Curse of the Blue Blood Moon

Chapter 1: Training with Siblings

    “Damnit!” I growled, tearing through my room for the hundredth time. Every morning. Every SINGLE morning I somehow lost the damned thing! I scattered clothes across the floor, digging through a pile of laundry then scrabbling under the bed. It had to be here somewhere!

    There was a loud knock at my door - more of a banging, really. “C’mon Princess! Let’s go already!”

    I gritted my teeth. I hated when my cousin Vincent called me that. I was no one’s princess, and he’d relearn that for the millionth time once we got down to the training grounds. If I could only just…

    “Princess,” he sang, drawing out the word in a mocking little song. “I’m going to come in there and drag you out!”

    “Shut up you asshat! I’m coming!” I snapped, and I heard him cackle from the other side of the heavy door. I climbed out from under the bed and spun around, scanning the ground. There! I picked the custom-made sports bra out from amidst the pile of dirty shirts. I didn’t have much of a chest to speak of, but they don’t make sports bras for...well, anyone like me. 

    I struggled into the thing and glanced at my reflection in my vanity mirror.  My mom says my face is heart-shaped and very pretty, but I suppose it’s up to opinion. I’d say most people are distracted away from even considering the idea that I might be pretty by the fact I have massive, russet-furred wolf ears instead of human ones. They lay flat back on my head as I looked at my reflection, betraying my suddenly sullen attitude. The fur of them runs down the sides of my face, where a human's ears would be, before fading into my full and wavy hair. I am a fan of my hair at least - the auburn, red-brown tones of it matches my fur, and brings out the bright yellow-green of my eyes. 

    I reached over to my vanity and picked up a hair tie and brush, quickly gathering my hair into a loose tail. It’s more awkward than you might think, putting your hair into a ponytail when you have tall ears. After nearly eighteen years of practice, you’d think I’d be an expert. I am not. Inevitably it gets tangled in the ruff of fur I have on the back of my neck, shoulders, and upper arms. Reaching back at the angle you need for the neat, high ponies most girls can get also doesn’t work with my posture; due to my half-wolf frame, my spine has a permanent forward hunch, starting just below my shoulders, making it almost impossible for me to lean back to reach up and above my head. And, as many of my peers have pointed out, making me look like I’m constantly looming over people like a cheesy version of Dracula. It had certainly put a dent in my ability to get anyone to go on dates with me, that's for sure. The last crush I'd asked out hadn't so much as said no as he just sort of yelped and ran away.

    More banging from the door. “C’mon Princess! We all know you’re already beautiful! Let’s go!”

    Some day, you will let me eat him, my wolf, Hellebore, growled in our mind. 

    Some day, but not today. 

    She snorted and I grinned, broad and wolfish at my reflection. How else do werewolves grin? 

    I quickly pulled a loose tee over my head and large, baggy shorts up over my paws and hips. Getting my tail through the reinforced hole in the back of the shorts was a simple roll of one hip. I gave it a small wag just to be sure nothing was caught, feeling the red and black fur flow unpinched. 

    I straightened and put on my game face. I stared hard at my reflection. Two more days. Today, then tomorrow, then tomorrow night. I’ll finally be eighteen. I’ll get my answers. I’ll finally get to ask the Goddess Selene why I was born half wolf, half human. 

    And if I was lucky, she'd point me in the direction of my fated mate. I sighed at the very thought. Finally, to have someone who would love me unconditionally, to hold me and...well, let's not get carried away. Not yet anyway. But if I was as blessed by the Moon Goddess as Mom always claimed, then surely my mate would be the most amazing man on earth. He had to be. 

    I went to the door and threw it open. As I suspected, Vincent had been leaning on it, and nearly fell face-first into my room. But he didn’t get to be the top warrior of our age bracket by having reflexes that poor. He caught himself and made up for the lost balance with a small hop, which he used to bump me out into the hallway. 

    “It’s about time, Princess,” he laughed.

    I growled at him. “I told you to never - “

    “Yeah yeah, I know this whole song and dance. But what gets you grumpy gets you moving, so…” he trailed off as he started sprinting away from me, down the hall and towards the stairs. 

    I snatched at him but was just a fraction too slow. My growl became louder as I bolted after him, as always fighting the urge to drop to all fours. I learned at about age five that most folks didn’t, well, appreciate their future Alpha running around on all fours. At least not when they weren’t in full wolf form.

    I passed my little brother Birnam’s room just as he stepped out, his chocolate brown hair still wet from the shower, and nearly collided with him. 

    You should stop calling him ‘little’, Hellebore chided, He’s officially taller than you now. 

