The Pack Doctor

01 [Of Alpha Ceremonies and Lycan History]

    The smell of barbecued meat and burning logs and twigs let me know of the ceremony that was about to begin a small distance from my cabin, and I was on the verge of losing it, exasperation drawing me to snap the pencil in my trembling hands. In no way was I nervous or excited; impatient and desperate were better words, for my wolf could wait no longer.

Around this time, my birthday had come once again on October 31, and it was the first day of November that followed. Everyone had treated Halloween like it was that day, and not the day I was born, because today is when the real celebration would begin. My mother had told me of what it was like when she had become Alpha, the nervousness that came along, the sweat dampening her palms, the slight quickening of her heart, but the only thing I felt was an intense and brutal longing for what was about to be mine: Quirentine Pack.

Of course I was a lot different than her. I exceeded in shining a light on my dad's DNA, though I couldn't help it. I felt more in my comfort zone when I let my power leak from my pores, rather than concealing it for the greater good of others like my mother would do. Like my dad, a respected Sergeant before he met my mom, I was more in tune with my wolf side, more feral, more instinctual. And that's why I was receiving my title early.

There was only one way to truly become an Alpha. It had nothing to do with blood lines or whom you were bitten by. Me being the daughter of Dana Lesley had nothing to do with it. Everyone in the pack knew it, and my mother knew it too.

I have finally become stronger than her.

To become an Alpha, you have to be stronger than one, more powerful, more smart. My mother had challenged my grandfather for his title, because he refused to give it to his daughter. He wanted to wait for his son, Vance to earn the title, to get smart enough to run the pack. He didn't believe in female Alphas.

He lost.

Of course my uncle could have challenged his sister when he was ready, but in the end, he never really was ready. He found his Affinity for treasure and later went on to become our source of income, taking his adventurous mate, Savanna with him. I saw Uncle Vance every once in a while, (he being the source to my ancient fang and claw collection that I proudly let sit in a jar on my bedroom desk), and I was always struck with surprise when I noticed his bold resemblance to his dad.

I wouldn't have to challenge my mother for the title. She could feel the power I had over her. She was smart. And she was proud. She had prepared me for the day in any ways that she could, but I knew that it was up to me to trust my instincts and lead my pack through another generation, and I planned to do so nobly like she did.

If Papa would just come retrieve me already.

I felt like time was deliberately slowing by the second, stretching itself to draw out the tension. I broke another pencil, trying to write my Alpha Will for the ceremony, convinced that I would never find just what to say. I didn't want to think of who or what I could possibly love enough that it would make up my Will, but I also wanted to fill the empty space.

Writing a Will was important for any Alpha as immediate danger would surface. Everyone wanted power. Everyone wanted to be respected. With training from Mama, I have come to realize that being respected doesn't make an Alpha, that caring for your pack and doing anything for them was what made a leader. But she couldn't sway me on the power part. Truly, without power, an Alpha wouldn't be an Alpha, but a wolf with a pack. He may as well be a pack member, too if he didn't feel the blood in his veins, humming louder than the rest.

With a blank paper, and a leisurely sigh, I snapped another pencil.

"Damnit," I cursed, walking around the counter (that took up too much space) to rummage through drawers, trying to find a pen. Pencils weren't going to cut it, I had recognized after the twenty-eighth one had folded under pressure.