Chapter 1: I'm normal. Definitely
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Let me start this by saying: I'm not a freak.
Really. I'm not. I'm a normal, middle class, university educated woman. Do I also shift into a giant dog every full moon? Yes.
But aside from turning furry once a month, I am completely normal.
Mostly.
Kind of.
You see, I've been living life in a series of mediocre events. Even my infection with the werewolf virus was mediocre. I accidentally got a needle-stick injury at work.
I used to be a nurse before I was a furry, werewolf-turning beast. But once you become infected with the werewolf virus and people find out, they don't want you working at a hospital. You know, just incase you infect them too. Which is fair enough. But anyway, I got a needle stick injury from a junkie who also happened to turn furry. And voila: now I also turn furry.
There was no dramatic attack like in the movies. No cool superhero story where I fall into a vat of contaminated dog bones and saliva-covered tennis balls and
wham-bam!!
I turn into SuperWolf.
None of that.
Some dickhead junkie was careless with his needle, and thus, another werewolf was created.
It was freaky at first - scary actually. You know, I lost my job because the hospital found out what had happened. Then my family disowned me, because they didn't really want a werewolf in the family. Which, you know, kind of really sucked.
Then there are other things you don't think about, like food. You got to get food and pretty regularly. Not just a salad will do either, you've got to have a hefty amount of raw protein in there. I feel like I'm eating constantly. Although the upside to being a werewolf is the metabolism. The downside to being a werewolf is also a metabolism. When most people begin starving their stomach rumbles and they get aches and pains. When I begin starving I go crazy and kill a bunch of animals and people. No one tells you about that shit.
Also, no one tells you about the whole wolf clan thing. Luckily for me, I'm not the only werewolf in Melbourne. There's a whole huge clan of us. They're nice, but also annoying. There's this whole hierarchy thing that means I get bossed around by macho alphas like every second day. They have all these weird rules and rituals which are just an absolute headache to even remember.
It's a whole
thing
.
Part of that
thing
is keeping the wolf bloodlines going, reproducing so that alpha werewolves mate with alpha werewolves and produce more alpha werewolves. Which is how I found myself in Brisbane being put out as a candidate for the Clan King there. It's common for wolves to get sent over to different clans to arrange ties and keep the whole alpha breeding lines going.
I'm a white werewolf, which is apparently super special and super rare. The Clan king in Brisbane is also a white werewolf. This means we will have super special children if we mate. So here I am, trying to be all seductive and fancy, but honestly, the king and I just don't click. There's nothing between us. I'm, like, eighty percent certain he feels the same way.
But it doesn't matter. Every single day, until my clan King recalls me to Melbourne, I have to present myself at the Brisbane clan court and try to be all alluring and seductive.
Blergh
.
Today is such an occassion. Well kind of. Today I'm in the clan den, standing in the court room waiting for a meeting to start. The whole pack is here today, which means I get to see a bunch of wolves I haven't actually met before since coming to Brisbane. And I also get to see a bunch of wolves I have
unfortunately
met.
"Hi Lilith" Titus says smugly, looking at me like I'm the missing link, "I was hoping I'd get to see you tonight."
Titus is a werewolf from another clan - I think he's from Sydney. Although I don't really speak to him much on account of the fact that he's pushy, rude and sticks his nose in places it shouldn't be. Like my sex life.
Who
does
that?
I nod, unwilling to meet his gaze because I know he's probably laughing at me. He thinks it's funny that I can't quite connect to Eric, the clan King. He thinks he knows why and often says that he can solve it. Solve it, my ass - Titus' definition of solving things is asking personal questions and trying to get me to go to weird sex clubs with him.
No thank you.
Besides I don't know how some weird wolf is going to help me figure out my romantic life. Because not even I'm sure about what's missing in my relationship or sex life.
I'm of the theory that nothing can solve it. Maybe the way I feel is what it's supposed to feel like. You know, sex is nice, and I have a nice little orgasm. But it's not enough, it's never enough, never quite feels like I've scratched the itch. Same with relationships, they never last, actually they barely take off, because they never feel exactly right.
But who is Titus to say that it's not normal? Do most people feel satisfied in their sex life? I don't think so. See?
I'm normal.