Vitusian

When they brought me before the council, it was to the expectations of the entirety of the mountain packs that I meet my end there. Checked it, from every single angle possible and I come up with the same answer every single time. They do not care about us. They only care about the rigid traditions passed down for us. This is the age of phones, fast cars, and the internet. There was no way they were going to keep all the young wolves out of the real world anyway, and it was only a matter of time before one of us killed one of theirs, and then the balance we'd struggled to keep for years, the balance our fathers fought for, would all tip over. Except that in the most horrifying daylight nightmare I had ever had, I was stunned to find that it was me, who was being led to meet the council, have his fate decided. Me, Wade Dustan II. The heir to the River Mountain Pack and only son of my father's lineage still left. I still don't remember much of the event, but I do know now that I'd been more than just violent with that b*st*rd. Hell, I'd torn him to pieces in my rage and through bloodlust. Now that I stood before my father and the rest of the powerful wolves that ruled Mount Reaver, it seemed too surreal. I'd killed a human. And for what? Because of another human girl? Wolves that killed humans before they were a hundred years old were always exiled for the same number of years. And now, as I looked into my father's eyes, I knew without a doubt I would find no pity there. I was going into exile. Because of a human girl.