The NewBreeder

Sitting in front of my mirror, my reflection staring back at me, I double check my appearance to make sure that I will leave a good impression today. My straight chestnut-coloured hair is piled on top of my head into a perfect bun and the off-the-shoulder blush coloured top and high-waisted black lace skirt that adorn my body hopefully portrays me as a confident young she-wolf that is ready to take on her role in this pack.

Last month, I had just turned sixteen, the age a wolf finds their role in their pack and—possibly—their mate. It is the time when all wolves are deemed “adults” in our community. An age when a she-wolf can choose to give up school and start a family with her mate if she so desires or choose a career path to help provide necessary jobs for their packs. In the eyes of the werewolf nation, any wolf aged sixteen that has shifted to their wolf form is able to take on responsibility and help with furthering the success of their pack. How we are granted these chances and opportunities is at the monthly pack meeting on the first of the month. Since I had missed out on last month’s meeting due to my birthday being three days after the pack meeting, I was unable to obtain my pack position. But today, I will be taking my place as a functioning adult in Pine Paw. I couldn’t help but smile at my reflection in excitement at the prospect of working and gaining respect from all, of no longer being deemed a pup and too young to participate in pack business. As of today, I will be able to become something more.

My eyes shot over to the picture of my cousin Chris and I in our wolves taped to the mirror. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my cousin will be there to support me no matter what role I received from the Alpha. Just after my birthday, when I first shifted into wolf form, Chris and I had gone for a run in the forest surrounding our territory. His idea was to get me accustomed to being on four legs instead of two. I remember Chris' black wolf form towering over my blue-white fur with black-tipped paws in the warm early-spring sunlight that the month of May had to offer that day, and the annoyance I felt knowing that I still have a few more years to continue growing into my wolf form while he could easily take me down. I looked like a pup compared to my cousin but being able to run around the territory and enjoy the early morning sun in wolf form felt incredible. There's no better feeling for a werewolf than your four paws pounding on the forest floor with the smell of the new leaves on the trees, the crisp pine, and the scattered scents of prey all around you. As a werewolf in wolf form, you feel complete in the forest.

On that day, with Chris chasing me around like we were a pair of pups, I finally felt that sense of being whole.

“Laina, let’s go before we’re late.” Chris yells impatiently, snapping me out of my thoughts. Chris’s voice carries from the foyer where I know he waits, most likely with a look of annoyance directed at me all the way up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror and adjusting my shirt, I sigh, stand from my seat to look around for some shoes, and slip on a pair of knee-high black boots. I grab my cell phone from the desk beside the door while rushing out the room and scurry down the hallway.

“I'm coming!” I reply back to my cousin, hurrying down the stairs to where he waits for me. One thing that is annoying about Chris is his need to always be on time. Chris is what I like to call “time O.C.D.” when it comes to being punctual. He would forget where he put his phone down and forget where the keys to his car were, but he will never fail to be early to a function or event. One example of Chris' habit of being early would be just a couple of years ago when we went to the movie theatre to see the live-action remake of “Beauty and the Beast.” You can just imagine Jack and I waiting for an hour on Chris to find his wallet and car keys. He was running around the house like a chicken with its head chopped off only for the three of us to be miraculously two hours early to the movie because Chris had planned ahead that day for a late-night viewing. Needless to say, by the time the movie started to play, the bag of popcorn in my hands was a soggy, inedible mess for my pre-teen self to enjoy. I spent the entire movie with buttery hands and a bag of gross popcorn that I had since discarded on the floor.

“You look amazing.” Chris gushes as I descend the final steps of the staircase and come to stand before him, doing a slight spin for my cousin to approve of my outfit. He has a look of pride in his amber eyes, ones that nearly cause tears to spill from mine. I did everything with my cousin Chris, who acted as a brother, a parent, and a best friend. His approval meant the world to me, especially with today being the next step in my adult life as a functioning member of this pack. His mate, Jack, saunters over, giving me a once-over and a wink before snuggling into Chris’s side with a contented smile on his face.

