I hated life. I always have. Until that one day, that I saw the most beautiful sight in my whole life.

I was in the woods. It was night. The darkness surrounding me wasn't in the least comforting to me. It was better than being back home though. Home was where all the criticism and hate was. Being in the woods was nice; I was alone. No one at home would dare enter here. They are all cowards. I, however, am not afraid. I've been alone my whole life. I never depended on anyone, never asked for help. No one admired me though. They're all afraid of me. It all started when my parents died. I couldn't go very close to or touch anyone. The only one of them who cared for me died last year. His name was John Kenny.

I was listening to the sounds of night surrounding me; crickets chirping, an owl's hoot, the wind blowing, while I lay back against a tree. Just then I noticed that everything was silent. The most horrible sound I could ever hear- silence. I knew this meant that a predator was near.

I was scared now. If it was some ruthless animal, I could be dead in a minute. Even though my life was really horrible, the only thing worse would be to get eaten alive by some animal.

Then I saw it. The most beautiful sight I had ever seen. The only possible thing to stop me from being afraid is for me to be mesmerized. I was enchanted.

I stood, very slowly, as I watched him in the dim moonlight. He had dark fur, but it was hard to tell a color because it was too dark. His head turned and I froze. His eyes were locked with mine, and I couldn't move. The only thing I could think was that his eyes were beautiful silver.

I silently prayed that he wouldn't come over here and rip me to pieces even though I did not look away. His gaze started pulling me and I followed. I drew closer despite my fear. I drew closer and closer, almost shaking with fear. When I was a few feet from him, he sniffed me. I probably made some face of complete fear. When he pulled his head back, he looked at me some more, but not straight into my eyes. He was studying me. Now this was weird. I started shaking again, out of both fear and the cold.

He noticed, and turned around. When he started to walk away I was surprised. Maybe I don't smell too tasty? I thought. I could move freely now that he walked away. It was those eyes that made me freeze; those eyes that made me go closer to him. His stare was too... intense. It felt like he could see through me; like he could see into my soul or something.

I remembered that his eyes were silver. I don't know why it seemed to stick in my mind. Pushing the thought aside I turned and headed home, carrying in my mind the picture of the wolf in the dim moonlight.


I had reached the edge of the woods. As soon as the wolf was long out of sight, I started running. Now, I was wondering if I should go back. The streets were crowded, tonight was the Night of Saoirse ó na Supernatural. It means "freedom from the supernatural" in Irish. We aren't Irish, but the tradition was started by an Irish man, so they labeled it in his language. Because of all the superstition around orphans, I didn't want to be anywhere near this place. Especially because of my eyes.

I'm aware that my eyes can change color. They change by mood. Like a mood ring or necklace, black would be anger, red would be passion, pink would be love, purple would be calm, green would be nervous, orange would be anxious, yellow would be fear, mixed emotions would be blue, and so on.

My eyes just worsen superstition towards me. I may not be the only orphan, but I am the only one with special eyes. People have seen me change mood. When I was younger I usually felt fear or anxiousness, and whoever was threatening me saw. They then passed the story on. Some wanted to see my eyes, some were afraid. Anybody who did see my eyes, they became afraid of me too. Not one person around here wanted to see my mysterious eyes anymore.

The Wolves Book 1: Call of the WolvesRead this story for FREE!