Chapter one

                                    

                                          
With her hand resting on the large door, she took a deep breath, wondering if she really should push it open or just back away slowly, run down the icy stairs, and back home. She was late, so late her entrance in the Gathering house couldn't help to be noticed.
                          
She glanced at the crescent moon peeking out from behind dark clouds against the black sky, it wasn't even six in the evening yet and night had already announced its presence. Trying to gather what she had of courage to face the rest of the pack, she blew her snow-wet blonde hair out of her eyes, sighed, and leaned her forehead against the door.
                          
Her pants were wet as well, clinging to her legs, she had slid on the snowy sidewalk as she ran and had fallen on her ass. Damn snow. Now her thick jacket was covered in mud from the street. It had been embarrassing, but luckily no one was around, the small town felt positively deserted. She knew it was because of this pack meeting, she had heard people talk about it all day. Everyone wanted to be there. And she was late.
                          
Her father would be angry, he had already stressed the importance of being on time several times. Too many times to count. She groaned loudly. She could already imagine the silence that would spread in the Gathering house as she pushed open the door, all eyes would be on her. Again. And especially the eyes of her father as he, once again, gave her that knowing look, the look that said promised another lecture when they got home. She would be in trouble. Again.
                          
But, when she finally did manage to open the door, it was not silence that greeted her. No one even saw her walking in. What met her instead was chaos. Shouting. People practically screaming at each other. She couldn't make out one voice from the others. Rows and rows of chairs, scraping along the wooden floors as the people sitting on them could barely stay put.
                          
"I'm telling you, we can't let him!" one person shouted, the headmaster of the small school in town, Mr. Woodright. He ran his hand through his thinning white hair and continued, "It'll put the whole pack in danger."
                          
"You can't judge a wolf by his fur," another interjected, Dr. Edward Mallard, the town's physician. She had fond memories of him as a young pup, always smiling and laughing. When she got in trouble with her parents, she could always count on an understanding friend in him. "You have no proof of your accusation," he simply stated.
                          
Her eyes wandered to the back of the Gathering house, to the raised platform. There they sat, the Elder Council, they gave her chills. All four of them former Alphas, and it showed, the entitlement, the self-righteousness they held in their eyes as they sat there in silence, listening intensely to the pack's outcries. They are to be revered, her father always told her, and as former Alphas, they outranked everyone but the current.
                          
Which led her to her father, who sat in the middle, in front of the Council. Calm as ever he reflected on each statement silently. His expression gave nothing away, his elbow resting on the armrest, his thick finger against his lips, listening, his bushy eyebrows knotted together in deep thought. She couldn't remember a time her father had been anything but the strong silent type, never having to raise his voice for the sheer power behind the tone and the impact of his words. He was a good Alpha, the best, she had always had the utmost respect and admiration for him. He held the whole pack's loyalty as only a true Alpha could. Behind him a tall broad man stood, hands clasped behind his back, his stance straight and alert. George, his Beta. He had been to their house many times for dinner, she always found him to be an unbelievably boring man. But he was strong, a good leader, and her father had been impressed with him from the start.
                          
"He's a murderer!" a woman shouted in the back, but she had no chance of seeing who that woman was. The room erupted in shouts again.
                          
"Hey!" a voice whispered in her ear, "Hey, AJ, over here." Someone took her by the hand and dragged her along, pressing them against the wall, as far away from the shouting maniacs as they could come, before they reached the corner.