Summoned

Lana

"Lana, the clothes are dry, thieves always come by at night, remember?" that was Gwen's voice from the insides.

I smiled and stayed put on my little exploration, the sun. I love the golden smile it cast on us with such lovely warmth that I've grown addicted to.

Tomorrow, I'll be eighteen, that meant so much. First, all of us, those of us who would clock eighteen tomorrow night would gather in the temple in the woods and sing to the moon goddess till we all transform from our human forms to what we are.

Werewolves!

"Worried you might be wolfless?" came Gwen.

"No!" I turned to her, "I wouldn't wish such for myself."

She giggled like a fool and returned to the clothes on the long ropes. We had both watched those with utter care, so they would sparkle like gems when worn under the sun and under the moon, some of them were made from the furs of comrades who fell in battle.

"No one would pray of such, but you know, they usually say the prettiest is always wolfless, and as it stands now, you are the prettiest amongst us all," she said.

I wanted to laugh, but I held the laughter. I shouldn't laugh to such rough play. How could she speak of the worst things that could happen to anyone in our pack, and make my name the title to her shit?

Anyone who didn't transform during the night of the full moon would be regarded as low rank and treated as human slaves.

Yes, you heard me right, human slaves!

Humans are below standard, very weak in strength and thought, but, it's a wonder how many of them have become rogues. They dare cross the boundaries of our worlds to come hunt for us, but they always end up as slaves and meal to those who care to taste their flesh.

"I am the prettiest, but I'll be the first to transform and roar in your face," I retorted and joined her.

We have so many clothes on the long ropes. The ones for our parents and to our brothers. We were both last born and only daughters to our parents.

"I pray you be the first, because to some extent, I am worried yours might be a problem," she added.

I saw the worry on her face. How dare she worry for me? I would scratch her face with my claws which were more like human finger nails but longer and sharper when drawn.

That's the first thing that anyone would check out on anyone born a werewolf. I have it, and she does, all of us have it, sharp claws, but that of those who've transformed were thick and deadly. They could kill in a snap.

"You don't have to worry for me, mate," I said with a smile to the sun, "you should worry for yourself."

I liked the sun from where I stood. It was always bright in our pack territory, but I wouldn't tell how beautiful it would be outside our pack territory because none of us, the wolfless had been allowed to take one step out of our pack territory for the sake of rogues who rule the woods.

Too many rogues!

"What's the reason why you want to transform?" I asked Gwen.

"Lana, I want to at least, go out with the pack warriors and the chiefs on surveillance missions and business trips, like our brothers and those who transformed before us," she answered.

We were done with the clothes, and were thus on our way to our quarters, where we live with out parents and brothers, and neighbors who loved us more than any neighbor outside our pack territory would do.

"You want to be a pack warrior?" I raised my brows, "that's wonderful dream."

We both laughed, then, she looked me in the face after we dropped the clothes on two neat mats, and started to pick them and set them based on whom they belonged to.

"What about you, what do you wish to become after you transform?" she asked.

"You know Absalom?" I asked.

"Sure, I do," she said.

"I am in love with him, but you know he won't come to me until I transform and become worthy of his love," I whispered to her.

Of course, I wouldn't scream what I dreamt of, because there were ladies around us, many of them had encountered transformation, and were all in love with the young pack warrior, Absalom the great.

Gwen laughed.

She knew I was stupid. What I desired was weird. I would have to fight a thousand ladies to have my way to Absalom. I might even have to fight her, too.

"You can't say that, Nadia, you have to be a warrior before you deem yourself fit for such renowned warrior, else, you want to fail seven times before you realize you aren't the only one who has eyes on him," she uttered in response.

Her words didn't seat well with men. They annoyed me more than anything on earth would do. She knew well enough that warriors don't take warrior wives, they always mate with those who could have kids for them and care for the family in their absence.

"I stand greater chances than any pack warrior you know out there, you can bet on my chances if you don't mind," I rebuffed. "I don't want to be a warrior like you and many of them out there, I want to be a healer, or a cloth maker, and, a wedded mate to Absalom."

Someone sounded the moon horn.

The horn was said to have been gifted to our ancestors by one of the messengers of the moon goddess whom was present in the first transformation that formed the pack of grey furs.

"Seems the time has come," I whispered, "let's go."

We both strolled out of our quarters. We weren't the first to gush out of our quarters and run to the fields. Many of those who had been wolved were there, then, nearly a hundred of wolfless young men and ladies were gathered at the center.

We joined them.

The Alpha of our clan, Alpha Trojan walked into the gathering and we all went down on our knees with our faces bowed to the earth.

"Long live the alpha of alphas!" the orator who blew the horn yelled.

Alpha of alphas? I raised my head a bit to see Trojan's weak smile, the pride on his face. The last time I checked, the alpha of alphas was Demitiri of Black Fang pack, I've heard of him but never have I seen him.

We hesitated to utter such words as we were expected to. Trojan isn't the alpha of alphas, but we love him, and for that reason, we waited for the orator to correct his error of pronouncement.

"Didn't you hear me?" came the orator's rage, "all hail Trojan, the alpha of alphas!"

"All hail Trojan the alpha of alphas!" a deep male voice chanted.

I knew that voice, it was Absalom. For the sake of Absalom, I hollered along with those of us who had been forced to honor Trojan with such title that could cost his head.

"All hail Trojan, the alpha of alphas!"

"Yes, Trojan, our great alpha, has won the hearts of two other packs whom Black Fang called micro-packs," came the orator. "Together, we formed an alliance, and we've become one big indivisible pack with Trojan as the alpha of alphas!"

My heart skipped a beat. Trojan had rebelled against the Black Fang, that meant nothing but a war we all must fight if we wished to spare our necks.

That's more of the reason why I need to be wolved tonight, so, I could enlist to serve in the alpha's army and fight side by side with Absalom, the man I loved.

"Today, hundred of us has come to the center of this field from where they would be marched to the temple in the woods, to be blessed and wolved by the moon goddess," came Trojan's voice.

I looked up once more to see his face. He had no beards and he was younger than many of us had thought of him when we heard the alpha would visit.

We only see him on scrolls and papers where he was drawn for various reasons, but now, we got to stand before him and hear his very unwise words.

"Many, if not all of them, will enlist in my army and march with me to the Black Fang pack territories and to their royalists and smash them to the earth if they refuse to confess I, Trojan, as their Lord and alpha of alphas!" he yelled.

***

Like flock of ships, or like the last batch of human slaves that were brought to our pack and thrown into shackles, made to work in the farms and textile mills for our pack, we were marched to the woods.

A gamma had been appointed to look after us, he wasn't my favorite gamma, Absalom, but we could trust his presence because he looked fierce with the scars on his face.

"Battle scars," Gwen whispered in my ears, "his name if Gab."

I smiled. He has an army of fifty with him, all with their claws drawn to show the new strength of the alliance, I could guess.

"Over here!" came a loud call, "all of you, the ladies!"