knew that even if she ever got her wolf, the bullying would not go away. She doubted her wolf would have strength enough to convince the pack of her worth.
They had been training ever since they were twelve to be strong fighters for the pack. But without her wolf, her human form didn't have any strength compared to the enforced power of the members in training.

However, unbeknownst to every member of the werewolf race, the Godess of the moon never turns a blind eye to her kind, and never bestows harm of gift without reason.

And the pack that turned away from the moon, would soon regret their injust and inhumane behaviour towards a daughter of the moon.