Wolf Omega: The Lykanos Chronicles 2

Prologue

As I write this memoir, the year is 1923, and I am known to the world as Gabrielle Borchardt Roussade. This is not my original name, nor will it be last. I am lycan and immortal, and sometimes my name must change to accommodate the practicalities of the mortal world we share.

After such a long and secretive existence, my heart already races from writing here with such honesty.

Last year, a young man by the name of Daniel Archer came into my life. He awakened to his lycan nature less than a mile from my house, and I took him as my first fledgling. You may have already read his memoir of that experience, or chronicle, as he calls it: Criminal Beware. More than anything, it was reading Daniel's chronicle—seeing how he perceived me—that convinced me to try to do the same.

Despite the many reasons I've had to record my life's events, I've attempted nothing more than scribbling observations here and there along my journey. These were almost always short, private notes meant to help me observe my thoughts critically, as my first mentor once taught me to do. But I've never kept a proper diary, unwilling to sit still long enough to do one justice. But now, I feel duty-bound to share with those who would listen and learn from my experience.

My undertaking is obviously quite different from Daniel's. He is young and captured his experiences only months after they occurred. While I must tell you about a girl so far removed from the woman I am today that I struggle to recall how she perceived the world. My present mind will no doubt color the recollections. Even more challenging, my story began over two centuries ago. Lest this memoir take thousands of pages to tell, I must focus my narrative only on those people and experiences that affected me most.

During the past week, I have learned to "type" on Daniel's Underwood Number 5 typewriter, the handsome machine he spent months clacking away at in his office. He insists this device is the very best way to write my story—fast and modern—no matter if quills and pens have never failed me. For Daniel, I now remember what I can of my life, one noisy push of a button at a time.