Ivan
Fletcher Pierce.
A werewolf who hates me just for existing. That isn't an exaggeration, either. The rogue attacks that happened when I was born were the end of the conflict that had been a war for nearly two years. Seven packs turned on us, siding with the witch coven, and only three are left from that alliance. The other four couldn't sustain themselves and had no choice but to join other tribes. Fletcher's pack was one of the three who had the resources to endure, but I don't think he's forgiven me for surviving.
