Chapter 01

SYDNEY

Crusted blood stained the walls, mixing with splatters of fresh blood. The stench of death hung in the air, getting worse with each step I took. Rotting flesh, damp earth, and human excrement all bombarded my nose at once. I may not have been a full blooded werewolf, but even us half bloods had an impeccable sense of smell. That was the same with strength and speed.

Victor let out a low growl beside me as we neared our destination. I purposely slowed my steps, allowing him to lace his fingers with mine and give my hand a gentle squeeze. Victor meant so much to me, even as a little girl. With his thick, shoulder length chocolate brown locks and eyes so blue they reminded me of the ocean; he hadn't changed one bit since I was a child. I sort of felt like Bella from Twilight, stuck with creatures that barely aged while I looked ten years older by the next day.

Victor stood tall beside me, over six feet tall actually. He had broad shoulders and a muscular body that filled out his silk black button down a little too perfectly. He left the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing his glorious chest that had a sprinkling of chocolate colored hairs decorating the tanned skin and he had folded his shirt sleeves to his elbows, causing the material to stretch around his mouth-watering biceps. His one hand was tucked into his neatly pressed black dress slacks and his black shoes were so shiny that I could see my reflection off them — well I could have if it weren't so dark in here.

The place was dimly lit. Prisoners such as rogues and traitors of the pack didn't need the luxuries of light and a clean place to stay so the place remained a putrid dump. The woman that gave birth to me had been residing in these cells for a little over eighteen years. I would visit her once in a while, making sure she was alive but that was it. We weren't close and I never wished to have a relationship with her. Maybe once I did, but after that day, I definitely did not.

I stood in front of my mother's cell, hands clasping around the silver bars which made Victor wince. Silver had never hurt me the way it did werewolves and I always assumed it had something to do with me being half human.

"Wake up," I demanded, watching the frail woman stir to life once more.

All the beauty she once held was now stripped away from her. Her ratty chestnut hair was cut haphazardly and had streaks of gray. Dirt stained her face and clothes that held multiple holes in the them. Whenever a pack member discarded something, we would hand it down to this woman. She had turned into a skeleton, only getting food and water once a day. My mother never had a bath and used a bucket to conduct her business.

The woman had barely seen me over the years but when she did, her brown eyes always startled me. It was like staring into a mirror and sometimes I wished to gouge my eyes out so I wouldn't have such an uncanny resemblance to her. She stumbled off the thin mattress she slept on, rising to her feet. It took her some time, but she finally made her way to the gate of the cell and attempted to touch me.

Victor pulled me back just before her dirty, wrinkled hand could graze mine. Unlike my father, my mother had aged but she looked far older than what she was meant to. Dark raccoon-like circles sunk her eyes in and her face looked as if she were a drug addict I had pulled from the street.

Hurt flashed in Lucille's eyes when Victor pulled me away but she still attempted to smile, "You get more beautiful each time I see you," her broken voice complimented and I couldn't help the pang of disappointment that ached my chest.

If she hadn't made that one mistake, things would have been different.

My father had left Lucille's punishment up to me. I couldn't kill her. I loved Grace. She was my mom. But I couldn't bring myself to kill the woman who gave birth to me because watching the life drain from her eyes would torment me too much. What kind of person did that make me?

"I just came to see if you're still alive," I kept my face stoic — being an alpha for so many years had conditioned me well. Letting emotions show in front of others was rare for me unless it were Victor or my brother, Sylvian.

"My heart is still beating strong," she gave me a sad smile, "how is your dad and your brother?"

"Both are fine," I answered in a clipped tone. She knew better than to ask me about my father and yet she still did so, "Even mom is well," I purposely added and watched as she struggled to hide the scowl that desperately tried to capture her face.

She sighed, a wary look flashing in her eyes before speaking the words I knew she would say, "Sydney, I think it's time you let me go. You don't have to leave me here. I know that's what your father wants but I'm your mother."

I grimaced at her words, once again stepping toward the cell so she could feel the impact of my words as I delivered them, "It's not dad that wants you here anymore. It's not up to him. You don't leave this place alive, mother, because we both know what will happen if you do. My father should have killed you when he had the chance." With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, Victor silently behind.

He was always silent. As a young girl, he had taught me sign language so I would be able to communicate with him. He wasn't born mute though. Year's ago, before my time to be honest, Victor and his parents were part of a pack of rogues. He was born into the life, becoming all he ever knew. One day, they had attacked a pack and Victor didn't like what had happened so he spoke up. Their leader's punishment was cutting young Victor's tongue off in front of everyone as a warning — not only to Victor but to everyone who dared go against him.

As a child, when he told me that story, I thought it was his way of scaring me but as I grew older I realized the truth. I looked at Victor with a new light. He had a silent, brooding exterior but inside wasn't as hard and cold as he would have liked. Admittedly, he had a soft spot for me, and my family. Mostly me though.

