Chapter 1 The Worst Son In The History Of Werewolves

• NALEDI’S POV
• One bullet, one gun, one dead body and I will be free.
• I stood at the top of the tallest building in New York with my sniper gun as I targeted my last kill for the Russian Mafia - The Bravta pack.
• The last job that would make me a free woman after five years of paying back the debt I owed from stealing from their organisation.
• Dressed in a black assemble, I set my gun target down to a building, a hotel room with an open window, a hundred miles from where I was.
• I could see the old fool that I was supposed to kill. He was one of the most despicable people to have crossed planet Earth; A human with the guts of an animal.
• He was the latest shitbag I couldn’t be more honoured to get the privilege to kill. His name was Clifford Right. A politician and one of the stupidest humans I have heard of - Because believe me, you’ve got to be the most foolish human on earth to think you could cross the Russian pack and go scott-free.
• Other than the fact he was running for president, he owned a big underground sporting ring where he launders money made from the women and children he trafficked out of the country.
• When Alpha Volkov gave me his portfolio, I was more than happy to do this as my last gig for him. I studied him for the longest time, and when he climbed on his flavour of the night, ready to satisfy his primal urges, I pulled the trigger.
• I never missed a shot.
• I watched as the bullet silently left my sniper gun and found its way to the hotel room, entering through his back and hitting his heart. I didn’t need to confirm his death.
• The Russian pack rented out a building to enable me to perform my job tonight. For a second, enjoyed the look of horror on the woman’s face, who was now stained with the blood of that shitbag.
• She’ll have a long time explaining how that happened.
• Without further ado, I packed up my gun and went downstairs. I had exactly three minutes to get out before the police arrived.
• I got downstairs and like always, a car was ready to take me. After showing his card, I got to the backseat, and he handed me a phone before starting the engine.
• “Hello.” I breathed a sigh of relief when we passed the ambulance that rushed through the streets, alongside the police that followed right after.
• “Attai.” I heard the voice of my employer, or should I say, Ex-employer. “You’ve done a wonderful job once again.” His tone was light, “It breaks my heart that you have refused to be a part of us.”
• “A deal is a deal,” I stated, my voice taut.
• “Don’t get macho on me, baby.” I hated when he called me that. “If you are not going to join us, you should at least honour my invitation to tonight’s ball.” He made a mock-distress tone. “I can’t be seen walking around alone, you know.”
• “Alpha Volkov,” I said in a wary tone but he cut me off.
• “Until the next three hours, you are bound to me. No excuses. Meet me at the ball, darling. Don’t keep me waiting.” With that, he turned off the line and I angrily punched the air.
• I didn’t like the idea of going to a darned ball with clueless humans, wolves and terrorists crawling the area. I was still trying to maintain a low profile and the last thing I wanted was to mess up the life I created away from the Yakuza pack.
• The car dropped me off in the middle of the night rush and I hailed a taxi to the hotel I boarded. I was going to the darned mating ball. Yay me.
• **********
• I hated crowds but I loved the anonymity that came with them.
• I walked into the darned ball, dressed in a short gown that left little to the imagination. My eyes scanned the area as I looked for my ex-employer.
• Tonight, I went by the name Linda Smirnov. A name prepared by the Russian mafia to protect my identity. Soon enough, I sighted Alpha Volkov. The head of the Russian Mafia and pack - My ex-employer.
• He was surrounded by a few other criminals I couldn’t be bothered to mention, so I decided to look around for some time. Occasions like these were where I gathered information.
• While others were looking for their mates and making valuable connections, I dug for information about the Italian pack - My sworn enemy. I joined a couple of women drinking by the bar area when I heard them talk about the Italians.
• “I heard he is coming to today’s ball.” One of the women said in excitement. “I’ve heard he looks heavenly and his wolf is the most powerful in the century.”
• My eyes perked at that. They were wolves. Interesting.
• “I thought he was old.” I cut in, surprising them. “The Alpha of the Italian pack. I have heard that he is old and gritty.”
• The second woman vehemently shook her head. “Of course not. Alpha Caellum is not old. He is young, handsome and powerful. If only I could get my hands on him.”
• “Caellum?” I asked in confusion.
• “Yes! Haven’t you heard? He took over the throne as the Alpha of the Italian pack a few years ago, throwing down his father’s reign with a war in the headquarters.”
• I was glad I came here. “Overthrowing his father? He must be the worst son in the history of werewolves.” I said with a smirk, but they were silent.
• I met the gaze of the gossiping women and they were filled with fear. Borderline horrified. “What is wrong with you?” I said and that was when I felt it.
• The presence of someone beside me. The sudden silence in the ball. And the excitedness of my wolf who urged me to turn around.
• I turned around and I couldn’t believe it. There he was, easily towering over me with his brown eyes, and ticking jaws. His smell was heavenly and it took a lot to withhold from devouring him.
• He seemed angry. Like I have said something wrong. The entire people looked pitifully at me. I hated that. “Who are you?” I asked despite knowing exactly what he was to me.
• “Alpha Caellum.” His tone was taut and impatient. He placed his hand in his pockets. “The worst son in the history of werewolves.”