The Cursed Pack: A New Phase

Chapter 2: Ivan's Burden

I stared into the mirror, my life felt rather pointless, 25, no mate, no respect from my pack because I refused to do what all of my ancestors did, take a random mate continuing a line of cursed, sad and incomplete half alphas with enslaved Luna's who would always eventually succumb to insanity after birthing a few more cursed heirs. There was conflict because so long as I continued to be mateless, the members of my pack struggled to find theirs. Many were unwelcome at fellow pack events no matter how slight their aura was. Only the rogues and unwanted families from other packs that were brought into our family had the chance to find their mates, but even being associated with the Moonless Sky pack was seen as low. It was customary for the surrounding packs to still include us in events, mostly, I thought, because we were feared. Even though we were weaker than most wolves, our auras made battle beyond difficult, and our numbers buffed by rouges and the rebuked members of other packs gave us the highest pack count of any pack. Even if all of the packs of the regions combined, ours would still double their numbers. But with numbers, came pressure. Take a sacrificial lamb as a mate, or risk destroying the pack by choosing life without a mate.

My father and his father before him and his father before that and so on, seemed to believe that if the alpha mixed enough with wolves of other packs that eventually the death mark and vile aura given off by our pack members would be bred out, but it was blatantly obvious to me that it only got worse as we hurriedly betrayed our maker by forcing a bond with someone other than our destined, if we were so lucky to be given one. I believe that all of my ancestors were just too weak to be unliked and unloved that they felt forcing a mate bond was the only way. But to me, doing this was like raping the soul, taking something that isn't yours to take. Then beyond that, it was cursing my children, which I feared would be worse than the curse I carried.

My father was born with a white streak from Right temple to behind his ear, these white marks are called death marks by other packs. In his human form, my father's death mark was easily hidden if you ask me, in his wolf it was more apparent and his aura was strong, so much so that my mother who was forced to mate with him went mad shortly after I was born. She somehow broke the bond, survived it and went rogue.

I know that looking at her only son, cursed with severe discoloration as well as an aura that repulsed not only her but most anyone who got close was a bigger reason as to why she gave up the bond. My father said that she would beg for a child to make the forced bond worth it, then she got me. My aura is unparalleled, it drives almost any pack member away, and many people said it started with my mother. My father would sometimes take his loneliness out on me when i was a child, telling me stories about how she would shriek any time someone brought me into the room, how she begged them to not make her look at me. I remember hiding in the corner of my room, wishing for nothing more than a mother, or someone to touch me without repulsion. Those in my pack are even effected, they can spend time near me, but not much, and touching me is not for the weak of heart. Even pack doctors had issues treating me when i was a child. I can control it a little more now, but in times of desperation and emotional despair... it becomes harder to handle.

I sighed running my hands through my unruly mid back length hair before donning a t shirt and jeans. I lingered a little longer looking in the mirror, one red eye, one blue, my hair from the tip of my widows peak was split unevenly down the middle to the nape of my neck, half white, half black, my skin was even discolored, a black line that luckily looked more like a tattoo than a birth mark bisected my body like a lightning bolt from the right side of my neck downward. I painstakingly went to a few pack tattoo artists to try and blend the lines in with traditional imagery and old english. Sessions as you might imagine, had to be short and to the point, which lead me to ask the art teacher in our pack's school to find a member of our own pack to give a scholarship to train to become my own personal tattoo artist. I picked a young man by the name of Gabriel.

He was a class clown who had a passion for drawing, and I liked his style. I sent him to work under famed artists for 2 years after which I had him move onto my floor, attempting to raise his tolerance for my aura, which thankfully worked. Instead of 15 minute sessions, we could do an hour. I had my chest and abdomen covered up to my collar bone, both shoulders and my right forearm was covered. I went through a lot to cover who i was. Including dying my hair and wearing contacts, but at each shift, my hair would go back to its original color and of course my eye color was unavoidable. My tattoos even faded with each shift, which led to me getting a lot of work redone as deep as possible. Luckily thanks to the thickness of my skin, blow outs didn't happen, even if the needle was put a half an inch down.

