"I'm a psycho at the bottom of the pack, and you're a warrior built to kill. Isn't it a weird mix?"
He shrugs, a wicked grin plastered to his face.
"I think it's the perfect mix."
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*Completed *
Klepto is a werewolf, an...
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Green pack, West Virginia present day Klepto POV
I steal
It's not that I like stealing, even though I always have, it's just that it's a compulsion I've never been able to control.
From day one the need to take what doesn't belong to me pushes me to do some pretty crazy things.
I still remember the first incident.
At the time, I was a mere five years old. My mom had brought me to a sleepover with a few other girls my age, who I had previously never met.
Spoiler alert, the whole thing was a disaster.
I ended up sneaking three Polly pockets and a half pack of bubble gum into my backpack. The bratty, previous owner of these invaluable objects wasn't happy to say the least.
It's not my fault pigtails hadn't kept her eyes on her belongings.
After a couple more reoccurrences, my dear parents were called to the Alpha's office. They left me in the hallway outside to twiddle my little thumbs while they chatted with good old Alpha Green. More on him later.
My father tried to hide it from me, but I knew without a doubt that they were discussing my misbehavior. I mean, it was rare for me to be alone with my parents at all seeing as how I have nine siblings. I've always been kind of overlooked.
A few days after, I got the lovely Daryl Fitzer, the pack psychologist who was assigned to help me "work past my issues".
Dr.Fitzer insisted that it was a permanent condition. He demanded that no matter what, I would be living with Kleptomania for the rest of my life.
Our Alpha, Alpha Green, stubbornly held his decision and made me go through rigorous counseling.
Needless to say, the stealing has never stopped.
One session a week turned into two, two became three. Before I knew it I was spending hours in Fitzer's office. We talked and talked, discussing every topic under the sun, but I never really opened up to him.
To be honest, he's a nice werewolf, but it all felt too invasive, too private.
My stealing habits only grew worse as time drew on, and the pack learned to absolutely despise me. Kids my age were evil, and middle school and high school became my own living hell. I had in turn gained myself the lucky nickname, Klepto.
My real name, to this day, is rarely in use. Even my cruel parents and siblings rain the reminder on me, as if it will somehow make my disorder disappear. It never does.
By the age of sixteen, Alpha Green fired Fitzer because the treatment wasn't working, he was kicked out of the pack.
I couldn't help but feeling like it was all my fault. Probably because it was.
