The Hale Legacy is my own Spin-off idea of the MTV series Teen Wolf, but without the teen drama. Once I have the main characters established, I will begin writing story lines in Episode form. I hope to create 10 episodes per season. Thanks for reading my story, and welcome to the Hale Legacy.
Introduction
I wanted to let the rage consume me. I wanted to hunt the Argents the way they had hunted my kind for centuries. They broke our pact without provocation. No Hale had killed a human in my lifetime. They slaughtered my family and I wanted revenge.
It would have been easy to go back to Beacon Hills and terrorize the human population with wolf sightings and attacks until it drew the hunters out. I was always good at stalking my prey. I have patience, something a lot of my kind lack. The fires that burn in us and fuel our rage, burn low in me; but they burn hot. My feral nature has always been easy for me to control and some in the family thought that was a sign of weak blood. My father taught me that it was strength. He said that I could move more easily among humans and not worry about loosing control.
Even the slightest slip can cause serious harm or death to humans, and draw the attention of the hunters. Even if the sons 'o bitches didn't come, loosing control could mean exposure to the humans and that would bring the wrath of the packs down on me. We have ancient laws that we have to abide. The Packs of the Moot enforce those laws in their territories.
So before I could give in to my grief and pain, my great uncle found me and explained that I was the only one that could find a new safe haven for our family. I had to be the one to parley with the great houses and rebuild what had been lost.
He pointed out that I had been living in a city that fell into the territory protected by the brotherhood. Historically, werewolves and vampires simply don't get along. I lived in their territory and managed not to have them hunt me down for several years. I was able to hunt because I don't hunt humans. I was able to thrive because I don't lose control every time it gets tense or I get angry. I had a dangerous job and managed the stress and even injuries without killing anyone or exposing myself to them. I was the only one left that had that kind of control. I had good friends in Caldwell. I plan on going back someday, even if only to visit, and I hope that I can keep in touch with a few of them.
The biggest problem with finding a new territory for werewolves is finding a place not already controlled by an existing pack. If your pack isn't strong enough to fight for a new home, you'll find yourself searching high and low, sniffing out place after place and finding yourself in the territories of other wolves that are none too happy to see you.
I tried to contact some of the other families and work out safe passage, but that only works for regions controlled by the Moot. Independent packs and even a few mutts have carved out hunting grounds for themselves that aren't part of the treaty. The great families signed the treaty long ago and have a relative peace so long as they respect each other's borders.
Asking for safe passage would keep me from starting a war, but lets the other families know just how desperate we are. Eventually the rumour mill will have its way and there will be challengers. There will be old enemies that will come hunting; open season on the Hale's.
One family, in Bear Valley, allowed me limited access to their archives and helped me plan a few trips so long as I sent them word of who and what I find when I get there. It was a mutually beneficial agreement. I get their help and protection in their region, and in return I give them updated info on whatever I find that is outside their territory. They don't have to risk a single member of their pack.
The Bear Valley wolves were not a traditional family, but there were a few purebloods among them and they have honor. They don't agree with my family's acceptance of humans into our family. They enforce the law that prohibits any human from being allowed to know about us. We, on the other hand look for mates that can accept the truth and join our family. In this way, we have humans that will give their lives to protect their children and spouses. There are very few packs that live that way.
The Beacon Hills region was my family's territory. For generations our pack controlled the area, enforcing pack law and hunting in safety. That all changed six years ago when almost the entire family was trapped in our home and burned alive. Now the region is out of control. Other packs circle our lands like scavengers and other creatures are flocking to the area. The humans of Beacon Hills have no idea how much danger they are in. The Argent clan hunters have moved in. They are hunting everything in the area that has a hint of supernatural aspect. If we want to rebuild the family, we need a sanctuary.
I've searched half a dozen possible territories in remote parts of the country and even one in the Yukon, but it was always the same. Too many mutts, or another unknown clan had taken up residence, but hadn't declared themselves to the Moot.
For posterity's sake I'd like to say that my arrival in Ellensburg, Washington was nothing less than fated. The clouds parted and the light of understanding shown down from the heavens the moment I stepped foot in to town. The folk of Ellensburg met me with friendly smiles and open arms.
Or, maybe I should say that I arrived on the day of a solar eclipse. The sky darkened as I crossed the city limits, heralding the nocturnal nature of the town's newest citizens. The howls of the mundane wolves in the area could be heard no matter where you were in Ellensburg.
Neither of those is true, but they would make for properly dramatic stories. The truth is there wasn't much to tell, but my great uncle Harovan insisted that this time in our family was important and should be recorded by the one chosen to lead our family to Ellensburg. He thinks that someday a young pup is going to read this entry in the family archives and be inspired. Although I remember sitting on the floor of the family library, reading journals from the past; I just hope there is a pup to continue the family name, human or Werewolf.
The Hale line is a very old family originating in Romania. After a few set backs in local politics and superstition, we moved to the US and helped settle California. Our family was safe and able to manage local population for more than 120 years. After the fire, everything changed. Those of us that were left feared the flames had also claimed our future. There are no living children to carry on our family.
Even the humans in the Hale family were destroyed. I specify humans because the hunters didn't care who they burned. They consider the humans that are our kindred to be complicit in our crimes against the "natural order". Not that I've ever thought normal humans could even contemplate the real meaning of the term.
So by now you get it. I was born a Werewolf. Not the "I was a teenage Wolf-man" type of creature, but one of many different species of lycanthrope wolf breeds. My family are not turned by being bitten, although we can infect others. We are born with the wolf gene in us. Most Of our kind have relationships with humans because two of our species can't mate. We need humans to procreate, but finding a human that will willingly live in or allow their children to live in Wolf society isn't easy.
Most of us begin to change when we are teenagers. The process is painful and dangerous to both ourselves and others around us. We have to be taught to control our primitive sides. We don't turn in to mindless beasts that only care about hunting for human flesh on the full moon or when we shift, and no…silver has no effect on us.
