Chapter 1

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(Damon in picture above ^)

Sweat coats my skin as my muscles scream as sweet pain claims them. I push, I push faster, harder and longer. My breaths come out in short pants as my throat demands the precious liquid of water.

Running is my only escape from the horrors of the past. I bury myself in training, people say cardio is their enemy, well, let's just say cardio and I are BFFs for life. A day without training brings the nightmares breaking down the door. There are days where I can bearly bend my knees, those are the days my arms learn to walk.

People ask what type of life I'm living, well I'm not. I'm simply existing in this miserable shithole. They answer with, why do I bother? Well, I still believe that this shithole can change to maybe ten percent less of a shithole with a bit of love.

Love feels so foreign these days as we are all too worried about getting caught with our side hoes or falling for our partner in a "no strings attached relationship". I lost all beliefs for falling in love a long time ago. My heart is rotting just like the rest of the world. We need to stop fighting each other and learn to love instead, only then can improvements follow and the world can become a loved place.

The running track comes to an end as it falls back to the path leading to the house. Overgrown weeds home themselves to the cracks in the path, leading up to the warm red brick mansion we call the pack house. Yes, pack house. I, like the other two hundred werewolves are part of the Crescent Moon Pack. We home ourselves in the southern outskirts of Western Australia. We live hidden from the humans as we keep our identities secret from the mortal world.

Werewolves are an adaptation of the human race created decades ago, destined to recreate the cruel world into something better, if that's even possible. Our mission was however cut short as mortals were threatened by our existence. They weren't big fans of our genetics on steroids and also changing into a giant puppy wasn't exactly printed on posters and stuck on their walls. They saw us as beasts, abominations so to avoid the awkward tension of them wanting to kill us...
We disappeared.
Now our once  well known existence are just ancient folk tales found in awful movies.

Well there's your history lesson for today, run along kids.

Grand white steps greet me as I jog to the oak wood doors, I brace myself for the shit that's about to go down when I walk through those doors. I take a deep breath, not ready to give up my peaceful loneliness.

"ACE SUMMERS, get your ass in here before I drag you in by your nose hairs!"

Fuck this shit.

"Damon, you ass," I growl out through clenched teeth as I swing open the doors. Damon is the previous head pack warrior who lost his position from not keeping his trap shut.

"Ah, isn't my favourite pack warrior," he grins as he throws his arm over my shoulder. Yep, Damon lost his position to me when I first arrived here at Crescent Moon. He pissed me off so I challenged him in attempts to deflate his ego, some shitheads just don't get the message. I was in a darker place then, more than now. I was angry, angry about what happened to ones I loved. I was fuelled by my blind rage, a danger to myself and others. This resulted with him losing the battle, crowning me as Head pack warrior, after that he became one of my closest friends.

"What do you want?" I glare into his mischief filled brown orbs.

"Oh my, that's no way to speak to the handsome gentlemen that sacrificed his arm to your sweaty back," he cringes, swinging his auburn waves, adding to his dramatic performance. I step back and glare at him, showing my lack of humour at his words.

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