Alpha Vaughan

Latent

•Copyright

©All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Warning: this book is rated 18+ and is not suitable for readers under the ages of 18.

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Six years ago...

The Alpha of the Stillmoon pack stood in the shadows and surveyed his three daughters. All between the ages of eleven and thirteen, they carelessly played underneath the silvery shine of the moonlight alongside other pack-children.

Their excited shrieks and gleeful laughter were washed out into discomfiting silence by his thoughts.

At a night like this, the Alpha would've looked upon the ethereally beautiful faces of his daughters-- and cursed the moongoddess. Cursed her for not allowing his mate live long enough to bear him a son.

But tonight was different.

At that moment his eyes left the little forms of his daughters to watch the departing figure of the pack Seer. She'd revealed a lot tonight, a lot to douse his burning bitterness against fate and have his hard, unbelieving heart start to reluctantly believe that maybe, just maybe, all hope wasn't lost for his pack.

Even now the Seer's words flitted into his mind, forcing him to comprehend the grave importance of what she'd revealed-- or failed to reveal completely.

As was expected with all oracles of the Moongoddess, glibness and ambiguity were prominent attributes they identified by. Where he stood, he still struggled to grasp the full meaning of her message.

'A daughter from your loins that equals a hundred sons. . .' she'd said.

After being told this he hadn't bothered as much about having only daughters; not If having one of them could be the same as owning a hundred sons...

'A daughter of your ilk that equals two kingdoms. . .'

His mouth watered greedily at the promise of such immense power. It was almost too good to be true; a mere daughter of his wielding such power, and going from ruling a small, insignificant pack in the fringes of Alaska to having a shot at owning two kingdoms.

But if it was anything life had taught him early on, it was that if something was too good to be true-- it probably was.

But an opportunity like that blithely falling onto his lap... He would do anything to get it. Among other things it would mean protection, and he would need that now the Hunters were forming alliances with vampire factions...

'A girl of might to bring untold wins and riches to our pack. . .'

A girl of might, the Alpha thought distantly. Two of his daughters already fit that description. But the third... A dark scowl marred his handsome face. It disappeared when his gaze fell on his first daughter.

Anna. She'd shifted into her wolf at a very early age, a mere five, when, originally, werewolves began turning into their beasts at seven. And he, along with quite possibly the rest of the pack, had sensed a raging power in her wolf just waiting to be honed.

Shea, his second, although had turned into her wolf at the regular age, had displayed a rare talent In finding the pack's livestock that had gone missing for three months. Without aid or assistance, she'd traced them down to the birch that had concealed them, and brought them back to the pack safely. A potential expert tracker.

His grey eyes shifted to the last of his daughters-- for a moment they flashed a fervid yellow. And his fangs: they expressed his displeasure by sharpening to dangerous points.

His third was useless, the runt of the litter. As if to express his point, the group of children she'd been playing with all shifted into their wolves and went on to go for a run in the pack forest, while she watched their retreating figures with a broken expression on her face, her thin shoulders hunched.

Why? Because she couldn't change into her wolf. She was a Latent.

A low snarl escaped his bared teeth. He should do away with her. Such an embarrassment was bad for his pack's reputation. And as if fate had decided that giving him a Latent for a daughter was not punishment enough, it had made her completely inherit her late mother's looks.

The midnight black hair. The cobalt blue eyes. The petite frame. Everything.

His palms fisted. Although he hadn't loved his mate enough for their bond to deepen and her death to affect him to the point he turned rogue or took his life, he had cared for her. Cared enough to despise any reminder of her whatsoever after her passing.

When the Alpha had asked the Seer which of his daughters would fulfil the prophecy, why, and how, her reply had been:

"Hilda... Only she can thaw the ice. After her nineteenth birthday, Alpha, take her along with you to the Festival of Lanterns. There, Fate's will will be set to motion."

Present day.

Alaska

.

The sound of someone popping their gum filled the small room. "Nope, pass," Eunice, my bosom--but no less aggravating--friend said.

"How about this one?" I stifled a longsuffering sigh, holding up yet another ensemble from my closet.

She casted her gaze heavenwards. "Hilda," she groaned. "You've been displaying just about the same type of clothes for the past ten hours."

She was right, about the clothes. But there was one thing she was wrong about. "It's been just two hours, not ten."

She leaned against the wall defeatedly. "Well it feels like it."

I balled up the green top in my hands and threw it towards her direction. It landed splat on her face. "Stop being a spoilsport and come help me look for what to wear."

"It'll be no use," she grumbled. Just like my entire existence.

