Devon Gordain was never popular, even before he found out he was a half-breed omega werewolf. He grew up in the orphanage that his father owned. Devon's mother was a rogue wolf, and Devon inherited his mother's werewolf status. When his best friend...
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Picture is Devon in human form
"Ericca, will you stop pacing?" I asked my best friend in the hotel room she shared with her little sister Rebecca. Rebecca was currently across the hall in the room I shared with our friend Nari Moon, doing who knows what. And here I was, trying to calm down a worried soon-to-be Alpha.
"Can't," Ericca answered shorty, not looking at me.
I groaned and fell back against her bed. "Ericca, it's not going to be that bad! The packs-"
"You know nothing about the packs, Devon!" Ericca turned to me and I sat up. The only time Ericca raised her voice was when she was nervous, scared, or anxious. "If they found out what you are, who knows what will happen!"
I stayed quiet for a few seconds. I knew exactly what she was talking about. I was what the werewolf world called a half-breed, meaning I was only half werewolf. Apparently, most supernatural half-breeds were accepted, but human half-breeds were bad. And that's exactly what I was. My mom was a rogue werewolf and my dad is a human. Ericca explained to me that rogue's had a bad reputation, because they were mostly kicked out of their packs. Except my mom apparently just left her pack, preferring to be a lone werewolf. Then she met my dad and my twin brother and I were born.
Ericca told me that rogues had a bad reputation, and that I shouldn't really say anything about my family in pack land. She didn't tell me why, but she was serious.
I eventually said, "They won't find out what I am, Ericca. You know they won't."
Ericca sighed and sat next to me. "I'm just worried, Devon. My pack is fractured, and I don't know how many people I can convince to come back."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry. You're going to be a great Alpha, Ericca."
She didn't answer and I knew she was lost in her thoughts again. Just then, there was a knock on Ericca's door.
Seeing that Ericca wasn't going to answer it, I got up and opened the door to see our blonde friend Yevgeniya Bogomolov. Standing beside her was our Hispanic friend, and who shared rooms with Yevgenia, Duena Cardoso. Both girls pushed past me, Duena looking amused and Yevgeniya looking antsy.
"Close the door, Devon!" Yevgeniya said with a slight Russian accent. She had immigrated to the United States from Russia when she was around five, and had come to the orphanage only a few months after, when her dad died.
I rolled my eyes and closed the door. Sometimes I wonder why I have so many female friends.
I turned around to see that Duena had closed the curtains and I instantly knew why Yevgeniya looked uncomfortable. Sure enough, as soon as the curtains were closed, Yevgeniya unzipped her jacket and pushed it off, letting her pink wings free. She was a fairy. Well, technically she was a Vila, which Ericca explained was a fairy-like creature from Slavic mythology. I don't know much about them.
