The Girl Behind The Shifter God

Chapter 2

Melrose Brown

I barely survived P.E., but the thought of my after-school job at a small repair shop kept me going.

Izzy, the owner, was one of the elite warriors that once protected our pack, she was also my fathers childhood friend. She despises our current Alpha and never misses a chance to reminisce about the old ways. My mother hates her, but honestly my mother hates anyone who tells her straight and well I don’t think Izzy knows any other way of communicating except bluntness.

The bus ride to the shop takes about an hour, which gives me just enough time to finish my homework. I know I won't have time later. Tonight is a mandatory pack assembly, and attendance isn't optional.

The old pickup truck sits outside the shop letting me and all know Izzy is inside.

As soon as I walk in, the familiar scent of motor oil and roasted coffee washes over me, soothing my heavy heart. I’m safe here. Izzy knows exactly what I have to endure at home, but she never pities me, and I appreciate that more than anything.

The cloud of smoke that circles her as she works on something, her cigarette hanging from her lips, glasses perched on her nose.

“Hey Kiddo, some leftovers in the fridge” she says not even looking in my direction, still concentrating on her task.

I go to the fridge, smiling when I see the plate of pasta, I don’t even realise how hungry I am until my stomach crumbles. I hear Izzy chuckle from across the garage.

“Your useless mother is still not feeding you?” she asks, sliding her glasses onto her head.

I don't answer, just shovel a forkful of pasta into my mouth. Even though she is useless, she’s still my mother. Some naive part of me still wants to believe she actually cares.

Twenty minutes later I am sitting at the work bench with Izzy showing me how to strip down and clean a carburettor when she starts her usual talk of the old times.

This is my favourite thing about our time together, when she fills me with her tails of the past. I like to imagine a world where wolves were free to be their own person and not be ruled by an Alpha with his own ideas of fairness and how the good of the pack meant what benefits him and his own.

“Do they still teach you kids about the Gods in that school?” Izzy asks, as she looks over the top of her glasses at me.

I just shake my head, my interest pricked now.

“That place is going to s**t” She mutters, taking a long drag of her cigarette. “Back in the old days of Gods, they watched over our kind and they ruled fairly. You see even Alphas had to answer to the gods back then.” She points her half-burnt cigarette at me. “We had the Moon Goddess, Selene, sure. But we also had Koshmar, the God or retribution, or God of nightmares as some called him”

“Koshmar” I say, liking how it sounds as it rolls off my tongue.

“Koshmar, well he would hold people accountable for their actions. He worked like the enforcer for Selene, making sure her wolves upheld her laws. For instance the breaking of the most sacred of her laws, the mate-bond.”

I rest my chin on my hands as I listen to her.

“Some say he feisted on their souls, some say he would torment them, he would move through the realms in the shadows. But this was why the Goddesses laws were upheld, then he just disappeared.”

Sitting up now, “What do you mean he disappeared?” I ask, curious to know about this new God and wondering if I have been praying to the wrong God this whole time.

“Dissapeared,” She shrugs her shoulders. “Gods and legends are only relevant if people believe and well in this pack ignorance overtook the Gods relevance and they just stopped believing” Izzy says, lighting up another cigarette, her crown of smoke back in place.

We spend the rest of the afternoon in a comfortable silence, but my mind keeps wandering back to the God of Retribution. Koshmar.

Later, Izzy gives me a ride back to the packhouse. I thank her, and she gives me a curt nod before peeling away. Izzy never bothers attending these mandatory assemblies. She’s too stubborn and rebellious to give a damn about Alpha Erik’s rules, and for some reason, the Alpha actually tolerates her defiance.

I head around back to the clearing where the assemblies are held. It’s already packed. I keep to the shadows, trying to go unnoticed as usual.

I spot Connie standing with her parents, her little brother on her fathers shoulders, the perfect family.

The feedback of the microphone cuts through the chatter as Alpha Erik takes the podium, his Luna standing proudly by his side. He clears his throat.

“Glad to see so many faces here tonight for our weekly assembly.” His voice booms, “As you all know, we have kept our borders strictly closed for years. We do not mingle with the outside world to protect our pack from its corruption. But this isolation has come with a heavy price. Our bloodlines are stagnating, and our birth rates are at an all-time low.”

He pauses, letting the grim reality settle over the crowd before continuing. “To ensure the survival of our pack, and to reward the warriors who keep us safe, the Elders and I have passed a new decree. Effective immediately, all unmated omegas of age will be drafted into a breeding program. They will be made available for our pack warriors to claim and use as breeders.”

My blood runs cold.

A shocked murmur ripples through the crowd. Some look downright terrified; others, mostly the warriors, are nodding in approval.

No. This cannot be happening.

Panic claws at my throat. They have already taken my parents, my childhood, and now they want to strip away my free will? To treat me like livestock?

My escape plan needs to happen sooner. I have to get out of here now, I can’t wait for my first shift anymore.

I spin around to bolt and slam face-first into a solid wall of muscle. I don’t even need to look up to know who it is.

Jax stands there, arms crossed over his chest, raising a single brow at me.

I attempt to step around him, he moves into my path blocking me from leaving. He never says a word, just looks down at me in his normal stoic expression.

“Move!” I snap, as frustration gets the better of me. He smirks but remains in his place.

Sighing I drag a hand down my face exhausted from a day of hell. In that moment of utter helplessness, I don’t know why but his name floats into my head, Koshmar, the God I have only just heard of but very much wish can hear my prayers.

‘If you can hear me, please help me escape this place’ Is a silent prayer I send to the God of Retribution, Koshmar himself.