The Runt and the Moon

"My old classmate, Elias Knox, wants to pair with 'Runt,'" Matty, 23, tells my father as the family sits around the wooden dining room table.

Jordan, 12, carves his knife into the table instead of the steak Momma and I made tonight. Luis and Noah, 8 and 10, fight over who will have the last baked potato.

"He came up to me at the plant today," Matty says, settling back. "I've been working with him pretty regularly since they put me on second shift."

"Elias says 'Runt' might be a good fit for him. He's just about ready to settle down, y'know? Done with the chasing. Wants to start his den now that he's off the line and running a crew on the floor."

Momma's eyes flash to me. They are wise and filled with a knowing, empathetic look.

She says, "I'm sorry, Liana. But what can I do?" without having to say it.

"...Look, I'm not saying Elias isn't dumb as a box of hammers--and he's built like a damn fridge," Matty says, shrugging. "But he'll treat Runt right. He's solid where it counts."

Matty's eyes accidentally flash to my face. I know he immediately regrets it because he quickly looks away and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

My father continues to chew his steak, made special by my mother. He doesn't speak yet.

So my mind does it for him.

Why? Why does Matty even think it's appropriate to bring up the problem of my pairing in the first place? Sure, I'm twenty-six and still unpaired, but...

"What do you think, Runt?" my father asks with his mouth full.

Momma places her hand on her head and shakes it in exasperation.

"Idiot!" I hear her saying in my mind.

Out of all the responses, he chooses this one? To ask me what I think?

I hesitate. My eyes flash back to Matty, who has decided to stare at the table instead.

"I don't know," I admit. "I've never given Elias Knox much thought."

Much thought beyond Matty's description of him as stupid and burly being 100% correct, that is.

My father swallows his bite of steak, then grabs his beer can and takes a long drink. After he finishes, he burps loudly. In the corner of my eye, I see my mother roll her eyes and make another hand motion to herself.

"I hate when you do this! Just talk to your children!" I hear her words without her saying anything.

Poppa grunts. "Surprised he's even looking at Runt. I guess he doesn't give a damn." He pauses, scratches his chin. "Might be the best thing, honestly."

I don't know what to say. So I don't say anything. Like always.

Momma's eyes slice into Poppa. A warning. But her words don't reach him because she doesn't say anything either. Like always.

"You're sitting around waiting on some forced pairing that isn't happening," Poppa says, shaking his head. "I gave you time. Time's up."

He points a finger. "The only time you have now is to get your ass out of this den and start your own."

He snorts. "You're the runt of the pack. Weak genes. Always sick, always falling behind the others. You're not very bright, either. Otherwise your Momma and I could have sent you off to school. But you're quiet. You mind. You don't talk back. That counts for something."

He leans back, chuckling dryly. "Someone out there's got to be desperate enough. Looks like Elias pulled the short straw."

I look over at Momma.

I feel the tears in my eyes without warning.

"Don't, Liana," her knotted eyebrows say without her opening her mouth.

But I can't. I run away from the table.

xxxxxxxx

The night air is thick with the damp smell of creek water and the sharp bite of pine. It fills my lungs, cold and heavy. Mud squishes between my toes as I run, the soggy ground pulling at my feet with every step. Branches snap against my arms, slick with dew, and briars tug at my shirt as I tear through the dark woods behind the house.

I morph. My body shifts, bones creaking and limbs reshaping, and my clothes slip off like dead weight. I never worry about tearing anything--there's barely enough of me to stretch the fabric. I'm the smallest in the whole pack, damn near the same size in fur as I am on two legs. Shifting doesn't feel much like a transformation for me.

Out of all the nights in my life, this has to be the worst.

Poppa's words echo in my head. Every one of them true. But that doesn't make them hurt any less.

I'm the runt of the pack. Always have been.

Too small, too slow, too quiet. Never quite one of them.

I've spent most of my life on the edges--just close enough to be seen, never close enough to belong.

The other weregirls? They make sure I remember where I stand.

They push, they snap, they laugh behind my back.

Even the normie girls take their shots.

Guess someone's gotta be the omega.

Then there's the pressure--pairing.

By twenty-six, everyone my age has settled down, started dens, and made lives.

