Being a lycan has never been pleasant. The huge form, larger than any normal werewolf, the pitch-black fur coating my form, the piercing blue eyes instead of the yellow eyes that wolves normally had, urges more primal than any other wolf, a bloodlust stronger than what was normal even amongst the wolves, it was all a reminder of the fact that I already knew. I was a misfit, an abomination. A lycan in a pack of wolves. There was not a single drop of lycan blood anywhere in the entire Rivera bloodline which was what had angered the dowager alpha when I shifted for the very first time. He had thought me to be a bastard at first but the DNA test had proved his theory to be void. I was his son, no matter the amount of shame it brought him.
"Not as though he loved me before that," I thought grimly.
They said lycans were a curse. And it did feel like a curse at times. During the initial years when my lycan gene had been activated, I would wake up every morning, naked on the forest floor, covered in the blood of an innocent animal whose dead body lay beside mine, with absolutely no recollection as to how I had gotten there. The dowager alpha would make sure that the bodies were take care of but since he deemed me to be a danger to the others, he would restrain me in the cells every night, especially during the full moon. His reaction might've been bad but it had at least been less drastic than the way 'she' reacted.
The day I shifted for the very first time, 'she' left the pack, horrified that I was a lycan. The dowager alpha gave me the news the next morning, emphasizing on how important it was for me to keep my lycan status hidden for it disgusted him that his son was cursed. That day I swore to myself to never shift again. The feat was easy since I was a skilled enough warrior to be able to defend myself in my human form. I had a good amount of control over my wolf and could suppress him whenever I wanted.
That control, however, had somehow snapped the moment Shaayna was shot. The picture of her lying there, blood pooling around her, her eyes shut closed sent me into a frenzy. In an attempt to calm down, I tried taking in deep breaths. That however, seemed to aggravate me further as the metallic smell of blood mixed with that sweet scent of hers flooded my nose.
My rage fueling with every breath I took, I let my beast take over control as I shifted into my lycan form. I looked up to the moon and howled, overcome with anger and pain before stalking in the direction of the man's unconscious form, fully intent on killing him.
But right as I was about to sink my jaws into the man's jugular, a faint beating sound caught my ears. It was coming from my mate. Leaving the unconscious man, I walked to where her form lay and bent down to put my ear upon her heart. And sure enough, her heart was still beating. It was growing faint with every passing second though, meaning that she needed immediate medical attention.
"Go," said a voice behind me as I turned around to face my beta who had insisted upon joining me for the search, "I'll take care of this man."
I shifted into my human form, picking up my mate in my arms before rushing towards my territory. Entering the medical wing, I lay her on one of the stretchers, ignoring the looks from the pack members present there. Explanations would have to come later, right now all that mattered to me was my mate.
"Please wait outside, Alpha," said the pack doctor politely.
"But I…."
"You know the rules, Alpha. Unless you're mates or family, you can't stay during the procedure."
Sighing in resignation, I walked out of the room, sitting myself down in one of the benches, my nerves gnawing at me with every passing minute hoping that she'd survive.
"Where's she?" I heard a commotion near the entry before Alpha Damison barged in, the backup team following him.
"In the emergency room," I replied dejectedly.
"She got shot! How the fuck did she get shot? What happened to the backup?" Alpha Damison said furiously.
"We got separated, Alpha Sean," spoke up one of the Dark Moon warriors.
"How do you get separated from the very person you were supposed to cover?" the alpha scolded.
My ears blanked out the conversation around me as my mind focused on one detail, the bullet was silver; I could've sworn I had smelt traces of the metal on her. Silver was fatal to wolves and despite the pack doctor being quite efficient, I really hoped that they could save her.
"You failed her as a mate," I chided myself, "what sort of a person allows their mate to get shot right in front of their eyes?"
"Alpha Rivera was with her when she got shot," said a warrior, bringing me back to reality.
"And pray tell me where on earth you were when-" Alpha Damison turned towards me with an accusatory tone before he stopped for a second to take in my disheveled appearance. He sat down in the seat next to mine and sighed deeply before speaking, his tone a lot gentler this time,
"I'm sure she'll be fine. The medical team looks skilled. I'm sure there isn't anything to worry about."
"I'm not worried about her," I defended, my voice betraying the emotionless façade that I was intent on keeping up.
"You're allowed to care, you know?" Alpha Damison continued, "just cause you don't want her as your mate, doesn't mean you can't care about her."
"The bullet was silver," I said in a soft voice, "and it had been in her body for almost twenty minutes before I was able to get her here."
"She's immune to silver," Alpha Damison stated, "I'm not allowed to share the details of how that came to be but just know that silver is as good as any other metal when it comes to her. Unlike the other wolves, it's not lethal to her."
I calmed down a little after having heard this news. Perhaps it would go a little better than I had feared. Oh, I hope she would get better!
A scuffle in the background cut off my conversation with Alpha Damison. My heart thumped loudly in my chest and it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my chest as one of the pack nurses, Irene, walked up to us and said,
"The patient is conscious and out of danger, Alphas. You may see her now."