    I laughed out loud. “You’ll always be little to me, Birnie!” I saw just a flash of puzzlement cross his dark hazel eyes before I sprinted on down the hallway. At the end of it, I saw my little sister, Illyria, come out of her room also dressed for a workout. She smiled broadly at me, showing off a few missing teeth. She was only ten, but already excited to start taking her place in the pack. I gave her a high-five as I passed, and she started jogging after me as we headed downstairs. 

    Down three flights of stairs we came to the polished wood floor of the front hall of the packhouse, where Vincent had had the good grace to stop and wait for me. When he saw Illyria behind me, he frowned. 

    “Lil’ miss, you’re not coming to the grounds with us.”

    “But - “

    “Your age group doesn’t even train today!”

    “All my age group ever does is yoga and jogging,” Illyria whined, putting on her best pouty face. She had the same long, narrow features as our mom and I in her jaw and nose, but her still round baby cheeks made the pout way too adorable. “I’m so bored. I wanna start learning to fight. Please coz?” She amped up the puppy-dog look with her big brown eyes and Vincent was toast. I had to stifle a giggle as I watched him fall apart in front of us.

    “Dang it Li, you know I can’t… with the eyes and the face…” he trailed off, waving helplessly at her. He made a sort of deflating sound and tromped off. Illyria smiled and bounced in her little orange trainers. 

    I grinned down at her. She was tall for her age, but seeing as I was nearly six-foot-one, she still only came up to my waist. “You know Dad’s not going to like this.”

    “Well it’s up to Mr. Baird, isn’t it? I won’t tell Dad if you don’t.”

    “You’re getting too smart, you know that?”

    We both laughed as we made our way down the hallway towards the back of the house. We passed briefly by the kitchen, waving and wishing “good morning” to the omegas hard at work on breakfast. Most refused to make eye contact with me, but smiled warmly at Illyria. She was everyone’s favorite. I tried to ignore the fact that that still stung.

    Illyria seemed to sense my discomfort and turned back to the kitchen. “Can we have blueberry muffins today?”

    “Of course Miss Illyria!” said Mrs. East, the head of the household staff, giving her a small bow. Illyria came bounding back up to meet me at the back door.

    “You didn’t have to do that,” I mumbled as I tugged open the sliding door.

    “I know. But shouldn’t they make the future Alpha’s favorite? It doesn’t hurt anything.”

    I sighed. I know she was just trying to make me feel better, but it still stung. I was almost eight years older than Illyria and the kitchen staff knew all her favorite foods and all the occasions to make them for her. But they hadn’t thought to make any of my favorites on the week leading up to my birthday. I didn’t think they even knew what my favorites were. 

    I shook it off. These were spoiled brat problems. Most kids - most wolves, even - didn’t have house staff to make them anything, let alone their favorite foods. 

    Don’t let your privilege go to your head. It makes for a weak Alpha, one who the pack will not support. 

    I focused on Dad’s words as we made our way through the backyard and down the hill to the training grounds. It was a clear, cool morning - pretty typical for winter in Colorado. All the snow from a few days ago had melted away, leaving everything just a little muddy. Neither Illyria nor I had bothered with warm clothes; as soon as the sun was all the way up, we'd be plenty warm. 

    At the base of the hill was a narrow stream with a small, rough stone bridge. On the other side was a large open space of tamped grass, carefully carved out of the surrounding forest and rocky terrain, and divided into sections by lines of white sand.  Off on the north end was a small, low building dug partway into the earth like a baseball dugout. It served as storage and a waiting area for folks about to start training, or those who wanted to watch but not stand out in the open. Mr. Baird, the pack trainer, also had a small office inside it, further recessed down below ground. His constant going in and out of it had earned him the nickname “Mr. Badger”, which he was light-hearted enough to enjoy. 

    About three dozen other pack members - all in their late teens like Vincent and I - were milling about, waiting for training to start. Vincent had already fallen in with some of his friends, but he waved as we approached. At the sight of Illyria and I, there were more than a few snickers hidden behind hands, poorly hidden stares, and eye-rolls. Just like every other morning. 

    I hung my head. Even this close to my birthday when I’d finally be an adult looking for my mate and potentially taking over the pack, no one my age seemed to have any respect for me. It was all about how I looked. Even with the specially tailored clothes, my makeup, doing my hair - it didn’t matter. I was still the half-wolf freak. The wolf with a human face, or a human with wolf ears, feet, and tail. Even in a pack of werewolves I stuck out like a big, red-furred thumb, and my “peers” never let me forget.

    One girl peeled off from her little circle of friends and sauntered her way over to me. Justine. I stifled the urge to growl. We’d been friends once - until I realized she’d just been getting close with me so she could start gossip. Her long, chestnut hair nearly touched her ass as she swayed it on her walk over, making every guy nearby turn and stare. I rolled my eyes, and caught Vincent rolling his as well, which made me grin inside. She couldn’t even walk without insisting everyone pay attention to her.

