This is my first story, with a totally new character added to their world. I don't really expect anyone to read this, but I am going to try to have it updated relatively often I think. World and cannon characters belong to Patricia Briggs, plot and OC belong to me I guess? Enjoy

Prologue:

Charles and Ophelia were born 4 minutes apart. Being born a werewolf was unheard of, and being a twin was even more rare. Add that to the fact that they were born in the flathead tribe of northern North America, and their grandfather was a magic man and their mom the tribe's healer, the birth of these two young wolves was an cherished miracle. Though with the birth of two wolves their mother did not make it past the birth, and so their father Bran, and their grandfather Swift eagle raised them.

From a young age it was obvious that Charles played the role of the big brother well. His warm caramel colored wolf was two times the size of Ophelia's small pitch black wolf and he was fiercely protective of her. Ophelia was constantly trying to play pranks on her brother, as sisters are want to do, and it wasn't too hard for her considering that while her brother got the size, it was Ophelia who inherited most of the magic potency. She was great with magic and her true happiness lay with nature and the natural spirits.

Their childhood happiness was short lived though, for when Charles and Ophelia were 19, their tribe allied with another tribe to the west. This tribe was large and full of warriors, where as the flatheads were more of a healing people. This alliance was meant to protect both tribes and expand marriage opportunities. It was then that Ophelia fell in love, he was a young Chickawa boy named strong wind, or as she called him, Win. Theirs was a fast and strong love, full of passion and trust. To Ophelia theirs was a love that transcended time and Win would be her mate in all sense of the word. So one winter night, Ophelia showed Win her greatest secret, her wolf, but when Win saw her new shape he was scared and angry about what she was. So that night when they parted ways, Win went to his tribes elders and told them of the monsters he saw, and how they were not good allies and that they should be destroyed.

The attack was planned for the next hunting trip that the Charles and Bran had planned, this trip would take the most deadly mean from the tribe. That night the Chickawas struck, with no one to fight beside her it was left to Ophelia to protect the tribe. She was outnumbered and the Chickawas went through and killed every member of her tribe, man, women, and child, until it was just her standing alone. Then, Win, with the plan to gain prestige went to kill her. Ophelia was in shock, hurt and angry at the actions of the man she thought she loved that Ophelia went into e condar, a raging berserker state that only the strongest wolves were able to access in the most dire of times though they didn't have any control once they were in it, and killed all the members of the Chickawa warriors. Her rage didn't end there, she went to the tribe and, without her being in control of her body, killed every person in the Chickawa tribe. When Bran and Charles came back from their trip, it was to see Ophelia sitting in the middle of the Flathead camp, covered in blood, holding the body of her grandfather.

"What happened O?!" Exclaimed a worried Charles.

"The Chickawas…. They attacked. I couldn't fight them off. They… they killed everyone. Then the next thing I knew, I was in the Chickawa camp covered in blood with bodies laying all around me. How did this happen!?" cried O.

"The condar. You accessed the condar state and avenged our tribe. That is something to be proud of, since you were not able to save them, you avenged them." Calmly stated Bran as he pulled the body out of her arms. "Let's get you cleaned up child, and give these bodies a proper send off to the mountain spirits. The condar state is dangerous and takes a lot out of a person, both physically and emotionally."

As the three of them finished giving the members of their tribe a proper send off, it was obvious that Ophelia was in a numb state. She hadn't said a word to them since she had explained what happened and she hadn't stopped shaking. Charles knew something was terribly wrong with O, more than just what had happened. She was shaken mentally and he could tell that they carefree young girl he knew was gone, she had been replaced by a scarred women who had seen and done too much for her young years. "O, we will get through this. We still have each other, we still are pack", Charles said quietly. Ophelia didn't respond, she was lost in her own world reliving the past 12 hours, reliving the time when everything fell apart. "Talk to me O, you are my sister, my other half. We need to stick together through this."

"How can you even bare to look at me?!" Shouted Ophelia, "look around you, look at the destruction I have caused. I failed to save our people, and destroyed another tribe in vengeance. What kind of sister is that?"

"You are my sister, my closest friend, all I have left. Don't leave me now O."

O slouched a little at his words, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. She knew he was right, that they were all each other had now, them and Bran. Wolves needed a pack, she needed them and they needed her, even if the girl they knew was gone.