Rejection on the Full Moon

Do you know the stories of werewolves? Beings that shift into wolf form on full moons with no choice in the matter? Beings whose animal instincts take over, leading to inevitable bloodshed?

They are true... Well, everything but the full moon bullshit.

My name is Amberle Crest. I am supposed to be a Beta or a Head Tracker due to my bloodline, but you would never know.

I come from a modest pack, Forest Paw. Stupid name, I know. It is situated in the middle of a forest in northwestern Ontario, close to a place humans call Sauble Beach.

The thing about my pack is that it was a family. People loved you no matter who you were or what had happened to you. Everyone was family, and we helped each other in times of need. Or so they said.

I haven't had any sort of familial relationship past the age of eleven. The only familial love I've gained in my life came from Alpha Blue. He treated me like family when he did not have any meetings or pack business that required him to travel. When he was out of the territory, my life was a living hell. At just eleven, I learned a lot about how a pack could turn on you, even at a tender age. It was a horrible experience.

I was eighteen before my life finally took a turn for the better. But it was only after my life had come crashing down around me in a painful twist of fate. 

But before I get ahead of myself, how about I start from the beginning?

 

SNAP.

I whimper as my bones break and realign themselves. I remember waking up feeling sick, with mother and father saying I could stay home from school for the day. About an hour ago, I went to the kitchen for a drink, and that's when it happened: my ankle broke on its own, and I let out a blood-curdling scream, which had my parents running to me. It was then that we realized I was shifting.

"She's only six! She shouldn't be shifting till she turns sixteen!" It was my mother, her voice laced with fear and worry. I knew that the fever I had been experiencing since last night was now not a cold or the flu. My body had decided that now would be the time I would shift into my wolf form for the first time.

SNAP.

I cry out, my voice mixing with a howl. How could anyone expect a six-year-old to handle so much pain in one go? I know the risks of an early shift. Father made sure that we knew that the shift was a painful process and reassured my siblings and me that we would be fine when it happened at sixteen. Except now, I was shifting at only six years old. 

All I want at this moment is for the pack doctor to come and numb me. Tears are forming in my eyes as I helplessly look towards my mother and father, begging for help.

"It just means our little Amber will be mated to an Alpha one day, maybe even a royal," my father says with pride as he reassures my mom that everything will be alright. He hugs her briefly before bending down and holding a bottle of water with a straw to my lips.

"Drink, Amberle, it'll help." I do as he tells me and quickly drink as much of the cold liquid as fast as I can. He is right; it does help. But my skin feels like it is on fire like it did when I accidentally scalded my foot with hot tea, but ten times worse. More bones break and shatter before reforming, the pain causing me to retch, bringing up any fluids inside my stomach. 

SNAP.

My body contorted with pain as I shifted onto all fours, my body changing from human to wolf, the pain more unbearable than before. Tears were streaming down my face as my jaw became longer, forming a snout. My teeth sharpened unnaturally, and fur covered my skin.

SNAP.

My mother leaves the room crying, knowing that the probability of me making it through the shift at this age is low. I could end up dying today just from the shift.

GROWL.

My father wipes away the sweat and blood caused by the fur that continues to pierce my skin like sharp needles, causing the ears that shifted to the top of my head to flatten with pain.

SNAP.

WHIMPER.

SNAP.

After what feels like an eternity of pain, I slowly open my eyes to a new sensation. The house is quiet, but I can sense my parents in the room, their presence calling to me like a GPS signal. Some instinct tells me to listen. 

"Honey, are you okay?" My mother's worried voice carries from across the room from where I am hiding. I whimper slightly, wanting to answer but finding I can't. It takes me a moment before my mind wraps around the fact that I am in wolf form. My tail thumps gently, and I let out a soft whine. It is clear that my parents are giving me space to learn about my second body, letting me test my limbs and focus on the new sensation of being lower to the ground. With courage, I stand on wobbly legs, taking my first step before crashing to the floor and out of the safety of my hiding spot behind the kitchen island.

My parents gasp, and I stare at their faces, their eyes wide with awe as they watch my movements. As I struggle to stand again, my mother quickly helps me up and lets me use her body as support.

"Amberle, you're beautiful. Maxwell, grab the full-length mirror from the hallway, so our daughter can see herself," my mother exclaims happily, her hands in my fur, softly petting me. I give her a puzzled look as my father walks away to carry out my mother's request. After a few minutes, he returns with the mirror, the glass portion hidden from my view. Curiously, I follow his movements, but my eyes are blocked by my mother as the sounds of the mirror being set up reach my ears. Finally, things quiet down as I feel my small body being led to a particular spot. Curiosity causes me to grow impatient. I want to see what I look like.

"Tah-dah!" My mother exclaims, taking her hands off of my eyes and moving out of the way. I face my reflection with shock and curiosity as a fluffy ball of fur stares back at me. From what I can see, I am the size of a full-grown medium dog. I'm smaller than most werewolves who shift for the first time because I am only six, but I'm still bigger than I expected. In all honesty, I shouldn't have shifted at all for another ten years; that's when a werewolf is mature and strong enough to handle the pain the first shift brings. The wolf in the mirror has fur like fire, and it is this fur that mesmerizes me the most. My striking blue eyes stand out against this fur. It's like the surface of the sun, with multiple oranges, reds, and yellows. It holds my attention in the reflection of the mirror, and when I move, each strand of fur sways as if I am a ball of living fire.

I am beautiful, and I know it, even if I am only six.

For a while, I just stare at myself, moving my tail and paws to watch my fur. My whole being fascinates me. Hours pass and my parents leave me to watch my reflection as I sit quietly on the kitchen floor. Now and then, they remind me to drink water or eat food, which they place in bowls for me. I just refuse to shift into my human form and go back to walking around like normal.

"We're home!" My sister calls as she and my brother slam the front door closed. School must have ended for the day as their loud footsteps announce their approach towards the kitchen.

"How is Amber doin—" My brother stops his question when he catches sight of me. He stares at my form, my tail wagging with happiness to see my siblings. Both had shifted early, Zack at age ten and Mia at age nine. Zack is now fourteen, and Mia is eleven. Both have more experience as wolves than me and know the pain of an early shift. My brother was considered a prodigy when he shifted. It meant his life would be hard because his shift was early, same as Mia's, and now mine.

"Is that Amberle?" Mia asks in awe, her eyes staying on me.

"Yes, apparently, the fever she had this morning was her starting to shift," my father answers, taking the mirror away from me. I whimper in protest, biting the cuff of his pants gently and giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry, Amber, but you've sat in front of that mirror almost all afternoon. You need to get up and move around more to get used to your wolf side." I whimper again after his statement as I move to keep staring at myself. I know my father is right. My clumsy attempts to keep the image of my fur in front of me have my body tripping and slipping on the hard wood every few steps until Father and the mirror are too far to catch. I can hear the gasps from my siblings, and I turn to see their eyes still trained on me, on my fire-like fur. Their wolves are dull compared to mine. Zack is a beige wolf with a white spot over his left eye, and Mia is a soft russet brown with black-tipped paws. They are the same colors as my parents' wolves.

But I am unique.

I am different.

And I am determined to stay that way.