“Thank you. You two look amazing as well.” I reply with a blush as I take in the two complimenting each other with black slacks and button-down shirts of similar shades of blue. Jack and Chris are the first openly gay mates in the pack that had come out about ten years ago. This pairing had started a bit of a rift amongst the pack when the two had found each other while on a run in the forest. I remember the excitement Chris had when he came home that night. He whisked my sleeping form out of my princess bed at ten o'clock at night to make me a plate full of chocolate chip pancakes just to talk about coming across a grey wolf during his run through the forest. He couldn't tell who this wolf was, only that he knew just by scent that the two of them were meant to be mates.

At six years old, I remember sitting at the kitchen island, trying to stay awake with the knowledge of my cousin finding his prince charming and the scent of chocolate in the air. My parents were furious with my cousin, stating that a pup needed to sleep when they caught me red-handed with half a plate full of pancakes and a chattery Chris. But there was also a look of pride and excitement for him before they promptly ushered me into bed, while Chris promised to tell me more the next day after a pack meeting.

It was at that very pack meeting where Chris and Jack bumped into each other and, as if it were a scene out of a movie, Chris and Jack both exclaimed the word, "Mate!" Apparently, there was a huge uproar afterwards, with the pack in disbelief that two strong male wolves who could produce strong pups were mated to each other. For the next few days, I remembered the pack being tense and Chris explaining that he had to sneak out at night to see his mate because our pack was trying to keep Chris and Jack apart. I was heartbroken for my cousin, the man who told me stories about mates and how they are our other halves that we cannot live without. I remembered in kindergarten when this boy in class said his mother called Chris a freak and how I got in trouble for punching that kid in the face.

It wasn’t until the previous Alpha had stepped in and stopped any and all complaints before any other incidents occurred that could harm the pack. He admitted to everyone that same-sex mates are legal in the werewolf community and gave the chance for others to flourish in their love life. It was the Moon Goddess’ blessing and intent to pair mates of the same-sex together, so who were they, the pack, to judge. With the Alpha giving Chris and Jack his blessing, more and more wolves who had admitted they had yet to find their mates soon came out as pairs. It soon became normal to see openly gay and lesbian couples around the pack, and I couldn’t help but beam with pride at how accepting my pack is to change. Chris and Jack’s relationship is quite sweet in a Romeo-and-Juliet kind of way in the beginning, with most of their families and pack members being against their mating. But the two persevered and kept strong. The only difference from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet is that no one died in our pack for my cousin to be happy with his mate.

“Now, let’s hurry up before we are late. That is not a way to start off as a working member of this pack.” Jack states a little too cheerily and grabs both Chris’s and my wrist, dragging us out the door and into the car. The pack house is about a half an hour drive from where we live, used for meetings, special occasions and for warriors and wolves without mates to live with. If it weren’t for Chris and Jack being my family and guardians, I would have been living at the pack house long ago since my parents’ deaths. Slowly, the big mansion comes into view and the drive comes to an end with the car coming to a stop in the parking lot and the three of us getting out in front of the old Victorian building. The nerves that have been missing this entire morning decide to make themselves present now while I climb out of the car, taking in the large number of pack members hanging around.

“Remember, you are to mingle with the other wolves while the Alpha assigns you to your position. Who knows, maybe you are his soul mate,” Chris encourages me, kissing my forehead before he and Jack walk away to join the other parents and guardians. I smile sadly as I watch wolves my age talk to their parents one last time, wishing for once that my own had survived the rogue attack ten years ago so they could stand here and give me the advice to calm the nerves that send my heart into an unsteady rhythm. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath, sighing wistfully one last time before turning towards the building and heading inside with a brave smile on my face. Mom always told me to never show my true emotions when in a crowd of wolves. The strong prey on the weak, and I refuse to show any weakness.

