Chapter 2

• Someone was pounding on my door.
• Taking off my headphones, I was unaware of who it was since I did not have the heightened wolf's senses or mind link yet. Merely human, with just the hint of wolf DNA waiting to come to life.
• “Who is it?” I asked politely.
• “It's moi.” The deep voice chuckled.
• I was surprised, but nonetheless smiled and spun around from my desk. “Come in Dad.”
• He entered with a cheerful smile. His warm chocolate eyes glanced around until he found me sitting at my desk in the corner.
• “Working hard?” He wondered, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.
• I chuckled. “D-Dad, even y-y-you know I'm not d-d-doing anything.”
• He sat on the edge of my bed, fluffing my pillow. “Yeah, I know, Dad. This is my only day off in the week!”
• I gaped at his imitation. “I do-do n-not sound like that!”
• He hummed. “Okay Emmy, sure, you don't.”
• I grumbled at the use of my nickname but turned back around and continued with my drawing. My parents had named me Ember Hope, which translated to new hope, rather corny, if you ask me. But Dad insisted on calling me Emmy.
• Dad jokes.
• “Reggie,” I grumbled.
• “That is father to you, Emmy.” He chuckled, not bothered by the use of his name. “Ah well, best be off. I just wanted to see if you wanted to go for the pack run.”
• I shook my head. “Dad, you know I can't sh- shift, and they'll just b-b-bully me about it.”
• My father knew of the torments to a certain extent; though it was just name-calling. But he persisted in me joining in on the pack fun even though he knew I never would.
• “Okay Emmy, if you change your mind, I'll be the most handsome wolf there.” He chortles before leaving the room.
• I blew my fringe from my face with a roll of my eyes. Dad was so cocky, even as an omega; he was proud. With wavy, chin-length blonde hair that he always curved behind his ears, he was proud of his appearance and still caught the eye of many women, even though he was mated.
• He met my mother on a hunt when they were both only seventeen years old. She was from a neighboring pack when he caught her scent across the border. Many moons later, they were mated and expecting their first child; my older brother, David.
• David was a twenty-three-year-old blonde, much like my father, with the same deep chocolate eyes. I joined the family when I was four, and he was five, and the close age gap between me and David meant we had a good bond.
• My parents were omegas, but they enjoyed the graft. My mother was always in the kitchen as one of the head chefs, and my father was often out on patrols. Our pack did not discriminate against omega wolves, but we were not as privileged as the in-between and higher-ranking wolves. David had gained a warrior status at only eighteen-years-old and travelled to another pack to 'help, but I think it was really searching for his mate. He dreams he'll make it as a gamma, a third in command, even though it wasn't in his blood.
• Mates were getting harder to find as females seemed to dwindle in numbers around here. Especially since higher-ranked wolves usually had male offspring. It was easier for those in higher ranks to find mates, as our Moon Goddess made sure packs were running strong. Wolves like me take longer to find them, often having to marry on. And females could not travel, as it meant they couldn't leave the pack. Since we were dwindling in numbers of one in five, most packs didn't want to lose us. Absolute crap if you ask me.
• Anyway, thousands of years of history have led to a population like this. This contributed to numerous wolves finding their mates in other species or genders, or some not at all, like I said.
• The pack life could be sexist. They expected women to go around cooking, cleaning, etcetera and wait for the day a mate shows up and sweeps us off our feet. The thought made me sick. I don't see how a mate could be so welcoming, particularly when people who are supposed to be my pack family were so hate-fuelled.
• To me, it felt as though women were mere possessions. A man could not be an alpha without a mate, after all. Male wolves with mates gain more respect than those without, making me feel like women are objects of power. Hence, why David had gone on his search and I had not. He had left home just over two years now. Last I heard, he was in a pack south of here, helping them protect themselves from rogue wolves.
• Without realizing, I ended my drawing. Putting down the pencil, I studied what I had created.
• When drawing, I went into a trance-like state and time passed around me too quickly. Today, I had drawn a vibrant forest, with a huge black wolf lurking beyond the tree line, its eyes as black as the night. It was intriguing; I had drawn a wolf I had never seen before, yet he seemed so familiar.
• Humming to myself, I placed it in my sketch folder, under this week's date. I drew a new picture every week on my day off, last week was also a picture of a forest, but it had a small river and waterfall that poured into a lake.