Chapter three.

That is my life. Everyday is just, but frankly excitedly spent with my family. I own the Carmelo in the depth of my heart. They are just that cute, and loving. Without them, I wonder how my life will turn out to become — most certainly wrecked, and torn.

Charlotte takes father's trunk out everyday to the office. I think in the next promotion, which will be by the ending of this year, she should get her own car, and house if she's to be part of those promoted.

I love her spirit at work, so undoubtedly, I'm sure she should be picked. It's one of the reasons, these days she's getting worked up, but then, she's Charlotte, she still has her fun...unlike me.

I always sit next to her, on the passenger seat while she drives. I can drive too, but the enjoyment of watching the passing nature fascinates me. Just seeing as the world moves backwards in a somewhat way, makes me imagine myself getting ahead in life. For some reason, it serves as motivation to me.

The drive to the shop is short. While it last, Charlotte and I had small talks. It was mostly about the stress from her work. I feel her pain, my face solemn as she explains. She's trying to pull things together, and yet, the stress doesn't show on her face. She's just that damn strong.

I alight, and wave her a later bye. We share smiles, and then, I turn to my another starting day of work. Entering the shop, it isn't crowded. Looking at the time, I find myself almost an hour late.

Brendan will be pissed, but I don't give that much of a damn thing. I'm an easy going person, but there's this bug in me that doesn't like ridicule, I hate when people want to take me for granted for being gentle-looking. I am cool, and all, but I don't allow rubbish.

"And why are you late this time, Kathryn?" Ask my boss, Brendan. We are of the same age. And he lives at the neighbouring street — Academy, I think the street's name is.

"I'm sorry. I went to get something for mother, and before I got back, I realized it's late." I give him the puppy eyes. I'm bad at lying, but he's buying this one with no choice. He didn't really equip me to work, I volunteered. And since he pays me, that makes him officially my boss, but at the same time, I'm independent.

"Okay. Just go get the remaining customers their order." He says, and leaves. The way he gaits makes his waist break from left to right, and vice versa, making it look like he's twerking. It's funny to me everytime I observe it.

He's quite simple today. His dress is just a plain nylon red shirt, and black trousers. He accompanies it with a polished brown shoe, and matching face cap. His dressing is cute on him, and hugs tightly, bringing out his hunky figure. I don't blame Charlotte for having a thing on him. More also, his dyed-to-brown hair, and green eyes is superb.

Back to business, my legs motion my body to behind the counter where I grab an apron from the shorter rack, so I don't have to be on my toes to grab it. I'm averagely short, a four feet and seven inches type of girl.

To my left on the wooden worktop, I grab a handful of popcorn, and chew them in my mouth all at once. My mouth pops out such that when an order came from a table, I could only answer with a muffled, as-though-strangled tone.

"A chocolate coffee here, please." It was a man's voice.

Seeing his grey hair, I pin his chiseled face inside my head, and go get his order.

"Yes, coming!" I am able to reply with once swallowed. Getting the man's chocolate coffee, I place it on the silvery serving tray, and move to his table.

Getting there, I place it down, and smile at him, "have an enjoyable morning, Sir."

He chuckles at what I said, "I will. Thanks." From the look of things, I think he's an outsider to this town. Maybe outsiders do come around here.

Once done, I go back to where I belong — behind the booth, and arrange things, getting to work to prepare more coffees, and getting the ingredients for eclectic types of tea ready.

Chapter four.

Anthony's POV

They should just let me be. I don't want to understand what brought them here in the first place.

Minutes ago, one of my men had entered into this room to report to me that the Elders are here. Currently, I'm standing opposite to the lengthy, up-to-down french window. The curtains are pulled apart, a scenery of the outside clear to my sight.

My body is positioned in a way that seems like I'm staring out through the window, but instead, I'm deeply in thoughts.

I might be the strongest Werewolf in this pack — which is the known surviving pack, others probably dead — but the Elders are my tacklers.

We, Werewolves respect the old ones, it's been our tradition, and for that, the Elders have a pick on me. They come and go as they like.

Now, they are climbing up the red carpeted stairs to meet him here in the dining room. I prepare myself to listen to whatever odd saying they have to share. I just hate them, and I'm happy that they know that.

In my opinion, they aren't Elders. If they were, they wouldn't have allowed the Werewolf species to go separated, they wouldn't have made us almost go in extinct, and they wouldn't have left when they are most needed.

They are just that useless. And now that I managed to arrange the pack and make us align as the odd ways, they want to complain. At least, that's what I suppose they are here for.

What else could it be?

Just then, the double handle door opens widely, enough for the three men to walk in. Their eyes are cast ahead, as though it itsn't me they have come for.

Esposito, the leader of the Elders — the three men, I mean — is the leading figure, the other two following behind him with one step back.

He has his hair brushed to the back...such old-fashioned way of brushing hair. Though, I wouldn't lie to say that it does fit his features. His gelled black hair is long such that it reaches his shoulders, his deep black brows are thick and sharpened, his obsidian eyes are to die for in the evilness I guess they carry, and matching it with his porcelain skin, it makes him look exactly like the devil. He is in his usual black robe, the hood covering most of his face.

