Book One in the Lycan Chronicles
Evander Rue had his entire life planned out even before he was born. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and parents who never had time for him. A family who barely called or cared for him left him to be rais...
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It was during the witching hour that he received an anonymous call.
"They're coming for you."
Whoever had been on the other line had hung up abruptly, leaving him scrambling to get dressed and grab the few possessions he dared to keep on him before leaving the safe house. He wanted to call his father, but the risk of something using his phone to track his location was too great, so he had left it behind when he escaped out the backdoor, running into the forest at top speed. Not many people knew of his existence, though the number had dangerously increased throughout the centuries, making the target on his back bigger. There had been a few close calls in the past, but he always managed to get away. His father made sure of it since he couldn't always be with him; it would defeat the purpose of keeping his existence a secret.
Being the adoptive son of the infamous Elder Akela had its many nuisances.
For instance, the safe house he had been in fifteen minutes ago was smoking, and the dark, toxic clouds coiled and danced into the atmosphere, a forewarning of what was to come. He'd been located in northern Canada when they came, living in the safe house for a couple of months before he had to move again. It was more secure for him and the Elders if he was constantly on the move, not allowing himself to get settled anywhere. It was too risky.
Traveling south was the safest option, avoiding the populated areas, covering his scent and tracks to make it harder for his pursuers to find him, and give himself time to find another one of his father's safe houses. A few had been compromised over the years, declining the number of places he could hide in.
