Daughter of the oath

In a world of werewolves, vampires, Nephilim, fae and other mystical creatures, Ophelia is a young werewolf who’s never fitted in with any tribe and their rules. Always being looked down on by other pack members for her reckless attitude and inability to stay in her lane, Ophelia never expected to find a mate – let alone be accepted by one, till one day, everything changed. But this wasn’t going to be a love story she’ll play a part in. Follow Ophelia on her journey as she chooses her own path. . . . . . Werewolves are creatures of habit and tradition, their whole life is set out in a particular set of patterns and rules. You bow down to the Alpha for he’s your ruler, you fear him and his ferocious minions and you certainly don’t dare to provoke let alone challenge any of them. Sure, tradition allows some werewolves to challenge other wolves for their title, but it is unheard of for a mere omega to do so. There was a lot that came into play when one wolf challenged another and, if you were sane, you wouldn’t dare to challenge for a status as a female – no, that wasn’t a females job now, was it? A she-wolf’s job is to spend her life waiting for her mate, then once she has one, she must turn into a good ol’ breeding machine, popping out pups left right and centre, all while patiently waiting for her mate to come back from his fulfilling careers and ranks. That was the reality of living in a pack. Every pack member knew that failure to follow these rules would lead to a life of banishment as a rogue or sometimes even immediate, public execution. So why was I, Ophelia Ares Bathsheba - a good-for-nothing, low ranked she-wolf, preparing to challenge the Gamma of the pack for his position? Some would say I have a death wish, others would claim that I lost my marbles. But honestly? I’m just fed up of all the rules, and traditions, and I’ll be damned if I spend another year submitting to any of this. It’s about time someone changed something at last. Once I become the Gamma I will pave a path for future females to compete for ranked positions in the pack. With one simple move I will be building a new future, a new beginning. As I stood in my makeshift training room, looking at the wreckage I left behind – I couldn’t help but feel positive about the future. “Did you really have to break everything again?” I heard a voice coming from the doorway behind me. “Like, you do realise we have to fix everything every time”. I turned around with a smirk on my face, Steve - my best (and probably only) friend was stood leaning against the doorway with an exaggerated scowl on his face, tossing his sandy blond hair out of his deep brown eyes, a mockingly judgemental look on his face. “If everything in this room isn’t smashed to pieces when I leave, I didn’t train hard enough” I answer back, raising my head and deepening my smirk. “Besides, if things go to plan, I will never need to sneak around to train again.” The thought of training with other wolves entered my mind. The image contrasted my reality so severely, I couldn’t help but to feel my confidence somewhat waver. “I’ve got to say, for a midget you’re pretty feisty” Steve teased, clearly noticing my mood shift. I raised an eyebrow and let out a short chuckle “that’s big words coming form someone that’s only 5’7. Isn’t that below average even for a human?” “Yes I suppose, but 5’7 is still 3 inches taller than your short self” he said, before quickly adding “which is pretty tiny – especially for a wolf!” I laughed along with him as I shook my head, unable to think of a come back. I turned back around to pick up my bag, before taking a deep breath in an attempt to mentally prepare myself for today’s challenge. While I was trying to put a brave face on, my stomach was churning with fear of what’s to come. I begun training as soon as I turned 10, considering she-wolves weren’t allowed to use the Pack’s training grounds it wasn’t easy. I have been lucky enough to run into a rogue to train me for the first few years, before he was murdered by the pack's warriors for trespassing on our land. From then on I used whatever I could to teach myself, some human coaches teaching me various martial arts, sometimes just using YouTube videos, other times provoking rogue wolves into starting a fight so that I could practice. “Are you ok” Steve asked, interrupting my train of thought. “You sure you’re ready for this?” After so many years of training for this precise moment, was I truly ready? Did I really feel I could pass this challenge? Did I have all the necessary skills? A wicked grin spread across my face “I’ve never been more ready” And while I felt my words convinced my friend, I myself was not convinced. *** I walked back through the woods towards my packs territory. I was so deeply immersed in my training I didn’t notice so much time passed that nightfall engulfed the town and nearby forest. There was always something about darkness that