Teivel Hardy

[Teivel]

NAME: Teivel Hardy.
NICKNAMES: Teivel isn’t a name that can be easily translated into any sort of nickname, but that hasn’t stopped the pack and he will answer to Teevs. He also appears to have acquired the name Tefal from some of the more zany members of the pack, for reasons he doesn’t want to question.
RACE: Werewolf – Bitten.
OCCUPATION: Pack Member.
GENDER: Male.
SKIN COLOUR: Caucasian with a subtle tan.
NATIONALITY: French.
AGE: 104, although he looks to be in his late teens physically.
CLOTHING: He holds no deep affection for the past or period clothing like some of the other pack mates and so he will dress in clothes that wouldn’t look out of place on a human teenage of present day, typically dressing in jeans, one or two layers of shirts and if needs be, a hoodie for a jacket. Teivel has never been particularly interested in fashion or clothes, and doesn’t see the need to match or theme them in any way. His outfits tend to lean towards clothing in brown, greys and blacks, dull shades that help him blend into the background, an automatic choice in items, a throw back to his old life but scattered among the shirts are a couple in different shades, such as his favoured red and white chequered button up shirt which he likes for the comfort more than anything else. Teivel is rarely – if ever – seen in anything more formal than dark coloured jeans, although he does own a pair of pants that are not jeans. Teivel owns two pairs of large, over-sized boots that climb a little way up his leg, past his ankle. These are typically worn with the laces mostly undone and tongue hanging loosely out, almost inviting someone to step on them or tip over them.
HEIGHT: 5’10”
WEIGHT: 162lbs.
TATTOOS: Teivel has a single tattoo on his right calf, of a leafless tree with many branches. The roots start just above his ankle with the branches stretching most of the way up his calf, the tattoo placed there long ago by his original pack.

PIERCINGS: None.
JEWELLERY: He wears a brown corded necklace on which hangs an old iron arrowhead, the only link to Europe he has. The only other adornment he has that he wears when he remembers is a fake leather cuff for his right wrist that brown at one end and a turquoise shade at the other, which doubles as both ornament and added support for his weak wrist.

BODY MODIFICATIONS: He has scars running down the back of his head on the left side, stopping around halfway down his neck which look like a series of torn bite marks from the upper part of a jaw, with more marks just behind his ear from the bottom half, evidence of his turning.

WOLF FORM

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BUILD: Sleek and restricted to four leg movement only, Teivel’s wolf resembles the wolves of the wild in rough shape only. He is longer than that of a grey wolf by a good few inches, and where he lacks height, he makes up for in length. Both sets of legs are long and thin, nimble limbs that are more useful for leaping, running or climbing as opposed to a proper fight. His front legs are thicker and stronger at nearer his body, the added power there giving him the strength to hold the rest of his body up if the need arose without the bonus of his hind limbs. The wolf’s body is lean and muscular, a continuous flowing shape from hind to head. There is no visible neck to speak of, his thick mane covering the otherwise short neck. As a wolf he has large, triangle shaped ears on his head, ever so slightly oversized in proportion to the rest of him, face narrowing down into a thin, short muzzle, capped off with a series of small, sharp teeth lining his mouth.
HEIGHT: Quadruped – 4’7”
WEIGHT: 212lbs.
HAIR: There is a mixture of colours in Teivel’s wolf, black in the centre of his body and in the centre of all his limbs. As the hair gets further and further away from its source, the colour changes to a red tone, a deep, almost blood tone. There is also a smattering of yellow hair scattered throughout his body, primarily at the very tips of the thicker areas of his hair. Around his neck area, the hair thickens and becomes longer, creating almost a mane like effect in order to protect this otherwise vulnerable area. The hair increases in length at the upper parts of his legs and under his belly, for protection.
EYES: An intense shade of yellow.
DEFINING MARKS: A long following tail that is bushy and trails along the floor.

PACK[/u]
PACK: Rayne’s pack.
POSITION: Pack Member.
TERRITORY: Rayne’s half of L.A.

