Please R&R, thank you
Chapter 1 The Boy
The boy in closet tried to keep himself sane. He should be used to it by now, really he should but he wasn't. And perhaps it was a good thing too because who knew what his master would come up with as punishment if time-outs in the closet didn't work any longer. He didn't think he'd survive if the beltings got any more severe or regular. But every time he was locked up in here and heard his master's and the pack's coming and goings through the door he was transported back to very first time he heard their prowling.
He couldn't remember how many full moons ago that was but it still seemed like yesterday or yesternight. The boy vaguely wondered if that was even a word and the thought kept the memories at bay for a few precious moments longer. But the inevitable happened and the boy heard his father scream for him to hide in the closet, heard his father spell it closed before there was a moment of complete silence. Then he heard the howling far away, coming closer and loud noise of a door being broken down. The howls turned into growls and then his father's screaming. Screaming so terrified and horrid that the boy started to scream with him, until his voice was hoarse and he couldn't separate memory from reality any longer.
Until the closet door opened and his master grabbed him by the arm with his claw like hand and effortlessly flung him into the middle of the room. The boy landed on his back, aggravating the welts of his latest lashing. Gritting his teeth against the pain he quickly got his knees, keeping his head down and the palms of his hands upwards to show his complete submission to his master. And he kept his mouth shut as that was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
His master stopped before him and the boy flinched. If he got this right then he'd, hopefully, would be left alone for the night and maybe even get his hands on some of the leftovers.
"Got anything to say, boy?" his master barked but the boy kept quiet. The question wasn't meant to be answered; he had learned that long ago.
The rest of the pack spoke in hushed tones but the boy could feel their mocking looks. The boy wasn't youngest or the oldest of the pack but he was the absolute omega, the weakling. So, instead of answering the question he showed his submission thus reinforcing his non-existing place in the hierarchy. He really should not feel embarrassed anymore by prostrating himself in front of everyone but still he did. And his master knew that and he reveled in it. The boy truly hated his master.
The boy stayed kneeled down but leaned forward until his forehead touched the floor between his master's feet, his fingertips touching the tips of his master's boots. Lastly he turned his head sideways, exposing his throat and going as limp as he could.
"Good dog." his master sneered with a hint of dark amusement and before the boy could let out a sigh of relief his master struck. His boot hit the boy square in the shoulder, toppling him over and landing him on his back once gain. He had hoped to be spared this final enactment of his humiliation but one look at his master told him enough. He would not be spared from anything tonight. His question was never more than a very convenient excuse. Not that his master ever needed an excuse, it was his role as the omega after all, to provide entertainment for the master and masses.
The boy stayed still on his back but his master placed a boot on his torso nevertheless. The boy almost snorted but managed to refrain. If his master had it in for him tonight than pointing out he had already submitted utterly and completely after his first stay in his master's closet would be a bad idea. Mentioning that at any given time was bad idea as speaking in and off itself was always a bad idea. He showing his master his stomach after fifteen lashings and a stay in the closet illustrated that quite nicely.
His master waved to one of the others and the boy heard the scampering of feet. Judging by the sound of it, it was Nicky. Nine year old, only part of the pack for a year, and still above him in the hierarchy Nicky.
And indeed Nicky appeared by his master's side carrying a plate, looking down on him with malevolent glee and the boy couldn't but sneer at him. He smoothed his expression quickly though as he felt the tip of his master's boot press into the hollow of his throat. He turned his head to the side once again and allowed his master to make slashing motions across his throat with his boot. The boy understood full well the intent behind the motion. His master had told him on many occasions that he was there to serve him and the pack and should he be too difficult he would have no problem with ripping him to shreds. The boy believed him without a doubt as he had seen what his master's nails could do, full moon or not.
"Still hungry boy?" his master asked, almost nicely which set the boy more on edge. Nice was something did not do. But he really was hungry, starving actually. It had been the reason for opening his mouth in the first place. And lying to his master now was quite useless, especially with his stomach growling loudly as his nose caught a whiff of the food on the platter. "Yes master." The boy answered softly and respectfully trying to keep the sheer need from his voice.
"You'd like this then, wouldn't you boy." his master asked, again in his almost nice voice and the boy risked a glance at the hand his master was waving in front of him. The mere sight and smell of the small of potato had the boy salivating. To add further humiliation the boy could actually feel a dribble of saliva run out of the corner of his mouth.
"Well," his master spoke again and the boy saw the small piece of food disappear into his master's mouth with dismay. "That's too bad."
The boy did his best to hide the disappointment from his face but he knew he failed terribly. The smirk on his master's face told him so. "Tell you what though," his master continued, "you go hunting and we'll see you back in two hours."
A swift kick to his side told the boy that he should get moving right away but he was too stunned by his master's words. He was allowed to go hunting which meant he was allowed to go outside. The last time had been almost ten full moons ago and that had been after he had been pleasing to his master in a completely…. The boy didn't have to see the smirk or the gleam in his master's eye as the realization caught up with him.
"Yes boy, you can show us your gratitude later. Now go get."
