Alpha Featherstone (Book 1- Completed. Offline Editing)

5

I watched as they took the Beta towards the doctor. Ferdinand was still unconscious. The Gamma and leaders stood off to the side, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Have all able wolves, sober or not, gather by the Alpha house. You have twenty minutes before I start demoting your asses." My voice was a mere whisper, somewhat overused due to the fact that I had been speaking more than usual.

It had to be done sooner or later.

Making my way back I watched as wolves around me either sprinted past me or stumbled towards the Alpha house. A smirk slowly plastered itself across my face. I reached the house and stepped up to the porch, barely paying mind to the lump of meat still at my feet. Some gagged at the sight and smell. It was somewhat amusing.

My eyes landed on them, the leaders. They seemed worried. The Gamma and another stronger male approached me. I gathered that he may very well be the Delta male.

"All able wolves are here... Alpha Featherstone..."

I nodded and held up a hand to indicate for them to wait. I entered the house and after a moment returned with an ancient item. Eyes of the elder generation of wolves shot wide open.

The glass goblet, encased in a golden stand, was as old as the werewolf people themselves. But few still remember the Vial of the Blood Curse, as our predecessors had named it.

I sat the vial down and turned to the wolves, remembering what my father had told me it had been used for in the past.

"Father, what is that?" I remember myself asking.

"That, child, is the Vial of the Blood Curse."

He seemed to want to say more, but my mother was eyeing him warningly.

"A curse?" I had asked. "Like our curse of becoming wolves?"

My mother had huffed and waved her hand in a motion as if to tell him to go ahead.

He sighed, putting his pen down. "In a time when our ancestors were all still new to this world and chose to live in solitude, there was always war and death and carnage. One wolf would claim a territory and another would steal the territory from them..."

"Like rogues, father?"

"Not entirely. We were all basically rogues. A strong wolf wished to unite his people and decided to visit a witch. He explained his wish and she provided him with the Vial. Her words to him were: 'Should you find another who wishes for the same as you, cut your finger and place a drop in the Vial. Let your new follower do the same and then place another of your own blood inside. If there is more than one, wait until they have all placed a drop in after you, then place a second drop. The first drop will signify your willingness to carry others, your complete devotion to them. The second will seal your bond with them. It will also signify that you take the lead and all responsibility for them. Always make sure to be the first and the last.'" my father had sighed as he stared at the goblet. "'And then drink the blood.' the witch had told him. The wolf had done as she asked, moving from town to town to gather followers. Then they found a place for themselves and settled. Back then only men were wolves, so naturally conflict arose from under the wolves, especially near the time of a full moon. The wolf had set out to find the witch again, with the Vial. When he found her he once again explained the problem and begged her for help.
The witch took the Vial and shattered the glass into a pot. Over an enhanced fire she let the glass melt and started adding herbal liquids and silver to the glass. She reshaped the glass again, making a bigger Vial as she chanted. Finally she handed the Vial back and spoke to him. 'Take this to your people. Place a drop in again and let them do the same and then add a second drop. Remember to always be the first and the last. Then you must drink.' The wolf went home and once again did exactly as the witch had told him. Not long after he had drank from the Vial did the change come. Human females showed up from every direction, women strong enough to bare children for the wolves.