HAIR[/u]
LENGTH He has let his hair grow long, longer at the back than at the front, back reaching just past the nape of his neck and hair then slowly getting shorter although at its shortest is it still a few inches long. Teivel has also grown out his fringe so that the strands reach just past his eyebrows, so that the edges are ticking at his eyes. The length also ensures that his turning scar is hidden from view and any questions.
STYLE: It mostly hangs in a ‘pudding bowl’ style around his head, fringe, side of his hair reaching just past his ears, the cut straight around. At the back of his head, where the hair is longer, again it just falls down straight, as it grows and little attempt is made to style it in any other way than how it is, Teivel never doing more than dragging a comb through it in the mornings.
COLOUR: A light to mid brown shade.

FACIAL HAIR[/u]
LENGTH: None.
STYLE: Clean shaven, he doesn’t like having facial hair, not even stubble.

EYES[/u]
COLOUR: Hazel although in certain lights they can look green.
ODDITIES: Like all werewolves, whenever Teivel is feeling any particularly intense emotion, such as fear, surprise, excitement, etc. they will change to the colour of his wolf’s eyes, as they will when he feels pain. Teivel can also will them to change colour whenever he wants, to playfully tease or if he is feeling mischievous.

PERSONALITY: To those that don’t know Teivel very well, he comes across as something of a stereotypical teenager. He can be rather moody and downright sullen at times, having a little bit of a prickly personality and taking offence at smallest of things, be they be innocent or not. He is an easy target to irate or upset, and despite knowing that he makes it easy for people, Teivel can’t help it and rises to the bait over and over again. It is simply less of an effort to be moody than to make the attempt to be anything else. Sometimes rude, or at the very least short with people and often seen shuffling along awkwardly, his negative behaviour traits hide the fact that he is not comfortable in himself and his body. His age aside, Teivel still doesn’t seem to know where all his limbs are at the same time, and while not exactly clumsy as such, he does occasionally appear startled and bump into things he hasn’t accounted for to being there due to his dimensions.

Although he is over one hundred years old, Teivel is still very much a teenager, both mentally and physically. He knows he will never outwardly age more than he has and that knowledge has had a profound effect on him and how he acts. Part of him feels that since he is doomed to forever look like a teenager and be considered a teenager means he should also act like one. Or rather act like the worst sort of teenager he can think of and nothing so far has been able to sway him from this view that there can be more to him than the ‘teenage angst’ façade he presents to the world at large. He has only relatively recently begun to explore his Jewish heritage, having never been brought up or taught anything connected to it. Teivel is slowly and tentatively learning about it, hoping that by knowing more about where and how he came from, he will be able to better understand himself.

When he sets his mind on something he is determined, distinctly stubborn and mulishly so and near impossible to move from his stance, even if he is the one in the wrong, even if he knows he is the one who has made a mistake. Teivel can’t seem to admit when he’s been wrong, preferring instead to get moody about the whole thing, over sensitive to any sort of criticism directed at him, even when in the best of intentions.

Family is everything to Teivel, and he longs for the sort of family he never had, the sort he reads about in books. While he knows that the pack he has found himself in is nothing like his human family or the pack he spent most of life with, he has trouble moving past his memories. Teivel is torn, part of him wanting to stay hidden away from the rest of the pack and keep his prickly exterior strong, to keep the walls up in order to protect himself while another part of him would like nothing better than to relax in the company of others, to let them truly get to know him and to work towards earning the sort of kinship and friendship he so desperately desires but that requires a leap of faith, a measure of trust.

Trust does not come easily to Teivel, not anymore.

His is rather shy about his musical talents and so will only really practise his guitar and singing when he is reasonably confident he is alone and there is nobody who could hear them. Growing up in a place where any talents and skills were exploited and used against him, he is wary of revealing this part of himself, even to the few within the pack he claims to trust to a degree. He is also rather insecure and lacking any real confidence about any skills he possesses. Years of being told he is worthless and stupid have had their toll on him, corroded any at his confidence as well as making him wary around anyone that attempts to build it back up, as though he suspects some kind of other motive. Rather sadly, he has often considers those who try to offer friendship to him as people who are trying to find a hole in his armour to hurt him once again, never once truly considering that they may just want to be his friend – he wouldn’t want to be his friend.