Already knowing the answer, I still asked anyway, "How so?"

"Because your closet's filled with just jean shorts and T-shirts. No gowns."

"No occasion's ever come up for me to wear one." I pointed at her. "You know that."

She knew. Having gowns meant you had special occasions to wear them to. Parties. Luncheons. Pack conferences. Dinners.

Luxuries I couldn't afford.

While my sisters went to different events after the other, I stayed back in the pack-house, hidden away, until I'd memorised every single corner and chip in the walls. I was, in all essence, father's little, dirty secret.

"What are we gonna do now," she asked

I rose a shoulder in a shrug. "I could borrow one from you."

She gave me a deadpan look.

Eunice didn't own a lot of dresses either; she was an Omega. And I was as good as one, if not worse than one. Omegas were the lowliest of the lowliest, the bottom of the pack hierarchy, the ones who cooked, cleaned-- did everything beneath the notice and capabilities of the higher tiers.

And I was lower than one, because even Omegas could shift into their wolves...

Being Latent was a curse that had followed me through the complicated stages of childhood through adulthood, a scar on my very soul. And I had, inevitably, sustained a few monikers during my formative years. Latent Hilda, Latilda and Hilda de Lat, to name a few.

My gaze slid towards the single window in the room. Lights from the watchtowers lining the rear ramparts flashed around, casting the forest surrounding the pack-house in a dark, gloomy shadow-- although I could still see it as clear as day. Courtesy of my wolf's night vision. I was Latent, but not without the better powers and baser urges of a werewolf.

At that moment a blade of light sliced in through the tiny window, and fell on a spot in the middle of the cramped room. It looked inviting. Tired of ransacking my closet for clothes I won't find, I went over and sat on it.

Eunice stirred from her prone position on the narrow bed, an eyelid flicking open to reveal green eyes. "Why are you sitting?"

"Because I want to?"

"But we've got a party to attend."

"A plan that was entirely your idea."

"Yes." Her eyes suddenly flashed with determination; I grew weary. "It was my plan," she proclaimed, "and I'll see to it that you go out with me to celebrate your nineteenth birthday."

Sigh. Whenever Eunice got it into her head to do something, she went through with it with the determination a teenage boy asking a girl out for prom.

It was my birthday, surprise, surprise. And I planned to do nothing about it, unsurprise, unsurprise. I would treat it as the other pack-members did-- like another normal, bland Wednesday. If not one that was a little more bland than was usual.

As opposed to me, whenever either one of my sisters had their birthdays, dad threw massive parties for them. The only thing dad threw where I was concerned were massive, physically--and emotionally--crippling pain.

Like that time I was thirteen...

My muscles acted on base instinct, seizing in preparation for danger. But there was none, only a vivid remembrance of what it felt like to have lethal wolfsbane pumped into my veins. Agonizing.

Dad had pumped wolfsbane into me, expecting my dormant wolf to shift on instinct and protect its human. But it hadn't. And dad hadn't relented from pumping the burning liquid into my body, either, until I, well, passed out from the pain.

I hadn't known who I hated more then, my dad who continued with the torture for four consecutive years, or my wolf who never shifted to put me out of my misery.

"Hellooooo," someone yelled, and snapped a finger in front of my face. "Earth to Hilda! You're doing that thing where you space out and your face looks like you just drank wolfsbane."

The irony of her sentence wasn't lost to me. The whole pack, including Eunice, didn't know about dad injecting wolfsbane into me, but they did know about his open hostility towards me-- and did well to play it forward so they could get on his good graces.

They had all been harsh, cruel, and the few ones that couldn't bring themselves to prey on innocent me, ignored my whole existence. Fine by me.

For a long while, things remained the same, until one day I'd decided I'd had enough. I'd decided to fight back.

The violent pushing at highschool during lunch break, the humiliating pranks, the overwhelming gossipy laughter and mocking jokes, the hate... All stopped when I finally put in all that pent anger into good use. And fought back.

At first my strength had depended solely on the level of my anger, and I'd fought like a rogue wolf, sloppily, without practice, and was easily beaten much to the amusement of my bullies.

But then, given to the fact I knew the pack-house like the back of my palm, and knew every secret hideout there was-- I'd started spying on the pack warriors during their training....

I'd learned, practiced, honed my skills. Fought. And f*cked shit up like a newly turned rogue.

"Aha!" Eunice exclaimed gleefully, holding up a piece of clothing.

She walked towards me, excitedly waving the dress high up in the air like it was a victory flag. When she stood before me, she allowed the dress slip from her fingers and fall onto my lap.

