Chapter One

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With my head held low, and Ray-Bans dimming the fluorescent light of the street lamps, I knew I looked ominous. Menacing. I had my hoodie pulled over half my face, and kept my eyes focused strickly on the pavement.

I could already feel the heat of my body escalate, and my eyesight sharpened. I could see clearly the cracks beneath my feet, each one branching off into many others. The smell of decaying tree leaves and dew mingling with the grass blades intensified, making me want to claw at my nose. It was too tangy, like always. The smell caught me off guard no matter how many times I had already endured this. Or how many more times await me.

I felt myself slam into a man's bulky shoulder. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he roared. It sounded rougher than I expected, but my guess was everyone was like this after the sun had set. 

"Sorry mate," I mumbled. What happened to London being home of the educated people, jeez. A sudden gust of wind sent more smells my way. The bittersweet smell of autumn invaded my nostrils and I recoiled. My hands twitched inside my pocket.

Bloody hell, when am I going to get used to this? The tips of my fingers throbbed and a shudder coursed down my spine. My hair itched through my thin cotton shirt, but I knew that scratching at it would be useless.

I was nearing the park corner and my pace quickened. Another shudder ran down my body, this time through my arms and legs. My steps turned more into bounds, and my fingernails bit in though my sweater and shirt. My feet began to cramp in my shoes, and I knew I had just about ten or fifteen seconds to reach the secluded end of the park. Or else there might be more than just turned over grass.

I stopped for a second to make sure no one was near, and pulled off my shoes. With a close examination, I could tell five more steps in these and my favorite pair of converse would turn into my least favorite pair of sandals. So, note to self- wear old crappy shoes next time. I put my shoes in my backpack after taking out a pair of shorts and a camisole. I hid them behind a bush along with my Ray-Bans and flip-flops. I put my back pack under an overgrowth of another bush, matching the deep forest green of the backpack with the leaves.

The muscle in my legs ached under the weight of my body, and I knew that I had no more than three seconds to find the good territory. My running sped up and my body hunched forward. Soon my palms were hitting the ground, nails digging into the soft dirt.

My clothing tore as my body mass multiplied. My feet and palms turned into paws. I let out a yawn, stretching out my face and testing it. A small whine escaped my lips before I could stop it. It was too loud, too obvious. No seventeen year old girl would have a yawn that sounds like a feline out for prey. I had to be more careful; even if it did feel good to stretch out my legs, or how far in the park I was.

My tawny fur was still growing, and it took a while to get used to. It itched all over, but I focused my ears and nose for listen for any game I could find. The distinctive smell of a rabbit influenced my still changing body to chase after it. It wasn't much food, but what else was I going to find at the edge of London? Wildebeest? I ran after it, acutely aware that I was at the end of my territory.

The plot of land next to mine was wolf territory. And after a few run-in's with that particular wolf, well, let's just say he isn't my most favorite being in the world right now. He's selfish, annoying, conceited, offensive, rude, a show off-

Get off my land before you makje me do something you'll regret.

...And standing right next to me. I let my self slow to a stride and turned around. The wolf was abnormally tall, a little over five feet. His fur was was a frosty black and brown, his eyes a deep blue. He was one of the rare Morphers- a Royal. He was a stuck up rich guy, I knew by experience. And undoubtedly a royal pain in the butt. His stature made me want to spit at him.

Oh calm down, would you? I caught a scent and was tracking it.

On my land. Now leave before I have you as my dinner instead of what I already caught. It would be a shame to waste such good meat. His voice was thickly laced with a British accent, barely understandable. It sounded very familiar, to be honest. His jaw was set in a growl, top lip pulled up in a snarl as he let a growl rumble through his teeth.

You better shut up, you worthless little mutt. I could turn you into puppy kibble if I wanted.

Ooh, the little kitten thinks she can take me on. Careful, if you stress too much you might explode, Blondie.

First off- I'm not blond. Second, I wouldn't be talking if I were you, you arrogant mutt. All royals are known for their pea-sized brain. I took a defiant step towards him, letting a growl hiss through my clenched teeth. My lip twitched before letting myself turn around with my head held high. I knew that I was low on the social ladder, but no "royal" will ever intimidate me. Ever. I sprinted after anything else I could find, a mouse even, if it was necessary.

~*~*~*~*~

It was just about 3 am, and I began to drift away in my sleep.  No, I can't. It isn't safe. I shook my head and let out a yawn. Maybe taking a run around the territory will help. I stretched my front legs out, my claws digging into the soft earth. I bounded to my feet, and began in a soft pace while taking inventory of the land. I passed by six oak trees, five spruce trees, and multiple bushes.

Thump, thump... Thump, thump, thump, thump... Thump, thump...

I skidded to a stop, my breaths shallow. The sounds weren't coming from me, I knew it. They were out of tempo, too quirky and secretive. It wasn't an animal, our survival skills were better than that. Even mindless squirrels knew better. No, this was more... humane.

Ah damn... My heart nearly broke through my rib cage, the steady beat turning frantic and dizzy. Everything was quiet enough that you could literally hear my heart racing from a mile away. I never liked this kind of quiet. I had to hide somewhere... I had to get myself out of here, before I became a lab rat. Or worse... a trophy. I jumped behind a row of bushes that lined the edge of an inky pond, and tried to swallow passed the lump in my throat formed by treacherous fear.

The steps grew louder and louder, cautious and slow over the crackle of dry leaves and weak twigs. They stopped, but I never heard the person's steps of retreat. Even though I waited for what felt like an eternity, and the park was probably safe again to roam, something just didn't feel right.

"Peek-a-boo!" A woman's head popped up from in front of the bushes, scaring me half to death. I tumbled backwards, heading head first into the water.

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