CHAPTER ONE | THE PULL OF LUST

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ALEK

     It's getting closer. I thought to myself as I matched forward in the light drizzle of snow. It was late March, so the snowfalls were lighter, while the snow on the ground was thinning and getting muddy. I had been planning to cross into Weberville from Peace River, but I had to make last minute changes to my plans due to meeting a cleared area where there was supposed to be thick woods and vegetation to hide as I traveled. The area seemed to have been cleared for the construction of warehouses, and that meant I wouldn't be able to travel unnoticed until construction was over or paused for the season.

     Sadly, I don't see that happening soon. March was almost over, and spring was on its way. If anything, construction efforts would double. 

     I pushed my hair back, forcing the long blond strands of hair to stay in place. I had my hair in a high bun, but stray strands kept getting loose. I gritted my teeth, trying to fight the chill of the breeze that just blew by as I kept walking. There were other werewolves around. I knew that. I could smell their scent, and I've been avoiding them for the past few days.

     Being alone was hard sometimes, but it wasn't so terrible that I sort refugee with a group. I'm a lone wolf. In other terms, a rogue. I left my pack in the Siberian Mountains and I traveled through Russia before leaving the country completely. I move from town to town, state to state and country to country without much thought.

     I don't need much thought. All I'm trying to do is fill the void and emptiness I can't stop feeling. Right now, I'm in the middle of Nowhere in a small town in Alberta, Canada. Peace River has a population just scratching seven thousand. It's also largely rural with acres of untouched vegetation and wilderness. It was the perfect place for Werewolves to hide in plain sight, and that's why I had been eager to cross over to the next town, but the construction work had rendered me stranded. I now have to seek out the wolves I've been avoiding for the past three days. It's aggravating, and I'm also worried and a bit hesitant. I haven't hadn't seen a full pack in years. Five to be exact. I left my pack at the age of thirty, and now I'm thirty-five.

     Why are they building in the snow, even? I wondered to myself, biting and licking my lips to give it much needed moisture. Dry winters were the worst. And that was Canadian weather for you. Dry and cold. It would be completely unbearable to travel on foot if I couldn't change into a wolf. I started to slow down my steps. The scent of the pack was becoming stronger, and I was beginning to have second thoughts. I could always find a cave in the woods to spend the night. I'm comfortable with my wolf form and I could spend a few days — even weeks wandering about as a wolf and it wouldn't be a problem.

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