Everyone but me.

Elias Knox is three years younger. Matty's age.

I should feel lucky he's even looking at me.

Any other omega would take it without question--hell, they'd be grateful.

But deep down, I know the truth.

Because Elias has a mean streak.

And what if we have pups? What if some of our children inherit my weaker traits while others take after his more aggressive nature?

Will I have to watch my own children being bullied by their siblings and their father?

Or even worse, will I become the one being bullied by my own children--children who carry stronger, more dominant genes than I do?

Will I end up like my mother?

She stopped speaking so long ago--simply because she endured everything in silence.

She put up with so much that now, I don't even remember what her voice sounds like.

xxxxxxxxxx

I would be content to stay at home, to help my mother care for my younger siblings, and to keep working at the diner--cooking meals and waiting tables. But my father has made it clear he's ready to cut me loose.

Because, in his eyes, I'm a loser.

A failure.

A freak of nature.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should have never been born at all.

Or at least, if I was never meant to survive past infancy.

From the moment I took my first breath, I've been sickly--caught colds and flus that never seem to let up, as if my body is always betraying me.

And yet, somehow, I'm still here.

It feels like the invisible force that governs us is only keeping me alive, not out of kindness, but for its own cruel amusement.

What is the point of being born if all I am meant for is to bear the weight of the pack's cruelty?

xxxxxxxxx

My eyes snap upward, locked on the glowing moon. I come to a halt, breath heavy in the cool night air, and stare.

The old pack legends say the moon is our god--the one who rules over us all. The moon is our creator, the force that transformed our ancestors into wolves.

I bare my teeth in a low snarl, bitterness rising inside me.

If I had the strength, I would tear that moon from the sky and swallow it whole.

xxxxxxxxxx

I let out a painful howl--one I'm sure any Were within earshot can hear. It's a message.

A clear, unmistakable warning to those who are listening.

I'm about to do something drastic. Something that will change my life forever. Something that might finally bring me the peace I've been searching for.

If I can't find that peace with my pack...

With my family...

Or in my own pairing...

In my own den...

And since I cannot destroy the god that gave me this fate...

And if I choose to accept this god, that means I cannot run from what's been laid before me...

Then I will Disperse.

Disperse from this life entirely.

XxxxX

It is the only way.

I shift back into my human form as I stare up at the moon. I watch my naked body slowly reveal itself--from fur to skin, and from downward paws to upright limbs.

I kneel in the soggy earth. Tears blur my vision. I bow my head toward the moon... toward God... and sob.

Why did you make me like this?

Why did you make me so weak?

Why am I so different?

These are the things I want to scream. But, much like my mother, I can't find my voice.

I sniffle.

Am I really going to do this?

I know how.

I've felt it many times before--the want to Disperse.

The first time I almost did it, I was a teenager. The weregirls at school had made me steal a bunch of cookies from the cafeteria for them. They said it was for the pack, and that if I really was a true werebitch, I'd do it for my sisters.

So, I did it.

I brought them the cookies. They didn't even thank me. Just took them and walked off. The funniest part was I didn't get one cookie because there was an odd number and the packgirls took them all. When the news got out that someone had stolen them, I felt so ashamed I ratted myself out. I got sent home from school for two weeks, and Poppa had to pay back the cost of the food I stole.

He was so mad at me, I didn't get any peace while I was home. Momma tried her best to keep me out of his way when he came home from work. But I still took the brunt of his verbal lashings.

One night, much like tonight, I ran away from the house because I couldn't take his words anymore. I went out to the woods, and I felt this deep sorrow stirring in my chest. And suddenly, a wish--

A wish to be free from this pack. From my family. Free from this life as a Were.

That's the first time I felt the chord inside me. I almost snapped it. It was right there, offering itself to me: Freedom.

But I thought about Momma. She needed me then to help with the younger ones. And I thought about being a Were. I love being a Were, even though I'm the runt of the pack.

What life would I have as a Normie? Just a regular girl. No morphing. No Were. I couldn't imagine it.

But tonight is different. I'm twenty-six now, not sixteen. My younger siblings are old enough that Momma doesn't need my help anymore. And I've had more than enough amazing memories morphing and being a Were for me to want to give it up.