WEAKNESSES: As with all werewolves, Teivel is allergic to the metal silver; it can make him feel nauseous, burn him, poison and in extreme cases even kill him, depending on the proximity, quantity and the length of contact. Should it reach his lungs, heart or brain, not even his abilities would be able to heal it and he would eventually die. Due to his relatively young age for a werewolf, he has yet to master control over his wolf side during the nights of the full moon and transforms against his will during those nights, resulting in him having to be confined for his own – and others – safety. He is no fighter, not having the bulk either as a human or wolf to even be able to use his body as a last resort weapon and so would fare extremely poorly should he be forced into a fight situation. His lack of self confidence is another weakness that could be manipulated against him.

His right wrist sometimes gives him pain; ghost aches more than anything else, an unpleasant reminder of the past. It is also somewhat weaker than his left, so much so that on bad days he wears a wristband around it as a strap for protection and support, the limb aching and making it hard for him to grip things in his right hand because of the linked weakness. Teivel is sensitive to light related ailments, such as sun headaches and in some cases even a mild form of sunstroke, although it is possible that the effects are more physiological than anything else. The fact remains however that the longer he stays under a hot sun, the higher the chances he has of suffering from a headache that can only be relived by time spent in a dark room, sometimes with a cool towel on his forehead to worse consequences.

ABILITIES: Teivel had all of the benefits that comes with being a werewolf, shared with all his kind; all five of his senses are enhanced, along with increased speed, strength, agility, endurance, stamina, balance and reflexes. He has a higher pain threshold than humans, and on the flip side, he heals at an advanced rate, along with the obvious skill to change from human to wolf and back again at will. He can speak both French and English extremely fluently, often switching between the two in any one conversation.

Teivel can play the guitar pretty well, although it is a skill he has only picked up in recent years, and one he is still somewhat shy about. Inspired by others in the pack, in the past few years he has even attempted to write his own music although not only does he not show anyone the music, he’s often too embarrassed to even play them in any kind of relative privacy. Teivel can sing well enough to hold a tune but again this is never shared with the rest of the pack. He is a fairly decent cook, having had years of experience of being left to make meals and can whip up pretty much anything if he sets his mind to it. While some may not consider it an ‘ability’ as such, Teivel has read all the books by Dr. Seuss so many times that he can now recite the majority of them off by heart.

WEAPONS: None aside from his natural werewolf ones.

PRIZED POSSESSIONS: While there is nothing special about his dog-eared copy of The Lorax by Dr. Seuss, it not being signed or particularly old, it is still an important item to Teivel, his favourite book despite being considered a ‘kid’ story. He owns a red electric guitar which he loves, although he sometimes claims it is simply an ornament rather than admit he plays. Teivel’s most treasured item however is, his personalised Moleskine notebook. The small black pad was a gift from Jonah, an attempt to help Teivel loosen up and he has decorated the front as well as slowly filling it with his music, making it an intensely personal object.

HOME(S): The Four Seasons with the rest of Rayne’s pack.

HISTORY: Teivel Hardy was born in 1902, in a small providence of the North-West part of France, near the city of Laval to Franck and Beyla Hardy. The couple had long been having problems before the pregnancy, for Franck was a mean bully, a man who hid behind their religious beliefs as an excuse to undermine and demean his wife who was a pious Jew and believed passionately in the teachings. For the most part, she accepted his treatment as something that could not be changed and a thing that was clearly acceptable to most. The village they lived in was little more than a hamlet, too far from the outskirts of the larger city to offer much variety in thinking, the majority of those who lived there being Jewish and relying on the word of the local Rabbi.

She stayed with Franck because she believed she had no choice, that it was her duty to remain with her husband no matter how much he insulted her. Relentlessly, he twisted their faith to suit his own ends, pushing it beyond the norm and soon enough she was practically a prisoner in her own home, never allowed to leave, not even to meet with her female friends. It was a miserable existence, Beyla not even having been given a choice in who to marry, her parents having arranged the match between her and Franck when she was still a child and so she tried to make the best of it. They had been married for a number of years before she finally fell pregnant with child, much to Franck’s delight, the man crowing about to anyone who would listen about his child, although he carried on treating his wife with the same amount of scorn as though she was nothing more than the vessel to hold his son or daughter.

