Being The She Wolf

Being the She Wolf

 

“And then in the middle of the battlefield, the Goddess Machiekov gathered all her spirit, and joined forces with the God Karag. Then something momentous happened, something that would change our kind forever. A union developed, and between Machiekov and Karag a prophecy was created. Someday in the future, their descendants would meet and protect our kind for the good of all, just like they had. And to fifteen years ago, we were shrouded in mystery, until our She Wolf was born. She is the Goddess’s chosen one, the one who shall protect and care for us all with Karag’s chosen male by her side, until she meets her mate, her soul mate, she is to be guarded……”

The elder’s words rang in my mind, setting off ripples. I was the chosen one, the one who had to protect all those that had gathered around that campfire last night. The respect that had shone from the eyes of those listening was enchanting. The respect that they felt for a girl less than half their age, who couldn’t even drive legally yet.

And here the famous She Wolf was, in school trying to learn how verbs are conjugated. But I liked it at school, nobody except our pack knew who I was, what I had to do someday. And that was how I preferred it.

I was a celebrity in a way I suppose; being Machiekov’s Chosen One was a big deal. My father flaunted it, always telling others who I was. I was the pride of the Dian Uasul pack, to the point where I was listened to more than the Alpha. Which I hate.

The Alpha was my brother, my obnoxious yet endearing brother.

Darcy was the youngest Alpha in Ireland, which was also quite a big thing. Father was pleased, of course, his son was the youngest Alpha, his daughter the Chosen One of Machiekov.

Being Alpha was trash next to being me, and Darcy knew it.

Hey, we never said being my brother was easy.

The thoughts of my dysfunctional family were ripped to shreds by the withered face bobbing in front of my desk agitatedly. Mr Murphy waved my only half-completed sheet of verbs in my face, his eyes showing how pissed off he was right now.

“Aednat, please do tell me why you think you’re excused from my class?” He snapped, crossing his arms with a sullen huff.

I met him with a blank stare, not really knowing why I had been staring into space vacantly. I quite enjoyed Irish, and I had to use it every day. Names in our pack told us something about the person, their personality, where they came from.

“There you go again! Wake up and smell the coffee!” Mr Murphy snapped, before marching back to the front of the classroom.

What kind of a phrase was wake up and smell the coffee? Coffee had nothing to do with Irish verb worksheets.

I released a sudden snicker which I thought was quiet, but it seemed that it wasn’t. Everyone turned around to glare at me accusingly.

“Detention, Aednat! I expect you to be in that hall on Wednesday afternoon, no excuses.” Mr Murphy hollered, snapping the piece of chalk he had been grasping with his chubby fingers.

Geez, he needs a nice, relaxing massage.

I bobbed my head silently; I’d get out of it somehow. I always did. Life as the Chosen One wasn’t too bad sometimes. Sure, I’d have to save the lives of more wolves than I could count, but I didn’t have to do detention.

I jumped slightly in my seat when the bell rang, before nearly sprinting out of the classroom. Man, Mr Murphy was a pain in my rump. At least he pronounced my name right though, and didn’t give homework. Too bad he had a vendetta against my dreaming in class.