By his right is Ricci, the one who is nicknamed to be Esposito's Beta. He is wearing a black robe as well, the hood partially covers his head, leaving his brown hair to show, clearly. His amber eyes glows lowly underneath the shades that his concrete, warm ivory face forms.

He is the most terrifying looking man you'll ever see. My wolf chuckles inside of my head. I shuffle him in. The Elders are specialist, and extremely skilled. They'll sense him, and his sarcasm...that wouldn't just end up good for us. As much as I still respect them, I won't allow them to overthrow me. I know that's what they want.

By the left is the smiley face Omega. He just never stops smiling, which makes it hard to read his expressions since I can read their mind. They are that strong.

Caesar is also wearing hood, but unlike the others, he has his to be pulled down to behind his neck. Well, he has nothing to hide anymore since his smile already hid them.

His green eyes, mixing with his dyed green hair, which are combed to the front and whipped to the left, is a nice combination. His chestnut skin is in glowing by the effect of the light, entering.

The three of them comes to a stop at the other end of the dining table. I bow lightly, and they do. They have to. I am the King, they know that, so they have got no choice. In my own case, bowing at them shows my respect for their lifetime, and how much knowledge they have with them.

"Please, take a seat." My wolf is gazing at them within my body, calculating what's possibly passing through their head. One thing is sure though, they won't start a physical fight here.

"We have not come here for that." Esposito is quick to respond, his tone resonating across the room. He is that loud.

Hearing a fluffy sound, my eyes catches Caesar just when he plops down, and picks an apple from the center of the table.

Esposito's eyes wander to him as well. "What? I didn't climb those stairs just to stand here when there's more than five chairs here." Caesar complains.

"We have come here for something—" Esposito stops talking when a low crunching sound comes from Caesar. He looks down at him again, then back up at me, and continues. My wolf wants to laugh. To him, they are old wolf, still stupid at sixty...you know the saying. But in actuality, they are more than a hundred and fifty years old.

"You know the rules of the moon goddess..." I mock that. They created the rules, "and you know that we are not exclude it. For you to be the rightful Alpha to all Werewolves, you need a Werewolf mate, you need your Luna." The finishes as though I hadn't known that before.

I breath out, keeping my cool. "I'm the rightful Alpha, we all know that—"

"No, we, your Elders, don't." He cuts in, stopping me mid-sentence.

"Will you just stop this already? I have the Alpha blood run through my veins. My father was an Alpha before you let the Hunters kill him."

"He was a sub-Alpha." That just makes me want to laugh so badly. They are sub-Alphas, and Alpha but that will be an explanation for another day.

"Which I know of, but then, he fought when you all wouldn't, when you all disappeared. What was your excuse again?" My tone is mocking. They are becoming angry, especially Esposito, followed by Ricci. I don't think Caesar is even listening as he's chewing the fruit in his hand. "My father, and other sub-Alphas fought the Hunters, including myself. If I don't have what it takes to lead, how do you think I was able to save most of our species. I even saved them from the Humans. You all did nothing. And till now, you are still doing nothing. They are many of Werewolves out there, living in the dark because they are afraid of what might see in the light, and because of this, we are dying every day."

I breath out, and continue. "and now you're asking me to find my mate. Newsflash, I haven't found her. Maybe she's out there, living in the hide as well, I don't know. Maybe she's dead, I don't even know. I don't even know if the moon goddess is still behind us. I know nothing, but one thing; it is to protect the remaining men I have with me. I'll protect this pack, so you leave them to me."

I roll my eyes at my next words, "what am I even saying, it's not like you ever cared for any of us. And now you want to evict me, they won't allow. They won't agree." And I do hear that majority wins the vote.

Thanks to my wolf, I'm not out of breaths, neither am I tried at all. I'm just fed up of all talk, repeating the same thing over and over and over again, each and every time they come here to threaten me.

"You have said your mind, little wolf." The leader, Esposito says, as his eyes glow more. His black orbs releases are glister of pink colour, very tiny at the middle of his lens. He walks over to me, as he continues to say, his voice is no where near being gentle, yet it seems like it. He is threatening me, but not at the same time, instead as if he's making a declaration.

"We are the Elders, and you know just little of what we are capable of. You don't want to play in this game, little wolf. Continue to rule for the next four moons, probably if you have a mate by then, we'll let you continue the post. We do not need it. We are powerful than that." He accolades, "and if the pack won't allow us to evict you, then we'll either dominate them, or we find you a good role." The way he finishes his words shows his amusement. This is all a child play them. Remind me again their ages. A hundred and fifty wolf like themselves will most likely act like a child.

His lips are tugged upwards, letting a smirk reveals. He pat my left shoulder, and turns to his back. Nodding, he leaves, and the other two follows behind him. Though, not without Caesar, saying in a hushed voice.

"The apple was nice. Keep more for me when we do come back." After he says, that's when I notice that he's finished all dozen of them in the basket. Most Werewolves are food-monger, they deal with eating food like there's no tomorrow. That's just one of our nature that most possesses.