Chapter 1: Red Birthday

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Forewarning!!

This book has dark themes, and is not a cliche werewolf story! Religion (make believe), suicidal thoughts/actions, death, rape/molestation, and bat crap crazy antagonists are present! There will be cheesy moments, and cliche themes, because, after all, this is a werewolf story. But I intend to have plot twists, and other uncommon plots. Updates will be slow (I have a life too, believe it or not), and I probably won't be editing until the first part is completed (which will be quite a while). And one more thing...

THIS BOOK IS COPYRIGHTED! IF I FIND IT IS COPIED BY ANYONE, WATTPAD WILL BE NOTIFIED IMMEDIATELY. I AM A VERY NICE PERSON, BUT I HATE PLAGIARISTS!

Please contact me if you find someone copying my work.

You will be blocked and/or deleted if you:
Promote your own story(ies) in the comment section.
Be disrespectful to other readers' (and my characters') religious/personal beliefs.
Plagiarize my writing. If I find out a reader is copying my works, Wattpad and the proper authorities will be notified immediately. I do not tolerate Plagiarists.
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"Happy Birthday!" The room erupted in cheers.

Adeline froze, her pale blue eyes widened as her pack members flung confetti in her direction. A wide smile spread across Adeline's face as her cheeks grew warm. Finally, after waiting fifteen long years, she was of age.

Shifting age.

"Happy birthday, pumpkin." A heavy, calloused hand was placed on her shoulder. Turning around, Adeline wrapped her arms around her papa. With her cheek squished up against his broad chest, she breathed in his warm, welcoming scent. As wolves, pups could identify their parents by a unique scent that no other could sense, and, to this day, she could still smell that unique scent: cinnamon and something smoky.

"Thank you, papa," Adeline said before pulling away to hug her mom, who was in front of the celebrating pack.

If the Southern Pack knew anything, it'd be how to throw a party. They used anything to throw a party. Oh, did your grandma die? Maybe you'll feel better if we threw a party in her honor. You're dying from a mysterious disease? We'll still throw a party (in your honor of course).

'Yeah, we like to have fun.' Adeline thought dryly. 'And have an excuse to get drunk.'

"Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, and then cake!" Clyde, the pack Beta, practically cheered, a microphone cradled in his hand. "Happy Birthday Addy!"

Then, she was swarmed by pack members.

🐾

Shoveling her food into her mouth, Adeline savored the taste. Only once a year did the Pack Cook serve this dish, and that one time a year was her birthday.

"How are they?" Dillon, Adeline's father, asked.

Not trusting herself to speak with a mouthful of meat and barbecue, she stuck up a sauce covered thumb. Her father's chest rumbled in amusement as Adeline picked up another rib and bit into it. Unlike the West Pack, Adeline's pack was the opposite of formal. Anyone could walk into the dining room in sweatpants and slippers, and nobody would give a flying crap. But the West was different. They were well known for a perfect appearance, a perfect packhouse, and a powerful Oracle. Some may say that the Southern pack was lacking. 'But hey ... we have great food!' Adeline often thought.

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