Prologue- The Laughing Stock

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Malcomb's pov
(age 19, six months before he joins Ambersy pack)

The biggest problem with being smarter than everyone around you, is that they don't understand a word you say. Even after explaining it several times.

One would think that all the studying I had done in genetics would be paying off by now. Of course trying to explain biology and DNA to a group of individuals that were one neuron short of a synapse was proving to be difficult.

Or if I were to put it into their terms, A few bricks short a load, or, all foam no beer. You get my point. The idiots that just laughed me out of the meeting room didn't, but one day they'd come to regret this move.

I'm not sure why I expected a different result though. Ever since my grandfather and great grandfather were made the laughing stock of this pack, it's pretty much rolled down hill, to us. My father either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, but it's hard to do either when you go through life with your head down and trying not to attract attention.

My older brother on the other hand, was always trying to prove himself to Alpha Ryker. He has dedicated his entire life since he was fourteen to proving that he had value. He trained non-stop, and had earned himself a top postion with the pack warriors. The only other time he puts this much effort into anything, is when he's trying to rub my nose in his accomplishments.

He had the same mind set that my grandfather did, and that was that muscle outranked brain every time. Man, I was going to love proving them wrong. But in order to do that, I needed more time and money in the lab to do experiments with. Things like altering genes required a lot of trial and error, and so far, I was still in the error stage.

I had been able to pinpoint the exact genetic make up of our wolf, and the specific genes that came along with our other side. However, I still needed to learn how it was possible for both the wolf and human to exsist as one, and how to manipulate the wolf gene into doing what I wanted. Theoretically I should be able to eliminate any weakness we had, henceforth making us stronger. And if I could do that, we'd have the upper hand in the war that my grandfather waged against the packs to the north of us.

Alpha Ryker however did not see my vision when I presented him with all the data I had up to this point, and told me that altering our genetic make up was impossible. He went on to say that even if it were possible, it was just plain wrong and could end up back firing in my face.

Not only did he not agree to give me more funding for my project and more time in the lab, he went and took away my lab privilages saying I was a danger to myself and to the pack as well. He not so subltly indicated that I was going mad just like my ancestors did. That has been a huge prospective from the pack elders, that our family had a history of mental illness, one that has been passed down from generation to generation.

My great grandfather was certainly not mentally ill, he lost his Alpha title in what I hear was an unfair match that was rigged against him. My grandfather then had to prove his worth to the pack, and the more he tried to give the previous Alpha what he desired the more crazy he made himself look.

Alpha Rykers father wanted control of the land, and ultimately the wolves to the north, and allowed my grandfather to try to gain that for him. The problem with my grandfather, was that he went about this task assuming that muscle would be enough to do the trick. And if the gruesome way in which he was murdered didn't spell out how untrue that was, then I guess nothing would.

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