The Lone She-Wolf

Clara's POV

I pressed my fists against the leather of the focus mitts.

"Again," yelled my coach for the zillionth time. He would drill me on a combo so many times that I felt like my arms were going to fall off. Still, I was cool with that. It's better to be able to fight and defend myself than to be one of those helpless girls.

"Hyaah!" I cried as I struck the last blow in the sequence he had just shown me this morning. I had given the final blow everything I had, which meant that, for the time being at least, I had learned my lesson.

"Clara, that hurt like hell." He gave me a hiss, but beneath the anger, his expression was one of smiles. Seeing the pride in his eyes pleased me.

I apologised to Jax. As I laughed, a tiny giggle crept into my voice. It was amazing to witness my level of resilience.

"If you weren't so little then I'd say there was no way you were really a girl," he smiled this time.

"Jax, that was mean."

"You are aware that this is a compliment." He laughed at my complaining, so it was either that or my pouty appearance. "Compared to most of the guys in my gym, you fight better."

"It is not difficult to do. The majority of them believe that size is a prerequisite for excellence, but that simply gives them more targets to hit and less speed. Moreover, the majority of them are brainless, so they are unable to use those muscles efficiently." Plus, most of them don't have the added benefit that I do. I added my own ideas. In my words, Jax had to practically cling to the wall to stay upright.

"That's why I like you, kid—you're smart and have a lot of personality. Proceed and change now, or you risk being late for your upcoming class." When I looked up, I saw he was right. My previous instructor had stopped getting paid by Grandfather, so I had to schedule my training sessions between classes at the local college.

"All right, Jax, I'll see you next week," I said to him before racing to the rarely used, empty women's locker room.

I hurried through my shower, as usual, and then I pulled my long brown hair up into a high ponytail, letting its naturally wavy curls hang to dry. I threw on jeans and a hoodie over my t-shirt. I honestly didn't have the time, but I imagine that most first-year college students took longer to get ready for class, especially the females. Especially not right then, when I was really lagging behind.

That I could run a little bit faster than most people in these situations brought me relief. Certainly faster than a human, though maybe not as fast as the rest of my family or the pack. I had to really force myself not to run too fast as I hurried back to campus.

Thank goodness, I got to class early and enjoyed myself. Still, being able to recognize when something was ahead of me or when someone was approaching in my blind spot was useful. All of us werewolves appeared to have some sort of magical talent given to us by the Moon Goddess. I mean, technically, I'm not even a werewolf, but whatever.

After entering the room, the lecturer started working. I found this class to be very annoying because it was required. I had wanted something that would challenge me intellectually and make me think, but they had still only taught me what my grandfather's tutors had taught me when I was growing up. My relatively comfortable upbringing and education came to an end when I turned eighteen. And while Grandfather did still give me some financial support, it was definitely far less than what it had been when I was a kid.

However, I accepted that. I'm so much happier out here by myself now. I'm not under his strict rules anymore, at least not as much. I was happy that the only rules I really had to follow were those set forth by the pack.

Clara Ravenwood here, and my family was once very high up in the Crimson Grove Pack ranks. My grandfather was actually the Beta to the previous Alpha, but the latter was killed in an attack a few years ago, and the Alpha's son took over. But even being the Beta wouldn't be able to prevent a significant incident from harming my family's reputation.

The wolves are a proud people. Grandfather used to tell me those words every day when I was a little child, as far back as I can remember. But that same pride had not stopped my fifteen-year-old mother from disappearing for a weekend and then coming back to face her father's fury. They later found out she was expecting a child, which made things worse. She refused to tell them who the father was. Since they instinctively thought that the father was not a wolf, they viewed me as an abomination.

In any event, I was still a member of the pack, and the former Alpha had instructed everyone to treat me normally until she was certain that I would not change into the others. Our wolf forms usually appear when we are thirteen or eighteen years old.

Guys will be guys, and they'll still compete in whatever way they can, though that's not always the case. The idea that your wolf will become stronger the sooner you shift is a popular one. I'm going on nineteen, and I still am the same person. I still possessed all the other wolf traits. I had all the abilities I needed, including strength, speed, improved senses, fighting instinct, etc. I had a sense of belonging among the group. In addition to being obviously not human, I wasn't a werewolf just yet. I just didn't belong anywhere.

I couldn't question my mother directly about my dad. Whether or not she was just too scared to talk to her father, the shame and disdain my family experienced during her pregnancy and in the first few days after her birth was too much for her to handle. With all these years behind her, maybe she is not as afraid. In the end, she killed herself when I was less than a month old.

The only thing my mother had left was a pendant, which she asked me to have when I was an adult. I spent the most of my time living with my Uncle Garrett and his wife Eve after my mother died. Their two boys, who treated me like a sister, were the highlights of my childhood. It truly amazes me that they went through with it, and if Grandfather had his way, they most likely wouldn't have.

Honestly, everything would have been great had Grandfather not been alive. I swear it, he despises me. He had ridiculously high expectations of me. He would tell me over and over that I would never make the same mistakes that his poor daughter did.

I had to live with his norms ingrained in me every day for years. My cousins and I were denied the opportunity to attend public school, just like the other children in the pack. I was meant to have extensive knowledge on a variety of topics. I learned foreign languages, musical instruments, etiquette, martial arts, ballet, boxing, fencing, and fencing in addition to an incredibly difficult curriculum.

Grandfather covered all the expenses, believing that when I turned eighteen, I would transform and he could utilise me to get back some position in the organisation or at least get me married into a decent family. But as my birthday drew nearer and eventually arrived, it became clear to everyone that I was not going to change. I did not possess any wolves. It was not my place to be with the other pack members; I was a freak of nature, an abomination.

All pack rules still applied to me, though. I still had to show up for every pack meeting. I still had to bend my knees and droop my head for the Alpha to tell me to do so. His words were unquestionably given to the pack, and we were powerless to disagree. And most of the rich families still treated me like an outsider in spite of all of that. As someone who was just never meant to be one of the popular kids.