Chapter 1

I was rejected by my mate so you can imagine how I feel about the subject. 

 I was young, only 15 when it happened.  He turned 18 and basically my life ended at that point.  He was an Alpha and I was an unsuitable mate.

That I was his mate came as a shock to everyone, especially me.  I was a runt, frail in comparison to the other boys my age.   My family was of low rank, in a pack of Lycan pure bloods and I was insignificant amongst the most insignificant. 

 My wolf rarely made an appearance and when it did show itself it had a dark silent presence that no one in the pack quite understood or to my good fortune challenged.  

It was as unlike my human form as possible, yet it was the same as it stood on the side lines and simply watched as life went on around it, just like I did.  Our mutualistic relationship was never fully comfortable.

My rejection by my mate was very official, as his position in the pack demanded.  I accepted it without objection, for many reasons.  

It was horrifically painful physically and emotionally.  It felt like my skin was being peeled off and my soul tossed into hell, a terrible, cold void.  

But once the bond was broken and the connection waned I was able to breath again, to hope for a relatively normal life somewhere in the background, not seen or heard. 

The intense pull, the craving for him that had existed from the time he turned 18 until the rejection became a more bearable deep ache in my chest.  

Time passed, there is now only the rare piercing sensation, like a thin sharp blade thrust into my heart, as a cruel reminder of that horrible time.

Years have passed, and I will be turning 18 in a few days.  I have left my pack, disowned them and my illustrious ancestors, and washed my hands of them and my undeserving mate forever. 

 I am now a rogue Lycan.  I lead a quiet life in another state and kept a low profile, even the old torments of a full moon are under my control. 

 I still feel the heat and want to mate but now I choose who to with.  

 And if by any chance my old mate still feels my presence I hope he also feels the pleasure I do when I join with my lovers....I hope it hurts.  

Originally my hate for them was like a furnace and it created an iron resolve, never will I bow or bend to their rules again.  I will control my nature, the parts of me that remind me of them and live as I wish. 

The Lycan and werewolf mating bond is like a drug, the most addictive drug possible, all-consuming that no amount of rehabilitation can truly free you from it.  

Like any enslaving drug, it takes away what you truly feel and think and replaces those with illusions, compulsions and an endless unwarranted longing for another.   

You are a slave to it and it lures you in with passion and lust.  You Suddenly love, and lust, are totally connected with someone that before the bond existed was nothing to you, possibly even an enemy, or not the gender you prefer.  It takes away choice, independence and most importantly individuality.

It also rides in tandem, is complicit with the rank system of Lycans and werewolves.   It's used to keep the Alphas, Beta etc in their elevated positions and their underlings in their place. 

 It allows those who want to dominate to do it freely and forces the weak to submit and surrender either without a choice or without shame.  

I remember so clearly my own sudden desire to submit to my mate, when in my right mind I would have fought back, fang and claw.  I hate that thought the most.  

                                                         

The first thing I will do when I turn 18 is legally change my name. 

 I use Axen Nikola, a simplified version of my family name, at present.  Officially changing my name is the last thing I need to do to feel like I have left the past behind. 

 It won't purge my mind of all the bad memories but it will cut all ties.  Axen Nikola will start afresh.  

But back then....

At 15 I was tall like my father but thin and wiry.  I could run like the wind, faster than any of the other boys.  Like all the others in my pack I had olive skin. I had my mother's light green eyes but mine were heavy lidded and cold. 

 I was often accused of all sorts of things because of them, laziness, rebelliousness but mostly arrogance.  

My face was the bane of my life as I had not inherited the square masculine jawline or the wide forehead of my ancestors.  These genetic characteristics were clearly visible in every other male of my pack, it defined us as purebloods.  

My face was long with an angular jawline, atop a long neck that made me look soft and weak in comparison to the ruggedness of the other males. 

 I had high cheekbones and almost invisible eyebrows that looked like they'd been plucked out at birth. While my brothers had light beards and hair on other parts of their bodies at my age  I was still as smooth as a baby.

I also had my mother's thick wavy hair which fell half way down my back and tied in a long plait. Being true bloods our hair is very important to us. 

 It's left uncut until we reached maturity at 18.  Then it is cut in a special ceremony by our parents and the plait placed in the Chapel vault like all our predecessors had done before us.  

It meant we were no longer the children of our parents, our loyalty, our whole existence was solely for our mate.   At 18 we also found our mate.  That thought still makes me shudder.

So basically I was an outsider, a glaringly obvious embarrassment to my family (who suffered discrimination already for being low borns) to the pack as a whole (as they were the most powerful, wealthy pack in the country being the only pure bloods) and to our Alpha and The Pure (his family).

We all lived within are relatively small area within the city, consisting of about five suburbs that ran down from the top of the hills to the river.  The elite families lived high up in large houses in the hills, while lowborns like my family lived  by the river.  The children of the pack went to one of two schools, Wentworth Academy or Preston Public. I went to the later.  The Alphas, The Pure and  higher ranked went to the Academy.

At school I was occasionally bullied but mostly ignored.  The half hearted bullying stopped when my wolf suddenly made an appearance when I was 13,earlier than it should have and to everyone's surprise. My symbiant other half, was nothing like my human form, in fact, the absolute opposite.  He was a big black bristling wolf with red hungry eyes. It took a long time for us to meld together into a comfortable partnership.  We were wary of each other and trust had to be earned. People thought twice about how they treated me after that.  I much preferred being ignored than beaten.

I knew I was smarter than the other boys.  I had taught myself to read and write in three languages. I knew the history of our pack by heart.  I was good at science and maths.  Still all this did me no good as I was a lowborn and my delicate appearance did me no favours.  I was shunned by the pretty girls I approached, they preferred the rough, aggressive boys who flirted with them.  The boys didn't come near me unless they had to, even though some of them often looked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable and I knew they were curious about me.