Turned

Chapter 1

Things haven't been the same ever since my brother was murdered. Usually, murder was something people would get over time, but in my case, I don't think that would happen. My brother was murdered for something I couldn't control. My alpha killed him because he knew I was a wolf, and again it wasn't my brother's fault nor mine for him knowing. My brother was simply there when I was scratched.

My first memory was at the age of five, and I was scratched by a werewolf. My brother, was eleven years old, saw it all happen, but kept it a secret. Thankfully, where I lived there was a pack there willing to take me in. They taught me everything I needed to know. They even taught me how to mask my scent, which was really helpful now that I ran away.

I was seventeen when I arrived home and found my brother dead, and saw my alpha's mark. I confronted my alpha, and he told me he killed him for knowing I'm a wolf. Since then, I've been running from them and used my skill of masking my scent to help hide me from other wolves. I couldn't risk them finding me and sending me back to my old pack.

It's been two months since they were close to finding me in the last area I hid in. I was now hiding in a cave behind a waterfall, and I don't know how long it's been. I only go out when I need to run, and when I need to go buy food for myself. When I ran away, I packed all of my clothes and left a note apologizing to my parents, but I couldn't leave anything about my future whereabouts.

The light shined through the waterfall and I knew it was now time for me to go out and buy some food. I lifted my head up and began to sniff the air. There was no one around, which meant it was safe to leave the cave.

I stepped out of the cave and began my stroll to the market. I was about to leave the market with my two bags filled with food when two well-built boys my age stepped in front of me and held their hands up to stop me. I stopped and examined both of the boys. The one on my right had blonde hair with brown eyes, whereas on my left he had chestnut hair and grey eyes. Both of the boys were light skinned, but there was one thing that was noticeable about them. Their scent. Both of them were werewolves.

The blonde said, "Hello miss, I haven't seen you around here."

I stepped around them and said, "Well that's a shame, I've been here for two months and you just noticed me." Truth is no one has seen me here, or at least if they did, they won't have any recollection of it. People who came and talked to me out in public, I would erase their memory of the last few moments we met, and go our separate ways.

Unfortunately, as I began walking away from them, they walked alongside me. The chestnut hair asked, "Are you at least going to start school tomorrow? I know my sister would love to be friends with another lovely brunette like yourself," saying the last part while he twirled a piece of my hair.

School, the one thing I haven't thought about since I ran away. After moving one of the bags filled with food to my other hand, I slapped his hand away from my strand of hair. I placed the bag back in my hand, when my wolf suggested, "Allison, maybe we should go to school."

I snapped, "Azalea do you have a death wish or something? We can not go to school. He'll find us faster."

"Not if we hide under an alias," she sang, "come on, we could just change your last name. Don't you hate feeling so lonely?"

Ever since I ran away, I never let myself get close to anyone. I was too afraid of losing someone, as I lost my brother. Thankfully I had Azalea. That is what is great about being a wolf, you're not as lonely as you think you are. The problem with having a wolf is you can't see them unless you shift and look in a mirror. Your wolf may be there to constantly annoy you and guide you to do things, but it isn't like having a friend. A friend that could constantly bug you until you talk, instead of your wolf who could constantly bug you until you shut them out of your mind. A friend is someone you could have a physical connection with, someone you can have a shoulder to cry on. Azalea was right, deep down I was craving for friends. I looked up at the two boys who were now eyeing me suspiciously. Great, they probably think I'm a psycho, I thought.