Hunter was exhausted. A pounding headache throbbed intensely, causing an unpleasant pressure behind his eyeballs. His wolf should've healed him; after all, Lycans rarely experienced human ailments. Yet, apparently, it had other matters to attend to. The pressure inside his skull was becoming unbearable. Hunter felt as though his head might explode any moment.
For hours, he had been meeting and dismissing one petitioner after another. Contacting Sky hadn't deterred him from his duties. With any other wolf, it would probably have worked, and no one would have been surprised. However, he had too strong a sense of responsibility, always putting his desires and needs last. He was a natural leader, mature and far-sighted, unafraid, and his decisions were usually prudent. At least until he decided to meet with Sky.
Resolving the myriad issues of the numerous North American packs wasn't much of a challenge. He proudly held the position entrusted to him by birthright. But today, he simply couldn't focus. He turned away most leaders, asking for time to consider their matters. At one point, he abandoned the pretense of being able to work, delegated the task to Milan, his Beta, and shut himself in his office. For several minutes, he stood by the glass wall, absent-mindedly observing the vast cityscape. Below, people bustled about, hurrying in directions known only to them. From this height, they resembled ants, seemingly losing their rhythm. That was only partially true. Perhaps they ran in different directions, had different goals, and the class divisions were glaringly evident, but ultimately, the residents of Los Angeles formed one organism. Not a very healthy one, full of flaws and pathologies, but still an organism. Hunter sighed. From a Lycan's perspective, human life lasted but a blink of an eye. Maybe that's why there was such a rush. Humans had to live fast because their time was limited.
"You do realize you've thrown everyone into consternation?"
Milan didn't bother knocking and barged into the room unceremoniously. A warning growl rumbled from Hunter's throat. The Beta lowered his head, expressing submission.
"I don't need to explain myself to anyone," Hunter stood with his arms crossed, not deigning to meet his friend's gaze.
Indeed, he didn't need to explain himself. He was the leader of all the Alpha packs in North America. There was no one above him. He inherited the title and privileges in a direct line. In the human world, such a system was called a monarchy. In the world of werewolves, it was known that Hunter was a pureblood Lycan, a primal wolf; the first to descend directly from the Moon Goddess. Werewolves of lower rank liked to refer to their condition as the Moon's Curse. He considered it a gift and a blessing.
"Of course, my friend," Milan agreed. "I just don't know what to tell them."
Hunter sighed, stepping in front of his interlocutor and tilting his head slightly.
"Don't tell them anything," he replied calmly. "I don't need to explain myself to anyone," he repeated.
He had held his position long enough to convince everyone that he wasn't one to be trifled with. He was tough, resolute, uncompromising, rarely wrong, and his decisions were mostly final.
The world of werewolves wasn't a colorful one; it wasn't a bedtime story for well-behaved children. Their population faced extinction. Concealing their existence was becoming increasingly difficult. Human-free territories were rapidly shrinking. Keeping everything in check required a firm hand.
For Hunter, it wasn't a problem because that was his nature. He wasn't swayed by sentiment, didn't let emotions guide him, and didn't allow anyone to influence him. He cared about his subjects, treating everyone equally and justly. Nothing could disturb his judgment, distract him, or divert his attention from what mattered. He had plenty of responsibilities, living mainly through work, but that's what he liked. Moreover, he was an excellent warrior, and when he went to war, he took no prisoners. Killing in cold blood, in the name of a greater good, was natural to him. No werewolf would survive in a world full of humans if they didn't follow their wild instincts.
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Big Bad Wolf (Age of Wolves I)
Werewolf"I won't repeat myself. You're truly one of a kind, Sky. You have no idea how much. That's got to be sufficient," he said firmly. She looked at him, afraid to even twitch. She sensed that the slightest movement on her part could set him off. The com...
