I never cared much for those who judge me for who I am and what I do to survive. I am the myth that instills fear into the minds who speak of my name. I am a mere illusion to many who call my name; they call me the Demon Wolf. I am an Alpha; many don't dare cross. Those who have spoken ill of my name have lost their tongues. Everyone over the years has turned away out of fear. I have been persecuted like a witch. Left out to dry and die.
'Kael, do you think we will ever find a true mate?' my wolf says, daydreaming.
'You are like a love-sick puppy, Knox!' I grumble. No wonder we don't get anything done, always pondering a mate. Having a mate is the least of our concerns.
Knox grumbles, 'But we deserve love, Kael!'
Kael becomes agitated, 'Do you think I don't know that!?' I was well aware of the love I wanted. To have someone love me for who I am and not my story would be a meracle. The topic always makes me sink into depression. I am nothing more than a rogue to them, I live outside normal pack society. I might be a beast, but I'm not a heartless killer.
Knox huffs with a whimper, 'I just want to feel wanted for once.' The fear and absolute terror we see on the face of the others in our presence. The way they tremble. We are nothing but a monster when they see me coming.
'I know, I know, buddy. Oh god, how I know!' My face fell, finding my eyes fixed on the floor in despair. I should be used to this dread by now. I have lived with it for 28 years now. My heart yearns for understanding, to be genuinely wanted.