The Runaway Breeder

I sit in front of my mirror, my reflection staring back at me. My straight chestnut-coloured hair is piled on top of my head into a perfect bun, and the off-the-shoulder blush coloured top and high-waisted black lace skirt adorn my body, hopefully portraying me as a confident young she-wolf ready to take on her role in this pack.

Last month, I had just turned sixteen, the age a wolf finds their role in their pack and—possibly—their mate. It is the time when all wolves are deemed "adults" in our community, when a she-wolf can choose to give up school and start a family with her mate if she so desires. In the eyes of the werewolf nation, any wolf aged sixteen who has shifted to their wolf form is able to take on responsibility in furthering the success of their pack, with their Alphas designating their roles at the pack meeting on the first day of each month. Since I had missed out on last month's meeting due to my birthday being three days after the last pack meeting, I was unable to obtain my pack position. But today, I will be taking my place as a functioning adult in Pine Paw.

I couldn't help but smile at my reflection in excitement at the prospect of working and gaining respect from all; this thrill lifted my mood. My eyes shot over to the picture of my cousin, Chris, and I taped to the mirror. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my cousin will be there to support me no matter what role I received from the Alpha. Just after my birthday, when I first shifted into wolf form, Chris and I had gone for a run in the forest surrounding our territory. His idea was to get me accustomed to being on four legs instead of two.

I remember Chris' black wolf form towering over my blue-white fur with black-tipped paws in the warm early-spring sunlight that the month of May had to offer that day, and the annoyance I felt knowing that I still have a few more years to continue growing into my wolf form while he could easily take me down. I look like a pup compared to my cousin, but being able to run around the territory and enjoy the early morning sun in wolf form felt incredible. There's no better feeling for a werewolf than your four paws pounding on the forest floor with the smell of the new leaves on the trees, the crisp pine, and the scattered scents of prey all around you. As a werewolf in wolf form, you feel complete in the forest. On that day, with Chris chasing me around like we were a pair of pups, I finally felt that sense of being whole.

"Laina, let's go before we're late," Chris yells impatiently, snapping me out of my thoughts. Chris's voice carries from the foyer where I know he waits, with a look of annoyance directed at me all the way up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror and adjusting my shirt, I sigh, stand from my seat to look around for some shoes, and slip on a pair of knee-high black boots. I grab my cell phone from the desk beside the door while rushing out the room and scurry down the hallway. "I'm coming!" I reply back to my cousin, hurrying down the stairs to where he waits for me.

One thing that is annoying about Chris is his need to always be on time. Chris is what I like to call "time O.C.D." when it comes to being punctual. He would forget where he put his phone down and forget where his keys to his car were, but he will never fail to be early to a function or event. One example of Chris' habit of being early would be just a couple of years ago when we went to the movie theatre to see the live-action remake of "Beauty and the Beast." You can just imagine Jack and I waiting for an hour on Chris to find his wallet and car keys. He was running around the house like a chicken with its head chopped off only for the three of us to be miraculously two hours early to the movie because Chris had planned ahead that day for a late-night viewing. Needless to say, by the time the movie started to play, the bag of popcorn in my hands was a soggy, inedible mess for my pre-teen self to enjoy. I spent the entire movie with buttery hands and a bag of gross popcorn that I had since discarded on the floor.

"You look amazing," Chris gushes as I descend the final steps of the staircase and come to stand before him, doing a slight spin for my cousin to approve of my outfit. He has a look of pride in his amber eyes. I did everything with my cousin Chris, who acted as a brother, a parent, and a best friend. His approval meant the world to me, especially with today being the next step in my adult life as a functioning member of this pack. His mate, Jack, saunters over, giving me a once-over and a wink before snuggling into Chris's side with a contented smile on his face. "Thank you. You two look amazing as well," I reply with a blush as I take in the two complimenting each other with black slacks and button-down shirts of similar shades of blue.

[Message From The Author: Please note that I wrote this book intending to pass on the knowledge that different cultures have different rules and that "Grooming" can happen to any minor. Being as this is a werewolf novel keep in mind in this setting, most werewolves are considered "Adults" when the werewolf can shift for the first time at 16 years old. In this book, 16 is the legal age in werewolf Pack in Canada. This Book does include scenes of R*p*, Kidnapping, Child Grooming, and other scenes some readers find offensive. If you feel that even after reading this warning you still wish to read the book, great, if this is something you don't want to read after the warning, that's fine too. This is a work of fiction and is by no means meant to promote anything mentioned in this book.]

Jack and Chris are the first openly gay mates in the pack that had come out about ten years ago. This pairing had started a bit of a rift amongst the pack when the two had found each other while on a run in the forest. I remember the excitement Chris had when he came home that night. He whisked my sleeping form out of my princess bed at ten o'clock at night to make me a plateful of chocolate chip pancakes just to talk about coming across a grey wolf during his run through the forest. He couldn't tell who this wolf was, only that he knew just by scent that the two of them were meant to be mates. At six years old, I remember sitting at the kitchen island, trying to stay awake with the knowledge of my cousin finding his prince charming and the scent of chocolate in the air. My parents were furious with my cousin, stating that a pup needed to sleep when they caught me red-handed with half a plate full of pancakes and a chattery Chris...

But there was also a look of pride and excit