Rise of the Underdogs: KADEN

My life was anything but uneventful. It was filled with a whirlwind of experiences. Moments brimming with love and laughter. Much of that laughter was shared with my brother and our friends. Those close companions who made even the ordinary days memorable. My family was a blend of those I was born to and those I chose along the way. What’s the difference between the two? Blood family is just that. Those you are born to. They share some ideals but, beyond that, there was steady conflict. Those who lift you up when the world is determined to see you stumble? That’s chosen family. My brother was the best kind of family anyone could ask for, though. People bullied me? He took care of it. People disliked the colour of my skin? Oh, Dre totally took care of that for me. Through it all, I took on my role as the loving younger brother with pride and dedication, cherishing the bond we shared. That was why, when I figured out he was gay, I didn’t make a big deal out of it. Oh I was absolutely going to break into his diary, but he caught me before I could. I only found out after he told me that I would have gotten bright pink (think highlighter pink) dye on my hands. When he met his Mate, I was so happy for him that I actually danced around his room. Where I’d been sleeping became an unexpected point of focus. As I realised the implications of my actions, a wave of worry washed over me—oh… crap. He was going to go absolutely cray-cray. I braced myself for his reaction, anticipating frustration or anger. But he didn’t react the way I feared. My brother loved me too much to hurt me. In truth, he was not the type to hurt anyone. His care and compassion always shone through, even in moments when he had every right to be upset. Leif’s first encounters with me and my mom were anything but calm. He was visibly frightened the initial time he saw us, and I’ll admit, I went to some lengths to crack his stoic exterior. There were moments I’m not particularly proud of—like pulling pranks just to see if I could get him to laugh. It didn’t matter if I ended up scratched by thorns, chased around our enormous yard, or scolded loudly; to me, the results were worth every bit of trouble. That infamous bathroom incident, the one you might have read about in my brother Dreson’s book? That wasn’t just bad luck. And waking Leif up at seven in the morning by dumping a bucket of ice water on him was absolutely intentional. In time, Leif figured out the truth behind my mischief. He came to realize that my wild antics were never meant to harm, but to build a connection. I was testing boundaries, yes, but always with a sense of humour. My wolf side sometimes coming across more like a rambunctious puppy than anything truly threatening. Eventually, Leif understood that this was how my family worked. We welcomed him through laughter, even if it was a bit chaotic at first. Through these shared experiences, we found our rhythm. We didn’t just get by together. Whether we were working hard, playing even harder, or simply sharing moments of love and camaraderie, we did it all as family. The bonds we forged were strong, built on both the wild times and the quieter, heartfelt ones. Samhain was approaching steadily, and I was loving the fact that the family found our missing piece. A cousin who’d been harmed horribly, her trust shattered, ended up being the Mate of my childhood friend. The Baby Alpha himself. (If you listen really close, you might hear the entry music for John Cena playing when Neil entered a room.) Crap. He glared at me across the veranda where we (meaning me, Colt, Dre, Neil, and those of us who’d found our Mates) were standing. I must have thought that one out loud that night. Even after everything, I never really stopped teasing Neil about it. It became a part of our dynamic, a playful back-and-forth that never truly faded. That persistent teasing was exactly why, on the day Neil finally revealed the truth about the Werewolf community to Izzy, he ended up chasing me through the pack lands. The moment was as much about the honesty shared as it was about the laughter that followed. Our relationship thrived on these moments. A blend of mischief, revelation, and the deep understanding that comes from living as chosen family. WWE pay-per-view events and their related shows were a major source of entertainment for me. I found myself drawn to the spectacle and excitement, enjoying the high-energy matches and dramatic rivalries that played out on screen. Watching these shows gave me a way to channel my more aggressive instincts in a safe and controlled environment. The thrill of the fights and the storyline battles provided a sense of release, letting me experience the rush of adrenaline without letting it spill over into my everyday interactions or relationships. In this way, WWE became more than just a pastime. It was an outlet that helped me maintain balance in my life. Malachite perked up on Samhain. For the first time in forever, he pushed himself up onto his front paws as a human would push themselves up using their arms. His startling deep blue eyes, deep mahogany coat threaded with deeper browns, and his size (just a bit shorter and smaller than Neil’s wolf, King) made him impressive. But that’s not what caused the reaction he gave me. When I said he perked, I mean his ears immediately shot up and angled forward, a clear sign of heightened attention. His eyes became intensely alert, actively scanning his surroundings for any sign of movement or change. Every part of his posture shifted. He went from relaxed to rigid, his body coiling tightly as though he were a spring wound almost to the breaking point. The tension in his stance was unmistakable, signalling both anticipation and readiness. Years had gone by without my Mate, so I knew how Neil felt when he was losing hope that he would find his person. His one and only. His Mate. ‘She is here.’ Only three words escaped Malachite in that moment. That was the entirety of his consciously spoken response as he settled back, his weight pressing heavily into his left side. It was a noticeable shift—his posture deliberate and grounded. For anyone curious, there was a reason behind this: being right-handed, I always found myself naturally favouring my right, which meant Malachite, attuned to my habits, would lean to the left. That subtle mirroring in his stance made the connection between us even more tangible, as though we were two halves instinctively balancing one another. As the gravity of the moment settled around us, I forced myself to ask the question that had been lingering just beneath the surface. ‘Who?’ The words slipped out, quiet but insistent, even though I already sensed what the wolf within would do in response. Without any hesitation, the answer came from deep inside, clear and certain. ‘Our Mate. I can smell her.’ The conviction in his voice left no room for doubt, the primal certainty resonating through every part of me. I stared into the darkness, unable to stop the wave of disbelief that rose up. ‘Seriously? That’s… That can’t be right?’ Even as the words left my mouth, I knew that disagreeing with the beast inside would only leave me with a pounding headache. But disbelief was all I had, clinging to reason in the face of something that felt impossibly real. ‘I would have met her before now.’ Wouldn’t I? ‘Not if she was too young. Not if her wolf was not yet waking. King is asking questions, but do you really want me telling him that we’re the last of the crew to get our Fated?’ Malachite replied. He let out a low, lazy growl. Stretching out, he lowered himself to a resting position. Eh. What odds. ‘Tell him. He is your Alpha. Your King. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I’m a prince of a different nation, but he rules the wolf half of my nature.’ ‘Don’t remind me.’ He commented quietly. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly after that, each minute dragging more slowly than I had anticipated. The eagerness in the air was almost tangible, making every passing moment feel heavier, as though the universe itself was holding its breath alongside me. Then, something unusual caught my attention. A faint scent drifted towards me, subtle at first, but soon impossible to ignore. I paused, senses sharpening, trying to pinpoint the source. Sniff. Wait… hold the phone. Sniff, sniff. Was that… Was someone smoking honeyed meat? As the aroma grew stronger, I felt my mouth begin to water involuntarily. The rich, sweet smokiness teased my senses, awakening a primal hunger deep within me that I hadn’t realised was there until that moment. And the honey? Sweet, sweet honey. One of my all-time favourite treats just happened to be Honey Buns. The sweet, sticky, delicious goodness—Gods, it smelled like heaven. The scent waivered, almost vanishing completely. As if the she-wolf had suddenly decided to retreat, sending a silent warning: ABORT! ABORT! I knew I would have to track the scent later; there was no way I could react like the other guys. Them finding out before I was ready was not an option. I resolved to wait, biding my time until I could act without drawing unwanted attention. Not only that, but I wanted their reactions to Neil’s new attitude. I knew my acting was bad, but it would be enough to make him go from composed to playfully threatening me in seconds.