what if I can't be
all that you need me to be?
city and colour - "little hell"
INTRODUCTION
It was probably some cruel joke played on me by my ancestors. I imagined them rolling around in their graves, piles of bone and dust convulsing in the dirt as they shout amongst themselves, "A female wolf? Impossible! A vile act against nature!"
Then the head Alpha - the very first leader of the wolves - silences the fury and panic, declaring in deep, powerful baritone, "We must punish her."
And that was the moment they chose to involve Jacob Black.
A descendant of the great and revered Ephraim Black, he was strong, determined, and probably the favorite of all the dead Alphas. So they picked him to torture me, which brings me to the next point - the main point, actually. In order for us "protectors" to thrive, to maintain peace for generation after generation, we have to keep the bloodline alive.
Enter imprinting.
One look into the designated person's eyes and suddenly, we knew this was who would maintain the pack; this was who would bear son after son, and those sons would shape-shift into the wolves we were told about at bedtime and around a bonfire. Shape-shifting was thought to be reserved for males because all of the protectors - both past and present - have been men. Except for me, of course, a female wolf who inherited the gene, whose very existence defied the "natural" order. I had the ability to phase, and unfortunately, I could imprint. And the lucky - or should I say unlucky - boy who was unwillingly bestowed upon me was none other than Jacob.
The only catch, though, was that he could still imprint, and the torturous part was that it wasn't on me.
