Packs High Warrior: A Short Story

For those of you that don’t know, we’re werewolves. My pack is massive, with just under a thousand members. All of us were made by the Rogues. An evil pack that despises humans, and hates their own human forms. They intend on turning the population of mankind into Lycans. I am the only pack member that has been born of two werewolves. I’m considered a disgrace against nature, the only thing that has kept me from being executed is my half-brother Damion. Damion is the Packs High Warrior. Once I was born, he vouched for me. Keeping me from the headsman. I’m a pureblood, I’m able to transform upon command, unlike my fellow pack members they must wait for the fall of darkness.
“Morals, pft, morals get you killed in this world.” Jax said. “You’re
wrong Jax, morals keep us from becoming true animals!” I shouted. “Jeez Titan, I’m just kidding” He retorted. I’ve always felt uneasy when Jax starts talking about his morality. He’s the only one of the pack that has doesn’t believe in his fellow wolves. Jax is my best friend, he was bitten when he was eight. His mortal life was ended before it had even begun. His mother brought him to the den, local folklore was her guide. The people of the town directly south of us, fear us thanks to those blood thirsty disgraces the Rogues. They have pillaged the town for years, killing hundreds, and leaving their bodies to rot in their wake. We’ve been at war with them since our numbers became large enough to pose a threat. Yet still we lose members every day, either to death or defection. It enrages me to think that we’re forced to kill our own just to stay alive. It isn’t fair. “Hey Titan? You still there buddy?” Jax asked. “Yeah, I guess I must have zoned out” I replied. “You seem to be doing that more often” Jax said. A sense of concern in his voice. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well ever since Damion went missing, you’ve seemed to mentally disappear.” Jax’s voice was flowing with worry. “He’ll be back” I whispered under my breath.