The knowledge that she was pregnant was enough to make Beyla sit up and think carefully about her life. While she was able to suffer the humiliation inflicted on her by her husband alone, she was scared for the fate of her child, worried that if the baby was female she would grow up under the harsh thumb of a man and if the baby was male, he would end up like his father, Beyla cherishing the hope – as farfetched as she privately thought – that he would grow up to respect women more than his father. She made plans to steal away under the cover of night, carefully gathering together what she thought she would need to keep herself alive but somehow, Franck caught wind of her attempt before she could even carry it out. Furious that his wife would try and leave him, he effectively locked her up completely in the house for the rest of her term.

Beyla was under no illusions what would happen to her and her baby should it turn out to be a girl, the woman bitterly praying over and over again that the child be a boy so at least it would live, clinging to the thought that any life was better than the rejection and death a female would surely suffer, as a way for him to be avenged upon his wife. He had every right to reject the baby and throw them both out to starve if he desired, another reason why she prayed for a boy. When she went into labour, surrounded by the other female’s of the village, she carried on praying that it would be a boy, knowing that Franck was so angry about her actions that he would do whatever he could to hurt her and she had already shown that the child would be the way. After hours of agony, her son was born.

For the first few years of his life, Teivel grew up quietly enough. Even before he learnt how to fully speak, he had learnt not to anger his father, the man having an unpredictable and uncontrollable temper and he never hesitated in raising his hand to his son, even at the tender age of three. His mother tried her best to protect him, to distract her husband’s rage as best she could. Mother and son were close because of this, another reason for Franck to lash out at his son, angry that he wasn’t getting the love and adoration he felt he deserved despite his actions, angry that his wife dared spend some of her time and love on their son instead of focusing it all on him.

One day in 1908, when Teivel was barely six years old, life in the quiet provincial village was shattered for ever. The men were all out working in the fields when dark shapes crossed the land, slinking across the spaces and falling upon the village, strange men attacking and clearly knowing where each woman and child was located. Any who tried to offer resistance were beaten down, knocked out and hurt although somehow there were no actual deaths.

All that changed when a small group split away from the village and headed back out towards the fields, shapes becoming low against the ground. Seconds later screams could be heard all the way to the village where the invaders were roughly forcing all the woman and children together, dragging the unresponsive ones if they had to. Teivel clung to his mother as the group was herded into the largest building in the village, the local Synagogue. There, they were made to sit in rows, families bunched together. Nobody understood what was happening or what the attackers wanted as the men milled around in the space in front of them, apparently waiting for something, talking to each other in a language Teivel didn’t understand. Aside from the soft speaking, the only other sounds were muffled sobs of the mothers and children as they waited.

A woman finally entered the room, the first female they had seen that was part of the invading group, and still there was no explication as to what was going on or what they wanted. Aside from the physical violence, and the murders of the men nothing had been taken and the belongings were left in the houses. Teivel watched as she moved over to the rest of her group, noticing even at his young age how the rest cowered from her, the behaviour reminding him of the way he and his mother acted around his father. From the actions of the men who had attacked, the woman appeared to be in charge, someone they feared and respected, which was a state of affaires that only served to confuse Teivel more and to incite curiosity firmly in him. She moved towards the huddle of mothers and children, slowly working her way along the lines, gaze impassive as she stared down at the children clinging to the women, eyeing them as if they were little more than cattle.

Teivel lifted his head when she reached him, meeting her gaze and staring back. Part of him knew he should be terrified of the woman and all that she represented but the larger part of him was curious to finally see the face of the person who had changed everyone in one morning, and who was so different to the normal order of things. Her cool and distant stare did not shift or flicker as she watched him. In that moment Teivel felt something he couldn’t put into words, something he couldn’t understand at his young age as he fearlessly gazed into her eyes. Although she lingered in front of Teivel and his mother for a few seconds longer than the rest before moving on, the woman did not speak and the moment was broken. Teivel came back to himself, aware once again of the sobs in the room, fear returning as he wondered what was going to happen to him and his mother.