We made it out of the underground bunker that the cells where in and I inhaled a large breath. My lungs were grateful for the fresh air but the horrific smell of the place still lingered on me. If there was one thing I hated, it were those cells. Past alpha's barely used the place but ever since I took over, attacks were often and the place became my second home. It was like male alphas couldn't handle a female half breed doing better than them.

Victor's long, thick fingers circled my elbow causing me to meet his eyes which burned with an unasked question. He didn't need to ask or sign it out because I knew what was going through his head. Sometimes it felt as if Victor and I ran on a wave length that was only meant for us.

"I'm fine, Vicky. You worry too much."

He rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks and walking in the direction of our pack house. Yup, he was definitely mad at me.

I ran up to catch him and then met his purposeful slow stride, "Awe Vicky, you're being no fun," I pouted, batting my long eyelashes at him. It probably looked as if I were having a seizure on my face but a girl's got to try.

He side stepped a large tree root that protruded from the earth and then glared at me as if asking 'Is that your idea of fun'. That was another thing between Victor and me. We could communicate with our eyes, which sometimes wasn't a good thing.

"You know what I mean," I huffed, "It's not like I can just forget her existence down there and seeing her does make me a little...sad. But life goes on."

I chose to ignore the emotion that flashed in Victor's gorgeous blue eyes. It wasn't sympathy. He never looked at me with sympathy because he hated when people looked at him with sympathy. But he cared, and around me that emotionless mask of his was never adorned.

Victor draped an arm over my shoulders, placing his soft, plump pink lips on my temple. His hand then slowly moved to the small of my back as he guided me in the opposite direction of the pack house.

"Problems at the border?" I quized, cocking a brow in question.

He nodded, leading the way to the eastern border.

I could handle my own against werewolves and even other threats. The fact that I didn't have a beast didn't stop me from fighting alongside my pack and defending our name and honor. I had been trained in various forms of martial arts, trained with my mom whenever she held pack training in the mornings, and even learned about my hunter heritage, using the tools they used. I always kept a silver blade with me tucked in my waistband at all times.

All the training I did led to the lean, toned body I now had. Sometimes, I just admired the way my ass looked in the mirror, because, why the hell not?

The sounds of twigs snapping and leaves crunching filled the space around us. There was no breeze, the scorching California sun only not affecting us due to the tall trees that were full with bright green leaves. Being a werewolf, or even a half blood in a tropical place like this wasn't fun. We already ran warmer than humans so the heat made us suffer but we adapted. I, on the other hand, had a body that cried during these heat waves. That meant I desperately needed a shower. Maybe to even sit in a bath filled with ice.

The scent of sandlewood and lavender hung in the air, something sweet mixing with it. The tiny hairs on my body rose, goosebumps littering my skin. A strange feeling of anticipation flooded my system. I had dealt with rogues and other threats before, the feeling I felt now was vastly different from the feelings I felt all those other times. 

We reached the border and I found one of the male patrol wolves standing guard, watching three large wolves. Beside the male wolf stood two vampires on either side of him which explained the sweet scent that tickled my nose.

Dimitri stood with a lopsided grin on his pale face. His jet black hair was tied into a bun on his head, his eyes nearing an angry shade of blood red as he started at the three unknown wolves. Dimitri's eyes usually changed according to his mood, right now, he wasn't very happy. He wore a black tee, black ripped jeans and combat boots.

His mate stood in crouching position, hissing at the wolves. Her mocho curls framed her pretty face and she was clad in a simple shorts and red vest. They made sure to stay in the shadows so the sun wouldn't singe their skin.

The large wolf with black glossy fur and eyes as silver as the moon growled lowly at Dimitri and Ambrosia. A ginger colored wolf only slightly smaller than the black stood ready to attack. The last wolf was gray with black tufts of fur. I deduced that the three wolves were Alpha, Beta, and Delta. All male.

My eyes locked onto the silver eyes of the black wolf and he stopped growling, looking at me with an awestruck gaze. He repositioned himself, letting out a whine and dropping his head. When he caught the sight of Victor holding me protectively a growl far more vicious than the last ripped through the air.

Victor shoved me behind him, worry blazing in his eyes. I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, letting him know that I would be fine. Just to be careful, I had one hand behind my back, gripping the handle of the silver blade I always kept with me.

"Shift," I ordered the three wolves, "I can smell that you aren't rogues but you have still trespassed on claimed territory with no permission and I cannot speak to you while you're in wolf form."

The alpha huffed, nodding his big head to the two men flanking him. With that, the three began to shift, except the Alpha may have been in human form but his beast was very much present as his deep voice growled, "Mate!" as he looked me dead in the eyes.