The boy needed no further encouragement to get up and ran from the den, through the many twisted corridors and out the front door. He only stopped when he was well into the surrounding forest and about a quarter mile from the lair.
The boy felt the delicious cool air on his face and for a couple of minutes he stood there soaking it in. Then he looked at the moon and saw it was hidden behind clouds but he knew it was waxing and that the full moon would be there in a few days time. Making his way deeper into forest he randomly picked berries from the bushes. He knew he had to catch himself at least something and eat it raw. The boy shuddered at the thought. Eating raw meat when they were in their human guise was simply disgusting. Even the wolf turned his nose up at uncooked rabbit or fowl, it wanted only human flesh.
But still he needed to catch something, eat something more filling than just berries, because the…suggestion his master had made would prove taxing.
The boy arrived at the stream that wound its way through the forest and he sat down on one on a discarded tree trunk beside it. Staring forlornly at the water the boy felt nausea rise as his stomach constricted at the thought of what was awaiting him upon his return. He didn't want show his gratitude, he had nothing to be grateful for. But of course that did not matter. What he felt or wanted hadn't mattered for a long time.
He could still remember his father asking what he'd like for breakfast on his sixth birthday. The boy had asked for strawberry ice cream and chocolates and sweets. His father had tried to look disgusted by his choices but a small smile had given the act away and he had conjured the boy the largest coupe he had ever seen with the chocolates and sweets floating around it. They had eaten it together and had the boy had felt pretty sick afterwards.
"We can't have the birthday boy sick, now can we," his father had said with a wink as he had handed him a potion, "But maybe next time you'll know better than to ask for such concoction."
But there would never a next time because two weeks later his father was dead, killed by his master and his pack. Just like everyone else in the village, except for the boy. Because the boy hadn't been found until the next morning, hiding in the closet. He had wished so many times that he too had died that night even though he knew the thought disgusted his father.
His father had told him the story about how they both had barely escaped the attack by evil wizards. They had killed his mother and sisters and everyone else in the village. Not even because they were food, a means to survival but because they hated muggles and wizards who associated with them. And evil dark wizard had wanted to cleanse the world of all of them.
The boy had not and did not understand that. They lived with muggles, his mother had been a muggle, and he was the child of both a muggle and a wizard. They had never done anything to hurt others and yet they been killed. At least werewolves had the excuse to actually need human flesh once a month. These evil wizards had no other reason than their beliefs. His father couldn't explain it either but he said that some people were nice and some were not and that applied to everyone and everything. Even dark creatures such as vampires and werewolves could be nice and many, many muggles weren't as excepting of magic as those in their village. The boy remembered his father had used a lot of difficult words by then, none of which he had understood. But the bottom line was simply: some people were nice and some weren't. And it was up to them to always be nice towards all others and keep fighting against those filled with hatred, no matter what they threw at them.
Tears were down his cheeks and the boy wiped them away angrily. He wondered if his father still loved him, knowing he had wanted to die rather than live and he had given up the fight. And he was a creature that considered humans there prey. Not that he had ever eaten human flesh but he would if that would move him up in pack, even if it was just one peg. Which was exactly why his master denied him.
The boy didn't know any longer whether he was nice or not and neither did he care. He simply existed for the entertainment of others and he had no way out. He had tried to run on several occasions in the past. He had tried to oppose his master, never challenging him directly, he wasn't that stupid, but he had tried to maneuver things in his favor. And he had failed miserably. The boy shook himself from his morose thoughts and looked up at the sky. An hour had passed already; he should be getting a move on. He got up from the trunk and leapt over the stream. Last year there had been a rabbit hole around here somewhere.
Just as the boy wanted to start walking a slight rustle further down caught his ear. The boy sniffed the air experimentally and he was surprised to smell a human. Probably some muggle got lost. The thought he had had earlier was back. If he could catch a human and drag it back to lair then he'd please his master, wouldn't he? And maybe, just maybe he wouldn't have to show his gratitude.
Slowly and cautiously the boy made his way in the direction of the scent. The human had not moved from his position, which made everything far more easily. The boy inhaled deeply to better test the scent. It was a nice smell, deep, masculine, and enticing but there was something wrong with it. Something vaguely familiar yet not. The boy tried hard but he couldn't place it. Of course his master never took him out all those training sessions he did with the rest of the pack.
He was very close to the man now and he hoped he'd have the element of surprise because the boy was sure he was an adult and he would need every advantage he could get. The boy inched forward a little more and now he could see the back of him. Not all that impressive actually. With such a scent the boy had almost imagined someone larger than life, because someone with such a scent was clearly an Alpha. The boy stopped dead in his tracks just behind the man.
He was about to attack another werewolf, an Alpha, and if he wasn't mistaken, a wizard at that. One who was obviously seeking out his master, because what else could he be doing here. The boy's heart rate and breathing quickened at the thought off all the trouble he had gotten himself into because he thought he could attack a human. The boy vaguely noted the man turning around, with his wand pointed at him and before the world went black his last coherent thought was that this man really did not look all that intimidating.