Chapter 1 Prologue

She smelled like an open garden, on a hot summer day. With her curly afro that bounced on her shoulders when she walked. She has grown up to be the most beautiful creature to ever walk my pack lands.

Her petite features making her appear almost fragile, almost, that is until I stare at the bite mark on my wrist. That little bunny had bit me when we were kids while she had a river of tears rolling down her then plump anch chubby cheeks. I almost smile at the memory, i stood on my tippy toes with my arm in the air with her favourite plush toy in my hand while I dangled it around. I had and evil smirk on my face while I watched her jump and kick trying to get it. As her last resort, with a fire burning in her already red eyes she jumped catching me off guard and catching my wrist in the process.

The little shit had bit down with all her might and stayed stuck on my arm like a tattoo no matter how hard I tried to pull. Her new profound strength was something I planned on asking her about later on if I lived for another second that is, because right then her screams had magically travelled to my mother's ears and she came like a raging forest fire through the doors of the pack house and out the backyard.

"What in goddess' name is happening here?" Her green almond eyes zeroed to my now bleeding wrist to the still hysteric girl that now sat on the floor with her favourite plush toy next to her, except it's head now hung loose and a few loose cotton balls and threads lay around.

Mother's eyes widened, almost comical. "Kian Siro Blackwood, what on mother earth have you done to your sister?." She roared, her Luna tone evident in her sentence.

She's not my sister, I wanted to shout. I am the one who's bleeding, I wanted to add but I knew better. I was raised better- scratch that, I was trained better. I furrow my brows looking at my still bleeding wrist, why is it not healing. I was a wolf and had alpha blood running through my veins.

"Shush now child, it's okay. Let's go bake your favourite macaroons." Mother whispered in her ear, loud enough for me to hear and before they turned to leave she said, "your father is waiting for you in the training fields Siro. Don't keep him waiting."

I wanted to run after her and scream my lungs out that I'm sorry, I'm sorry for bullying my 'sister', that I'd do anything not to go to training with father. I wanted to tell her that I really didn't mean to bully their precious angel, I really didn't know how to play with other kids and the only time I got to play and be a kid was when I was bullying my so called sister.

But words failed me, the words that were supposed to come out of my mouth went straight to my heart instead and hardened it.

With a last look on their retreating figures I scowled and turned on my heel heading for the training fields, already knowing that I was late, I was was mentally prepared for my punishment.

Three whips to my back.

Who does that to their twelve year old son?

Father.