The woman returned to the group of men, muttering a few words to them before turning her head and looking directly back at Teivel. A shiver ran through him at the look even though it only lasted a moment before the woman turned and left, the feeling distracting him for a few seconds as two of the men bore down directly on them, physically ripping Teivel from his mother’s arms and viciously hitting her when she tried to protect her son. He might have been brave enough to meet the woman’s eyes, but he was still little more than a young boy who loved his mother, and the small village had been all he had ever known, Teivel screaming and struggling to get away. He was not the only child to be picked, a number of other young boys and girls selected and tossed over the shoulder of one of the invading men and simply carried out of the building, oblivious to the cries of distress.

The young Teivel saw none of this however, the first to be picked and taken directly to the front one of a series of horses and riders, where the same woman awaited. She introduced herself calmly to the scared boy as Christelle, her soothing voice a welcome change to the pervious hours as he was lifted up and placed in front of her on the saddle. Once she had told him her name she asked for his, keeping him distracted and transfixed by her shifting eyes, Teivel unable to look away from the unnatural violet, just as he had been unable to before. Dimly he was aware of the horse starting to move, to take him away from his home and without conscious thought, he moved to escape, only to be grabbed by the arm and physically pulled back properly onto the saddle by the petite Christelle. She carried on talking as though nothing had happened; keeping him distracted until eventually the events of the day caught up with him, his energy expended as he fell asleep.

He awoke to find it was dark and somehow he had been carried from the horse to a small room which held a bed and little else, the door firmly closed and locked, the window too high for him to reach. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Teivel huddled on the bed, scared and confused. It was the first time in his life that he had ever been really separated from his mother and he found himself missing her terribly. For hours he remained in his tiny ball, not realising he had fallen asleep until the sound of a lock turning and the door opening woke him back up, his limbs stiff and sore.

Christelle entered the room, Teivel catching a glimpse of an ornate room behind her before the door swung shut and she began to talk. This time however her words were not meaningless soothing ones but direct and too the point as she spoke of werewolves and vampires. The land all around them belonged to her pack and she identified herself as the alpha female, explaining the term to the confused boy. Her pack was currently involved in a struggle with the vampires of the area; a struggle that had been going on for over a hundred years and although the vampires lacked the numbers and powers of the wolves, they had grown increasingly skilled at guerrilla warfare, somehow managing to evade the hunts that took place during the day when they should have been easier to track down. The attacks had left the pack small and focused intently on fighting, so much so that every member was also a fighter. This in turn had led to a vacuum in the pack, jobs that the pack members had normally done being left unfinished and so a few decades ago the choice had been made to take human children from the villages on their territory.

Believing that anything that lived on their land belonged to them, the pack didn’t see anything wrong with the raids they partook in, alternating between the different villages and selecting those which seemed the strongest, the smartest and yet the ones that would work. Just because they wanted the humans to be slaves for them, didn’t mean they wanted weaklings who would die too quickly or dumb ones who would be easy prey for the vampires. The very heartland of the pack was their home, a makeshift village, where they had never been attacked, and it was here that they kept their humans, here that Teivel now was and even at his age he realised that he was supposed to be one of the ‘slaves’ they owned. Christelle carried on talking, telling him that he was different, that instead of the normal duties, Teivel was going to be the personal slave to the Alpha’s, hence his own room.

There was barely any time for him to wrap his head around the existence of creatures such as werewolves or the change in his life before he was put to work, expected to be the beast of burden for both Christelle and the alpha male, Olivier. Anything mundane and boring, anything that wasn’t directly connected to either fighting or the running of the pack was given to him, Teivel expected to run errands, collect meals and generally do whatever they wanted. At first, he refused, unable to believe anything they had told him.

Growing up with Franck as a father had conditioned him to buckle under pressure however and it only took two whippings for Teivel to agree to do anything they wanted, so long as the pain stopped. His back was raw and red afterwards, and as a further punishment he wasn’t allowed to wear a shirt when working outside so that the sun beat down fiercely on his open wounds, causing his skin to burn and make the healing process all the more painful. After that the mere reminder of the whipping was enough to keep him in line and to quieten any protest he might have made, the fear of the pain ensuring that he behaved.