As I enter the building, I am taken aback by the sheer amount of wolves my age, each ready to take on their responsibilities in this pack. Everyone is dressed in their best attire, hoping to leave a good impression as we all aim for the highest position possible. Many of the females have put a lot of consideration into their attire, switching their short shorts in the summer here for conservative dresses, blouses and slacks. Only the few females who aim to climb the pack hierarchy are dressed in revealing clothing, most likely trying to catch the attention of a Warrior, a Theta, or even the Alpha. But we all have one position we do not want to obtain: the Breeder.

Breeders are the she-wolves assigned to become the pup producers in the pack. Their job is to allow the mateless warriors of Pine Paw to breed them, with no say in who their partner is during the current breeding period. Its intended purpose is to add more wolves to the pack population and bring about stronger wolves for the next generation. Many wolves believe it to be an honourable position a she-wolf can obtain, but we all know the truth. Once you become a Breeder, you are nothing more than a slave, a tool for men to use your body for their own pleasure while they rape you into producing the next lot of pups for the pack. If you ask me, it is a barbaric way to increase the pack’s population, but the chosen she-wolves have no say in their position of a Breeder and no say in ending this barbaric job. To say that the slim chance of being chosen for this position scares me is an understatement. I am terrified for any she-wolf, myself included, that might receive this position. Knowing that for the next part of their life, the she-wolf will be a slave until she produces the specified amount of twenty pups for the pack. It is a life of isolation and even torture and I send a silent prayer to the Goddess that I do not receive this role.

While everyone else mingles about the pack house, chatting about what positions they wish to receive and the lucky ones exclaiming when finding their soulmate, I stick to myself and make my way to a corner of the room where I can be left alone. Most people my age tend to enjoy mingling and talking to one another, but I always felt like an outcast. No one wanted to be friends with the she-wolf that lost her parents and was raised by two male wolve. No one wants to talk to a she-wolf who fights back when homophobic slurs are said. And so I sit and watch the room, waiting for when I can greet the Alpha.

The scent of perfume and cologne is strong with everyone together in such a closed-off space but it makes it easier to discern who belongs to which faction. The wolves standing by the punch bowl -most likely spiked with some form of alcohol – that smell like a grade eight locker room where boys use Axe as a shower-in-a-can are the ones built for power. Each male wolf built with muscle-on-muscle will become a Warrior and climb the ranks as they train and defend our pack. For now, these six-teen year olds fangirl about some sports game that was on last night and who won.

The group of small wolves that do their best to blend into the background with little to no scent on them will be Omegas. They will do the regular work around the pack from cooking and cleaning to taking care of the daycare and little pups. These Omegas are what we refer to as the working class since some of them will also help run the companies owned by the pack by doing a nine-to-five job like regular humans.

Then there is a group of wolves that fit between the Omegas and Warriors: I call them the Acolytes. They’re standing by the bookshelves and seem to be in a heated debate about some type of medical theory. These Acolytes will fill in positions such as Pack Doctors, Nurses, Architects, builders and any task that requires in-depth schooling and specialized research and planning. We can't rely on humans to help build our community and risk exposing the werewolf race, so these wolves take the place of any jobs that require any university or college degree. If it weren’t for my Alpha and Beta bloodline where I may become a mate to either an Alpha or Beta, I would be considered an Acolyte and part of that debate.

Taking a seat on an armchair once I reach my destination to the corner with a window I can stare out of, I spot the Alpha talking to a few girls who try their best at looking coy and sexy before him. I always wondered how pushing your body against a male would benefit a she-wolf other than being used and taken advantage of, but I made no comment of their behaviour. I preferred working hard for the things I wanted and being independent. The idea of needing a strong male to take care of and protect me like a precious doll seemed a little old-fashioned to me. It’s not that I don’t want whoever my mate is, but I crave being independent more. Christ jokes around saying that it’s the Alpha blood in me wanting to be respected and not under someone else’s control.