I close my eyes. My heart races. I feel the chord--that same chord from long ago--materialize in my chest.

This is it.

If I break it--

I'm free.

That's when I hear the snap of a twig.

I whirl my head around.

Someone's in the woods with me.

I stand and move a little to see if I can make out who it is.

"Come on out!" I call.

But there's no answer.

I walk a little further.

"Don't make me morph to find you!" I say, sure it's another Were. No one else could make it this far into the woods without being some kind of animal.

Animal.

That's when cold fear runs through me.

Maybe it's not a Were. Maybe I should morph just to be safe, in case I have to fight or run.

Then I see a form reveal itself.

Or rather...

Hisself.

Matty.

I watch as my brother comes out of the woods.

He's naked just like me.

So, I know he morphed and followed me here.

"What are you doing here?" I say, my tone sharp and accusing. "Shouldn't you be discussing my pairing some more with Pop?"

I turn my back to him.

I can't stand to look at him.

I feel... betrayed.

Matty and I grew up close--more like twins than three years apart. So, his sudden interest in bringing up my pairing today at dinner felt like a knife in the heart. Especially since I know he knows how sensitive this is for me.

"Runt," I hear Matty say, "I was only trying to help you out. You have to believe me."

I say nothing. Instead, I fold my arms and stare up at the moon.

I feel Matty come up behind me. He's staring at my back.

"I overheard Pop telling Momma he was going to kick you out. Said you're getting too old for the den. I didn't want you worrying about bills or anything, so I thought Elias' offer was a good option for you," Matty continues. "Trust me, I don't like the idea of you being with him any more than you do."

I still don't turn around.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me anymore," I say quietly. "Because I'm going to Disperse anyway."

"What?!" Matty exclaims.

I keep staring at the moon.

"Liana," Matty says, using my real name, "Listen to me. Don't Disperse. Please. I can't lose you like this. I don't want you pairing with Elias, but I don't have enough money yet to provide for you if you get kicked out. And I don't want to see you out there struggling--because I know Pop won't help. He'll just say it's up to you to take care of yourself."

"Just wait until I get off the line and into a trade. I'll make more money, and I'll make sure you're taken care of."

His voice is pleading. Suddenly, I feel bad for making my brother so worried. He's thought more about my safety and future than I have.

My heart softens, and I turn my head a little to finally look at him.

"You mean it?" I whisper. "Would you really do that for me?"

Matty steps up behind me and wraps his arms around me. I lean into him and his strong, lean body.

"I'm going to protect you, Runt," he whispers.

Tears fall from my eyes at those words.

I lay my head on his chest as he holds me close.

Then I feel his lips press against my forehead.

I love Matty so much.

I thought he was against me tonight, but it turns out he--and Momma--are the ones in my corner when it comes to Poppa.

I look up at him and give him a beaming smile.

He looks down at me and...

Presses his lips to mine.

I am in shock at first. Immediately I break away from his hold.

What was that?

Did my brother just kiss me on the lips?

Matty takes in my reaction.

I see the immediate wash of shame in his eyes.

"Liana! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-," He says.

But that's when I notice his naked body.

My eyes flash downward.

He is incredibly aroused.

What is this?

What is going on?

My heart thumps inside my chest.

Matty doesn't say anything more.

Instead his hands go to cover his erection.

He keeps his eyes downward.

There is nothing to say.

This is too shameful.

How could he kiss me?

How could he have an erection for his own sister?

My head is spinning.

This can't be real.

That's when I surprise myself.

I step forward, rise up on my tiptoes, and kiss him on the lips.

It's quick. Hesitant.

But the moment I do it, it feels right--

like a thousand lightning bugs glowing in the dark.

Beautiful. Cinematic.

I step back, shy, and look at him.

Matty just stares at me, the same kind of shock I felt moments ago in his eyes.

But then they soften.

He leans down and kisses me again.

And this time, I let him.

His mouth meets mine, and we wrap our arms around each other. I feel the wiry strength of his muscles holding me close. His erection presses against me. And my breasts and body are held tightly to his chest.

We move to the ground and I fall on top of him. I kiss his face everywhere. Then...

To his body.