My hands felt the soft fabric as I examined it. The white slip dress still had its price tag. Distantly I thought aloud, "I can't remember ever buying a dress like this. Someone must have gifted it to me, but then again who wou-- oh!" I exclaimed. "I think I know who it's from."

Shea. She'd given this to me during my eighteenth birthday. Of my two sisters, Shea was the nicest. When her heavily demanding tracking duty would allow her, she'd always check up on me. At highschool, she was the sister that always told the bullies off whenever they grew too harsh, the sister that sometimes got me out of scrapes. And the sister who actually cared for me.

Sadly the same couldn't be said about Anna.

"It was from Shea," I told Eunice. "She'd given it to me for my eighteenth birthday."

A smile formed on her lips. "Shea, ever so nice."

Yeah, Shea was the nice and considerate one. Anna the moody and closed off one. And I, I was the vulnerable and too trusting one who hid everything behind a steely exterior and a vacant stare.

"Come on. Come try it on," Eunice urged, going over to the full-length mirror on the dresser.

I followed, saying, "It was given to me two years ago. I doubt my ass would fit into it."

"You're so thin now, your ass would fit into anything," she replied offhandedly.

"Including Gerad Justin's hands?"

Through the mirror I saw her roll her eyes. "Gerad. Is a jerk."

Yeah, I knew. It hadn't stopped me from crushing on him though. Being the school's football team's captain, the beta's son, a six foot hunk and a certified bad boy, he'd had an embarrassing amount of girls trailing after him at highschool. Including me.

Werewolves began finding their mates at eighteen. At exactly that age I'd looked into Gerad Justin's eyes and was crushed to realize he wasn't my mate. He'd probably looked into mine and thought, 'f*ck. Another one of those weirdos', not aware of the emotional turmoil going on inside me.

But all that was in the past. I'd graduated, gotten over him, and tried to get over the fact that I'd never find my mate. He wasn't in the Stillmoon pack, that I was sure of, and I couldn't travel out to other packs. Dad wouldn't let me.

Although, it wasn't like I was in a rush to find my mate or anything. Thinking about it now, I didn't even want to. No one deserved to be shackled to a Latent.

As I undressed, I listened to Eunice's excited chattering.

"...and next tomorrow's just around the corner, Hil! Alphas are going to be there! Betas an--"

I interjected, "How come you're always excited about the Festival of Lanterns, even knowing you're never going to go to Beastclaw?"

Her eyes dimmed, and for a moment I was overcome with guilt at having ruined her mood.

"For one, it's more like a tradition now, Hil. Celebrating it here would be the same as celebrating it at the Beastclaw pack. Here we'd also have lanterns lighted around until it looked like day at night, there'd be beer and salmon at every dinning table, the trees would bear the fresh imprints of claw marks, and howls would fill the night at twelve." She breathed in, saying on a sad note, "The only difference would be that we wouldn't have alphas and betas from different packs around the world come here."

I paused in taking off my top. "And that is a bad thing?"

She blinked. "Of course."

"Eunice, Betas and Alphas are callous, conceited, and think they own the world." Take it from my father, and every other Alpha and their second that have come to our pack to negotiate deals with him. "It is a blessing we don't have an army of them come here each year."

Countering my earlier statement, Eunice enunciated, "Wrong. The beta of the Beastclaw pack--the largest werewolf pack in existence, mind you--is known to be kind and humble."

I rose a brow. "The beta? What about the Alpha; what about Vaughan Lupus?"

Quiet filled the space between us. Eunice's stance wavered for a bit. Then with a glare directed my way, she turned away from me.

That's what I thought. . .

After I'd finished dressing up, I took stock of myself in the full-length mirror.

The virginal white slipdress draped around me lovingly, molding my figure into something prim and elegant. My midnight black hair was let to cascade down my shoulders in dark waves, and my makeup was done flawlessly; my lips were a blood red, and the pearls dangling from my ears shone scarlet.

Coupled with my pale skin, I probably looked like some vampire male's daydream. Couldn't be farther from the truth...

I wasn't a daydream, a nightmare was more like it-- I lived in one until I couldn't tell myself apart from the demons that haunted me.

"You look stunning," I told Eunice, coming out of my thoughts.

A curt thank you met my statement. I took it to mean she was still mad at me over our earlier disagreement.

"Come over let me do your hair," I offered.

She replied with a short, "I can handle it."

"I could do your makeup if you want."

"I don't."

A sigh left my lips. I tried to make my voice sound light. "Come on, Euni. You seriously can't be mad at me for giving my honest opinions."