made me feel at home, always much safer being able to hide in the shadows. But this was no time to revel in my natural habitat, as much as I’d love to opt for a hunting trip, my wolf was craving another type of blood sport. I could see lights up ahead, letting me know that I was closer to my pack’s territory. Thankfully my cabin was right at the edge of the woods, far away from all other pack members. It made it easier to slip in undetected and prepare for the fight still ahead of me. I walked through the door and scanned the emptiness around me, always remaining vigilant even in my own home. I stalked directly into my room, heading straight to my wardrobe. From way in the back I removed a heavy oak box. I stared at it for a long while, taking in the beautiful carvings that lined the edges of the box, snaking tribal patterns and harsh markings that had the appearance of a language, long lost to time. No matter how many books I read I could never figure out what each marking meant, all I managed to find out is that the language etched into the wood was ancient, yet somehow I always felt as if the markings called to me with a sense of familiarity I could never quite place. I traced my finger against each grove and ridge, pulling away when a memory begun to flood my mind . I could clearly remember the day I received the box 3 years ago, having only once briefly glanced at its contents, my hands were itching to finally explore what the box hid within. "You’re destined for great things, my dear. I just wish I could be by your side through it all" My foster mum’s words rang out clearly in my head, the house sure has been quieter since she passed away. She was the only wolf that ever believed in me and cared about me, when a she-wolf from another pack abandoned me in the forest as a baby, the pack voted for me to be left to die. But not her, not Asteria. The pack allowed her to keep me alive as long as she took all responsibility of me. In the end I returned the favour by caring for her in her last days as she did for me in my first, her son (the packs current delta) abandoned her when she was too old to look after herself, I owed everything to her. She truly believed in me and her words rang in my head frequently “You’re yet to find out the power that hides within”. I shook my head, trying to pull myself back into the present moment. This is the first step towards a better tomorrow, there’s no time to dwell on what once was. I looked back down at the box, took a deep breath and opened it. I carefully removed each item and just as carefully laid it out on my bed. I put the box down on the floor and stared at the items before me - It was battle gear. But not just any battle gear, it was made from Azarium, the strongest material known in all realms. Only Angels and the Nephilim knew how to get hold of and manipulate this powerful element, in the right hands it could be turned into anything from attire to weapons, each item more durable and powerful than anything known in this realm. Before me lay a reinforced, black, leather like body suit, I picked it up taking great care to put it on. It fitted perfectly and contrasted against my lightly sun kissed skin beautifully, as I looked in the mirror I paid careful attention to how the material perfectly accentuated my curves and toned muscles, from my muscular calves and thighs, to my wide hips, adorned with a lacing pattern around my much smaller waist. The top supported my rounded breasts perfectly, with the deep plunge, heart shape neckline revealing more than I would normally be comfortable with, but at least the long gloves that came with the outfit covered my scarred arms. I took another admiring look in the mirror, I may not have the stunning slim physique that the other she-wolves in the pack had but damn did I feel good in this – and what better way to intimidate an opponent than confidently strutting around in such a power outfit? I turned away from the mirror pulling the matching thick-soled boots on, feeling them tighten around my calves as I pulled at the laces. From the array of weapons I picked up 2 small, curved, black blades – connected together by a slivery chain, I popped each blade into a thigh holster, hooking the chain in the back of the laced pattern on my waist – the chain magnetizing as if my outfit recognized my intentions. I opted to leave the rest of the weapons behind as discretion was key in order to ensure I don’t get stopped by guards before even getting to my mission. As I put the rest of the weapons away I couldn’t help noticing that all of them were etched with the same symbols as the box. I took one last glance in the mirror to quickly tie up my silvery-white hair into a bun to prevent my long locks from getting in the way of battle. I looked in my stormy grey eyes, noting the dark circles beginning to reveal the recent sleepless nights, I mumbled my last few words of motivation and headed straight for the door.