    “Hey Elsie, it’s so cute you brought your little sister. She your new sparring partner? You know, since that whole fiasco with Damien?”

    I blushed furiously. Damien was one of the few nice guys who’d agreed to spar with me when no one else would. In return, I’d accidentally dislocated his shoulder. One of the many “gifts” of my condition was not really knowing my own strength. Accidental injuries happened way more often than I liked.

    Before I could think of anything to say, Illyria piped up beside me. “Nah, I’m here to watch her kick your ass!”

    Justine just laughed. It was annoyingly pretty. “Aw, so she’s your cheerleader! That’s even better!” She bent over, getting close in Li’s face and showing off her ass to the crowd watching us. “I’m not stupid, pipsqueak. Your monster of a sister breaks everything she touches. You know that better than anyone, right?”

    Li’s little face scrunched up with an angry retort, and I saw Vincent move in the crowd like he was about to jump in, but both were cut off by a blur of motion. A hulking figure had lunged between us and grabbed Justine by the throat, hoisting her into the air like she was little more than a ragdoll. 

    It was our brother, Birnam. 

    Hellebore wasn’t kidding when she said he was taller than me now. He’d turned fifteen four months ago and he was already six-foot-three and potentially still growing. He’d inherited Dad’s broad build in both his face and body, which meant that he was already turning out to be an imposing figure. I had to imagine that the more he worked out and developed muscle tone, he’d get closer and closer to straight up terrifying. 

    Even so, he was more than strong enough to lift someone as slight as Justine, who squirmed helplessly in his grip as his dark hazel eyes burned with fury. 

    “Elsinore is your future Alpha, and you will show her respect,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. The rest of the junior warriors around us took a few steps back. “And she has enough self-restraint to not tear you limb from limb for your s**t. I’m not so mature. So watch your scrawny ass.” He carelessly tossed her to the ground where she landed in a heap, coughing and sputtering. 

    “Who cares?!” she shouted once she’d caught her breath. “We’re all as good as dead once she takes over! No one’s gonna follow her - she’s gonna destroy our pack!”

    “That’s enough!” boomed Mr. Baird, who was just coming up out of his office. His grey eyes flashed with anger. “Justine, grab a sandbag. Two hundred pounds. You’re running with added weight until you learn your place.”

    “But - “

    “Make it two-fifty!”

Justine finally clammed up. She hung her head and moved past him into the building to get a sandbag from a storage locker inside.

    Mr. Baird glared around the gathering, eyeing the other teens. Most had the decency to look away, but it was clear to me that more than a few agreed with what Justine had said. It was one of my greatest fears. Even if I was as strong and smart as my parents dreamed I could be, no one would follow me as Alpha. I hurt people without meaning to, I had bizarre powers, and I looked like a freak. These people - including Justine - were supposed to be my pack. If they rejected me, what would become of Silvermoon? And if one of them was my mate...there was a good chance he'd reject me on that level too.

    Mr. Baird stared hard at a few of the more defiant of the teens in the group. “We follow our Alpha,” he growled, his deep baritone easily carrying across the grounds, “not only because he or she is strong and deserving of respect, but because it is what makes us wolves of a pack. It is who - and what - we are. Our Alpha gives us direction, focus, community. It is our duty as warriors to protect our Alpha so our Alpha can unify and lead us. If our Alpha falters, we do not reject them; we support them, so they can recover and make stronger decisions in the future. 

    "The ONLY reason,” he punctuated “only” as Justine reappeared, glaring at her, “we reject our Alpha is if they abuse the pack with malice and intent. Accidents happen to even the most perfect of leaders.” He turned to me, giving a slight bow. “I believe firmly that Miss Elsinore will make a fine Alpha when Alpha Benedict one day steps down. Who better than The Blessed to lead us?”

    I blushed again and nodded my thanks to him. The title “The Blessed” still made me feel awkward, no matter how many times the sages and core believers called me that. 

    “Now, I think ten miles through the territory seems like a good warmup. Would you kindly lead us, Miss Elsinore?”

    I nodded eagerly, letting go of the tension in my shoulders. Of my whole day, the morning run was what I enjoyed most. I could just focus on the earth beneath my paws, the wind through my hair, and the murmur of the forest. All I had to do was listen to the call of the Rockies, and it always set my mind at ease.

    “Mr. Badger?” Illyria queried, raising her little hand. “I was wondering - “

    “Yes, Miss Illyria, you can join us. But no, no sparring for you. You can follow the move sets with some shadowboxing if you want. If you’re good about it, I won’t tell your father. At least not directly.”

    She did a little fist pump of victory and then came up beside me. “Ok! Lead the way Elsie.”