I pulled down the color of my shirt to look at the words etched into my collar bone, "The spoils go to those who wait".

A gentle knock came at the door. I heard a heart racing on the other side. Not a pack member. I opened the door to see a small female, she was beautiful, long black hair blue eyes that she kept downcast, a curvaceous yet fit body. Definitely my type. She was fiddling with her skirt uncomfortably, which is when I noticed it's exposing nature, high heels, dangerously short skirt and low cut top. Ah yes, my father's calling card. He always made the girls he sent to me dress "more inticing" even though the style more so repulsed me.

"Yo..oung master alpha, I am Jen...i..." she struggled to find words, her breath caught in her chest and her heart fluttered uncomfortably between pounds.

"Stop. You are not feeling well. Please, leave". Panic flashed in her eyes as they darted up at me.

"I...i.. please, I'm sorry..." tears started flowing down her cheeks.

I sighed and walked past her, I desired more than anything to pat her shoulder, hug her or comfort her, but that would only cause her more damage. "I will take care of it..."

I stalked down the hall as my wolf growled angrily within me, maw at the ready. I took a deep breath as I stepped up to the elevator doors, pressing the up button. The doors opened and a familiar face beamed at me.

"Cassandra," I mumbled. A 20 year old gamma female of my pack who continually showed interest in me. I tried my best to stay away from her but when everyone else is repulsed and someone like Cassandra sets her sights on you, it's hard to resist.

She wasn't my mate but more than a handful of times I wished she was. She had golden eyes and long wavy dark brown hair, the white hidden beautifully at the nape of her neck beneath dark curls. When I first met her when she turned 18 at a pack party I thought she was an outsider because when everyone kept their distance from me, she strutted straight for me looking like some Egyptian goddess, long legs on show, dark complected golden skin complimented by a copper satin cocktail dress, Charismatic as all get out. Her almond shaped glowing eyes eating me as if I was prey. Truthfully, it drove me immediately wild.

Even in the foul mood I was in this morning, my body wanted her to touch me. I got in the elevator and pressed my father's floor.

"Having a rough day are we?" She smirked, "Daddys gift didn't go over well? I told him not to dress her that way... poor thing, not that it would have made a difference if he had listened".

"You should have just told him not to bother" I mumbled keeping my eyes on the elevator buttons.

"You and I both know how that goes... Besides he deserves the lashing you are about to give, he asks my opinion then calls me a b***h for giving it..." she reached out and touched my forearm, my head immediately snapped in her direction making her jump. "Jeez Ivan! Your eyes... you really are pissed!"

I looked away and closed my eyes. When my wolf was engulfed by any intense emotion my eyes didn't just turn dark like other wolves, they would both go dark red, the only time they were the same color was when I was filled with negative emotion or longing.

"Ivan..." she reached back out and held my forearm speaking softly. "Do you need a hug?"

I whimpered like a weak pup and hated myself for it. I felt her arms wrap around me, she was small compared to me, but the warmth of her touch was so comforting. I felt myself relax somewhat.

What f*****g torment, not only an unlovable wolf, but a weak one, going without touch ruined me and there were times I would go months, no conversation, no touch, just pressure, from my father and from the rest of the pack.

"Listen Ivan, if you need me to come around more often all you have to do is ask, I can get around your dad."

I let loose the breath I was holding and looked down at her "It isn't fair to you Cassandra, I will never be yours, and I will never take you as mine. You deserve to find your mate, not dote on someone who is weak and unstable".

She smiled up at me. "You fool, you do know you are an Alpha right? And so long as you are mateless, I will be too. I know that we can never be together completely, but, you give me a thrill" she pinched my side playfully making me crack a smile. I heard the elevator ding and my skin prickled with anger.

She let go of me and nodded. "Give him hell". She winked at me as I turned to exit.