The sound of her hairbrush hitting the table filled the cramped room. "Mad? I'm not mad at you for giving your 'honest opinions,'" she said.

"Then why are you giving me the cold shoulder? You are mad at me, admit i--"

"Alright, no!" she bursted out.

"What?" my tone was confused.

She stood. "I'm not mad at you for speaking your mind, I'm mad at you for being the way you are."

"The way I... am?"

"Yes." Her green gaze locked in on mine. "Distrustful, cynical, jaded. Pessimistic. You're never ready to see the good in people."

I was getting riled. "By people I hope you don't mean Vaughan Lupus."

"And if I do?"

"Then, Euni, I'd congratulate you for being the most stupid-sounding person alive."

Her eyes flashed yellow. "Stupid?! I'm stupid? Wh--"

"I mean--you don't even know him!"

"Neither do you!"

"Yeah, but I've heard rumors. He's cursed, Euni! A ruthless, coldblooded killer!"

My ringing statement hung in the tense air for moments, before she straightened and gave me a glare. "Rumors are just that--rumors."

A hot sigh left my lips. Shutting my eyes for a brief moment, I opened them and sent a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes her way. In a measured tone, I said, "Can we, just, not do this? It's my birthday today and I'd like to not spend it arguing with my best friend."

Her demeanor cracked a bit, then after a while she gave a small nod

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The engine revved and sputtered at length before Eunice's old Volkswagen pulled out of the driveway.

"So, where do we go to?" I asked, looking ahead at the road.

Squinting as she drove, she thought aloud, "I'd say... K-nine, but I should think, with all the preparations for the Festival of Lanterns coming up, every immortal club would be closed for the day."

"Then, we go to a mortals club instead," I suggested.

She pursed her lips hesitantly for a second. "Alright."

Mingling with mortals was frowned upon, among other things we could be in danger of being captured by Hunters-- human immortal-extremists.

They captured werewolves and vampires alike, locking them up in heavily sealed cages: and then they experimented on them in their labs for weaknesses. A shiver ran down my spine. The captives rarely got out alive, and the ones who did... wished they'd died.

I didn't have an idea what went down in those labs, but something told me it was worse than having just wolfsbane injected into your--

"....Earth to Hilda!"

A squeak left my lips. I turned wide eyes towards Eunice.

"You're doing that thing where you space out and look like you've just drank wolf--"

"I get it, I get it." Getting a grip of myself, I asked, "What? Were you saying something?"

"Yeah." She faced forward and swallowed. "Something about how there might be a teeny, tiny possibility that this might be a bad idea."

Using my middle finger, I tucked my hair behind my ear. I did this whenever I got nervous. "You mean, because of the Hunters?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we haven't heard any report of them since they were spotted at a bar in Newhalen last year. So, I'm pretty sure there's absolutely nothing to worry about."

"You think so?"

"Yes. Now go on," I waved her onwards, "go get your boyfriend to let us through the gates."

"Alright. And, Hil?"

"What?"

"In the boot," she said before going.

We'd stopped at a spot near the pack gates. It was obscured by closely-knit shrubs and tall trees. If you walked to the edge of it and bent a little to the right, you'd see the huge barriers. It was lined with large, burly werewolf warriors. Men carrying ammunition paced back and forth, some chatted and laughed loudly, slapping each other on the back, while some remained in stony silence, their eyes sharp and watchful.

The last time I'd been this close to the gates was six years ago, when I'd tried running away from the pack. I didn't get far though. I'd been brought back kicking and screaming to father, and his syringe filled with wolfsbane.

I swallowed. Opening the boot, I got in, leaving it open.

My dad, although not wanting to have anything to do with me, had his men watch my every move and report to him my whereabouts. Didn't want his little secret getting out of the bag... Or pack-house. I snorted, then sobered up. If he found out I went out of the pack's vicinity, again, and to attend a mortals club...

I steered my mind away from the thought of what he might do.

Approaching footsteps had me tensing. Seconds dragged by before Eunice's face came into view above me. I released a breath. "What took you so long?"

When a rosy blush coated her cheeks I pretended to throw up. "Euurrgghh. I'd told you to get Jim to open the pack-gates, not your gates."

Her cheeks burned hotter and she positioned her middle finger in front of my face. A giggle left me.

Her face suddenly turned serious. "You sure you'll be able to cope in there?"

I turned sober as well, my pulse starting to beat at a dangerous rate. I gave a small, determined nod. "Yeah."

She nodded as well, then proceeded to close the boot slowly. I was soon blanketed in total darkness.

And the memories came crawling back...