I leave small kisses on his chest and then down towards his pelvis area. I don't know what is taking possession of me. Only that I feel an animalistic calling stirring inside of me.

But mainly between my legs. The chord from earlier has been replaced with an insatiable desire dripping from my crotch and running it's way to my belly.

An unmistakable desire to mate.

Matty stares down at me in a daze and wonderment as I kiss along his hips and towards his erection. He tries to cover it again. But I growl and slap away his hands. To which he doesn't reply. He just looks down at me in amazement. He understands the wordlessness of my desire. And he doesn't try to fight me anymore.

I look down at his erection. My hair falls along the length of his legs as I take him in my hand and lightly lay kisses on the tip, on the side, and then the other side.

I hear Matty give a sharp gasp when I do, and his body goes limp into the earth. Under the moon, I begin to kiss his penis and caress it in my hands gently. Which elicits deep moans from Matty as I do.

I lay one final, long kiss on the head of his penis before I am done. I crawl up and hover over Matty, my face just inches from his. I kiss his lips. His eyes are closed, but they flutter open when I kiss him again.

"Liana, we can't tell anyone about this," He whispers.

I nod my head.

"I know," I say.

"We have to come up with a plan. If you're willing to wait, I can save up enough to help you move out, into your own place," he says.

I smile at him.

"What about Elias?" I ask.

His eyes go dark.

"That's not a plan anymore," he says--and before I can say a word, he flips me onto my stomach.

I feel his body on top of mine.

His erection pressing against me...strong and lustful.

His face is in my hair.

"Liana, you're mine," he whispers. "I own you."

I shiver--but not from the cold.

I shiver because, for the first time, I feel like I finally belong to something.

With someone.

And before I can say anything, I feel my brother enter me.

It hurts.

A lot.

I cry out in pain.

But I feel Matty.

He whispers to me, telling me it's going to be okay.

At first, I don't believe him.

And I wonder why I was so desperate at first to mate.

But then...

It does start to feel ok.

And I realize why again.

My moans make a concert in the night air.

I look up at the sky and see the Moon watching us--our God.

For a moment, I wonder if this is a sin.

But when I feel Matty pull out of me and hear him cry out how much he loves me as he cums...

I realize that I don't care.

Why should I?

I was just on the brink of Dispersing anyway.

I feel euphoric as Matty lays on top of me.

He is wasted and tired from fulfilling himself.

I feel useful.

Like I did my duty.

A good werebitch.

"I'm going to take care of everything," Matty whispers to me again that night under the moon--on what was supposed to be one of the worst nights of my life...now turned into something entirely different.

"I love you, Liana."

xxxxxxxx

Three years later, I stand in the middle of my very own kitchen.

In my arms is my daughter, born just recently.

Momma is here.

She came to the city to help me out.

Momma doesn't ask many questions--just has her own quiet way of talking, like always.

When I told her I was pregnant, she seemed happy for me. I said the father was a Normie who didn't want anything to do with me or the baby. And she consoled me. Comforted me.

Matty lives here in the city too. He's the only one who visits every single day and sleeps here when our family isn't around.

We waited through the first few breeding seasons because we didn't know if having pups was even possible for us. And honestly, part of us was scared to try--scared of what our genes might mean for a child. But in the end, we decided to risk everything and see for ourselves, despite it all.

And it happened for us on the very first try.

We both knew--quietly, without saying a word--what that meant. Our daughter isn't just a product of our love, or a miracle baby. She's the solidification of our union.

So far, there are no signs of my runt or omega genetics in her. And when I realize that, I can't help but look at Matty and fall in love with him all over again. Because he's the reason our baby girl will have a better life than I ever did.

And not just because of how hard Matty works to provide for us here in the city--this life we've built that's pack-adjacent. Not Dispersed, but not fully bound either. It's the perfect kind of life for someone like me to live as an Omega.

But more than that, it's the kind of life where our daughter will grow up with a father who shows his love with gentleness, with kindness in his voice, and patience in his hands.

Speaking of our father--and the rest of the family...

Our younger brothers are either in high school now or about to start middle school. They come with Momma to visit when they can.

Poppa is the only one too good to make the trip. Neither Matty nor I seem to mind.