My Alpha? (SAMPLE)

Chapter 1

Pariah noun

Definition: an outcast

That's what I am, or at least that's the best term generally used to define me. I'm overall an outcast but social pariah is absolutely how I'm treated. I'm 18 years old, a senior at Crestwater High, and a werewolf who is part of the, of course aptly named, Crestwater pack. My name is Aurelia Bell, daughter to David and Lily Bell. I've always thought that names had meaning, maybe it's because I don't find meaning in any other part of my life anymore. However, in my case, I think the meaning is for sheer irony. The reason because Aurelia means 'golden' in Latin. Not a big deal and really not something super cool, but to me, it just puts more light on the fact that I'm an odd ball. To be named something that equitable to generally being considered to be quite precious, but be considered the dorky, unwanted, pariah, just didn't make sense.

Aside from the name, like I said, I'm a werewolf. Wolves are social creatures, werewolves even more so. For someone to end up an outcast with no social group, and still be part of a pack, is pretty uncommon, but here I sit. Alone. And I'm really okay with that fact. I try to make that perfectly clear. I don't want anyone's sympathy on this.

I've always been quiet and more of a loner, but it wasn't until after my dad died that I truly was alone. My mother couldn't and sadly, wouldn't cope with the loss. Her mate, the other half of her soul, was gone. He had died during one of his patrolling shifts, protecting our pack from rogues. The child they shared wasn't enough to sustain her. I wasn't enough to keep her going, keep her wanting to survive. She fed the bottle instead, an easier out, I suppose.

I was 11 when it happened. That is how old I was when my life changed, when it went to hell. I was an only child, and my dad loved to spend time with me. He taught me how to hunt, how to care for myself in the wild, so many things that I think others take for granted or don't even bother to learn. He was the only person with me when I shifted for the first time. We were camping right after my 10th birthday when it happened. Most wolves shift around puberty, age 12 or 13, sometimes later, so I was an early 'bloomer'. I'm grateful for that now. Because of that, dad had time to teach me how to truly connect with my wolf, be one with the natural side of my soul. It's like it was fate that she came to me so soon because it was just after I turned 11 that he died.

My mother did try and keep up appearances for a few months. Going grocery shopping, being seen with me. But it was all a big fat ruse in the end. She didn't want anyone snooping around, so she put on a show. She got more money, having a child and being a widow. Because of that, she made sure that no one would notice that she wasn't really a mother. She'd play the grieving widow and supportive mom cards when we went out. Then she'd run back to her room after we got home and start drinking. After almost a year, I stopped trying to pull her out of it. Her fits of rage weren't worth it.

I started doing odd jobs like mowing, snow shoveling, or other yard work around town until I was old enough to get a legal job. That way I could at least feed myself, mom sure as hell wasn't concerned about that. The money she got each month she spent on booze, maybe some random stuff for herself, but definitely mostly booze.

Even if the other pack members had started to notice how bad she was, no one did anything about it. They did distance themselves from us, knowing what was happening or not. No one wanted to go down with what appeared to be a sinking ship. My grandparents on my dad's side had passed years prior and my mother came from a different pack. We really never spoke about what pack and I didn't know any of my relatives from her side. She never made friends with anyone and was a real home body, like she didn't want to socialize. There was no one else from my family to step in either. She had basically paved the way for me to be a loner, it was really easy with her example.