Chapter 1.

How could I have sat back and watched.

They were ripping and tearing and I could not let that happen. Not to her.

From the moment she looked at me I knew. I knew that this was something I would never be able to forgive if I sat back and did nothing for her. Something this perfect, this special, this radiant could not become dog food to a crowd of mangy mongrels. Not if I had anything to do with it.

The white of her skin shone out against the deep reds and oranges of the fallen autumn leaves, while the gold of the locks flowing from her scalp like liquid blended perfectly with the sun that escaped through the towering trees shielding the pack until you could not see the edge of the halo that surrounded her beautiful face. That seems such an inadequate word to use for her but I do not have time to think of anything better.

She must only have been 8 years old. I don't understand at the best of times how the pack can justify stealing something so small. But this time was worse. The scent and sight of her blood spilling relentlessly onto the forest floor felt like daggers being driven deeper and deeper into my stomach. I couldn't watch anymore and turned to face the opposite tree, knowing that it would not shut out the sounds of the growls and snarls escaping the lips of the others. But I felt her eyes turn to look at me before I knew what else to expect. The pull of her gaze was too great and I had to turn to look at her again. Only, this time I realised that through all the pain and anguish she must have been going though, this small, weak, fragile little girl had yet to utter a single word or sound. This in itself would have been strange if it hadn't been for the fact that she was smiling up at me. Her eyes found mine like magnets to metal and after that, it was impossible for either of us to look away, even if we had wanted to.

Even I knew what affect the colour of my eyes had on the people we "chose" but she was unfazed by how they were. She just lay there, smiling at me like I was the most important person in the world to her. Almost as much as she was to me, if that were possible.

Unfortunately I had to do something fast because the pack was starting to wonder why I wasn't enjoying the "delicious" meal they had picked up especially. I've always been high up in the rankings though. When I first joined, Paul took a liking to me and he made sure I got what I wanted so the others had gotten used to offering me the pest parts of the feed like the heart, liver, anything with a lot of blood basically. I hate to admit it because I know it should repulse and terrify me... but its tastes good.

And that's when I heard it. The first scream. A scream so shrill and blood curdling that I just couldn't stand it any longer. Every second felt like a year and I couldn't last another with that noise. Before I knew what I had done the pack was shattered. Snarling bodies we dispersing into the woods at all angles, their tails in between their legs as they ran from the gut wrenching howl that flooded up from my voice box. Even Paul, the biggest and bravest of all of us, retreated a good 4 steps back into the safety of the trees. He was black all over. Blacker than the darkest shadow but it was a gentle shade. It looked safe and warm against the harsh, terrifying grey that covered Carla. Normally this would have shocked and embarrassed me that I had embraced my animal instincts so readily. But the power that was beginning to course through my veins just drove me on faster to my aim.

To save her.

I turned back to Paul to find him standing next to a large oak around the outskirts of our clearing, the colour of his fur mixing perfectly with the dying bark of the tree. He did not look afraid or angry like I expected him to be. He simply looked at me and nodded. And with that he pivoted on his heel and strolled away into the trees, I presume to round up the scattered remnants of our pack. I knew I should have felt bad for what I had just done. Only as I began to calm down did I realise that the unmistakable taste of blood in my sneering muzzle. The iron yet sweet taste told me exactly who it belonged to and I was sure that when we got back to the house, I had a lot of making up to do with Carla.

But now that I was sure she was safe, my reflexes and senses began to relax. The stench of the damp, earthy forest no longer burns a pathway through my nostrils and into my head. The tang of her blood has stopped trying to make my insides convulse and writhe will longing. My ears have stopped picking up noises from the miles off motor way that at 6.13 in the morning lets Mr. Walker take the 14 mile drive to work in his 1994 Vauxhall Astra while trying to forget that his wife has just left him and he's about to have his house repossessed because his job isn't paying him half as much as the said that they would.

Unfortunately, with the relaxation came the realisation of what I had just done. She'd trusted me and I'd just attacked my friend in front of her. I could just see it now. Turing around and find her staring at me still but this time with a look of horror and disgust instead of understanding. That's what terrified me the most. For the first time in my life I may have found someone besides another wolf who could understand me, appreciate me, maybe even love me and I'd just screwed it up because of one momentary laps in judgement.

I could just run. I could run right here right now as fast as I can in the other direction and never look back. She wasn't really anything to me right? She was just a human. A skinny, furless little human; as fragile to me as a sheet of tracing paper. Sure she was one of the most beautiful creatures that I had ever seen but really you can't base a relationship on looks alone and I'd only just met her. But even as I was thinking it, I knew that I would never be able to just walk away from her. Even after just seeing her I felt like I knew every little thing about her I needed to know. She hadn't even uttered a word yet and I knew her voice would be able to melt my heart like ice.

I have to admit I was dreading what I was going to find as I turned around. Whether she would have died from the mortal injuries inflicted by my pack or in my eyes the worse of the two that I would turn to find her horrified of me, enough to try and get away even in the condition she would be in. So slowly turning around to see her was one of the hardest yet most natural things I've ever had to do.

I don't think it quite registered with me until she spoke that she was still there. She hadn't run from me screaming to tell her parents that a wolf from the woods had nearly killed her and that they should fetch their shot guns and follow her. She didn't even look scared of me. She simply smiled gently, like it was an effort to even move the muscles in her cheeks, and whispered the first words I ever heard her say and the last ones I'll ever forget.

"Thank you."

And she passed out like a light.