𝐏 𝐑 𝐎 𝐋 𝐎 𝐆 𝐔 𝐄

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Three Thousand Years Ago

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He can see the obvious betrayal in the eyes of his wife. The way tears welted up in the corners of them. His hand extends in an attempt to provide comfort. The comfort she so usually sought out. But she recoiled at the touch.

"Remus, you bedded another woman. Yet you expect me to forgive you so easily?"

Now it was his turn to recoil. Remus took a step back, respecting the distance she craved in this very moment. "She meant nothing, Lucia—"

"She has given you a son! Your first born son!"

The crackling of the fire provided just enough light to shine against the face of Lucia. Surely, the people of their village would soon rise from slumber due to their shouting. 

Remus could feel his anger resurfacing. How could she not understand? She was his heart. It was a mistake. He couldn't even remember the night to begin with.

"I was bewitched!" The Village Leader said with great exasperation. Only to be rewarded with a scoff from his wife. A silence settled over the couple for quite some time. The only thing to be heard was the nature that surrounded them in the dark night. 

"You tell her to leave this place. To leave our home with her bastard son."

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If only Remus Gladstone got the chance to. Instead, the pair awoke the next morning to find the infant outside of their hut. No parchment written with an explanation or anything. The promiscuous witch had left their small village. Leaving behind the Chief's bastard son. For some time, Lucia contemplated on what to do with the babe. He was just days old.

Despite the circumstances, Lucia's empathy won out, deciding to adopt the boy as her own. Influenced by her own swelling of her stomach. Even if it pained her every time she glanced at his face. He would be named Everan.

In the coming years, Everan was gifted with more siblings. Legitimate children, unlike him. First was Minerva who was born during the time the flowers began to blossom. Next was Althea, coming into this world during the longest and harshest of winters. The Village would often speak of the impact the weather had on their personalities. Minerva being the kind, gentle-hearted with a motherly touch. While Althea proved to be the stark opposite with her reticent tendencies and her pugnacious attitude. 

Lastly came the boys. Cassius was born shortly after Althea. The longest and most difficult labor of the three so far. Her screams echoed through the night for hours on end. His birth was troublesome, much like his demeanor. At long last were they gifted with Percival's presence. The smallest of the bunch, far too eager to greet his family as he came much sooner than expected.

But as the years passed, Lucia began to realize the truth in her husband's statement all those years ago. 

"I was bewitched!"

As each of the children began to grow, she began to notice little things. How ravenous their appetites would be, how they managed to eavesdrop on several conversations, the feral attitude they adapted. Her children had been cursed.

Everan was the first to experience it. The night of the full moon brought the eldest such pain. Each of his bones breaking repeatedly, the way his nails dug into the earthly soil as shouts of anguish emitted from him. His bones continued breaking for hours until he could no longer recognize himself. He wasn't human. One look in the nearest pond told him so. Instead of seeing rugged, boyish features staring back at him, he was greeted with a black snout.

His siblings followed the same transition afterwards, their eldest brother helping them through it all. 

And so one by one, they were joined as one with their wolf. Coming to terms with the fact that they weren't human. A pack was formed between the Gladstone children. Everan as the Alpha and Althea as his faithful Beta. They were werewolves.

The first of their kind. 

This is their story. 

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