The years slowly slipped past in a haze of hard work and painful punishments for the slightest mistake. He was taught to believe that Olivier and Christelle were the most important people in his life, in anyone’s life and that it was an honour to serve them. Bit by bit Teivel found himself believing that, mostly accepting the endless jobs and even feeling proud of them. He knew he was lucky to be a personal slave, that compared to the other humans it was ‘cushy’. His memories of his parents faded over time, his mother little more than flashes of memory, his father becoming the boogie man in his darker dreams. Although he cared in his own way for both of the alpha’s it was Christelle who was the more important to him, the woman almost pampering him by giving him better food than the rest of the slaves and by having him close by at all times. Occasionally she would tell him to leave his work for the day and simply have him sit with her and keep her entertained. Even though Teivel knew and accepted his role was far below her he was devoted to the alpha and would have done anything she asked without hesitation, even at the expense of his own life.

His worse punishment occurred a little after he turned fourteen. By then all he could remember was life with the pack, the fear of his capture and initial rebellion having faded into acceptance and Teivel couldn’t image anything other than this, nor could he remember wanting anything else. His loyalty to his mistress was foremost in his mind at all times but despite everything, Teivel was still a teenager, with everything that came with it. He began to grow moody when no in the direct presence of Christelle, to dally over his work and stopped expressing his gratitude whenever he was given food. At first, the alpha’s let the change of behaviour in him slide, positive proof that they were fond of him – or as fond as they could be of any human. The tolerance wouldn’t last forever and soon their patience snapped. It had been a tense day with Teivel’s actions and words bordering on reckless behaviour, the teenager tired and wanting nothing more than to spend the day in bed instead of running around after his master and mistress. In the end it had been a little thing, his tone lacking the proper respect for the situation to finally snap, the alpha’s running out of all patience and ordering that he be punished like any disobedient slave.

One of the elder fighters roughly grabbed Teivel by the scuff of his neck and dragged him outside towards a t-shaped wooden pole and stick located on a slight rise within the area. He struggled for a moment at the sight of the wood, knowing what was about to happen before falling limp, the majority of his brain knowing it was useless to fight and that struggling would only make the humiliation and punishment last longer. Some part of him honestly believed that he deserved the punishment, the knowledge that he was going in the shacks a rough wake up call although knowing that he deserved it was little comfort before the fact.

Without a word his wrists were locked into the cuffs, Teivel left to hang by his arms all night, the cold keeping him awake into the early hours before he finally fell into an uneasy sleep. As the sun rose the same fighter came over to him, unlocking his left wrist only, so that all his weight was on his right unless he stood on the very tip of his toes. To his horror he realised he was being left in the shackles for the day as well, and although there was some kind of ‘mercy’ in only one wrist being restrained it also meant that the pain was worse and there was no release. The sun beat down hard on him, the summer heat warming the cuff and it wasn’t long before the sensation of his wrist being burnt added to the agony. The lack of shade made him sweat, the sun causing a headache and when the choice was finally made to untie him as the sun started to sink he was unconscious.

Teivel never truly recovered from his night and day chained up, his wrist aching at odd times. The hours he suffered in the shacks were enough to snap him back into back into a submissive attitude, somehow becoming even more devoted to his master and mistress after the pain.

As he grew older, Teivel slowly became aware that while the pack would visit villages roughly every five years in order to replenish the stock of human slaves, there was never any adult humans in the pack’s home. Whenever a slave was officially deemed ‘too old’ – or old enough to consider a full on rebellion – they simply disappeared and anyone who asked was told that they had been allowed to return home. Being as close to the Alpha’s as Teivel was however, he knew the real story, that those who was considered a threat due to their age were either killed or used as bait for the vampires. Despite all the years spent in close proximity to the humans, the pack still considered them expendable.

Although Teivel was rapidly approaching the age when the slaves started to vanish, he made no attempt to escape or showed any fear at the true knowledge of his fate. He was so deeply conditioned to believe and trust in the pack that in some way he considered the thought that he could be used as bait for the vampires an honour. He knew how much they plagued Christelle and the idea that he could help get rid of some, even at the cost of his own life meant a lot to him. Patiently he waited for his time to come but as weeks turned into months he still was working for the alphas and at over nineteen he was the oldest human there.

It was the waiting that made him jittery, the fear that something worse was coming or that he had somehow failed his alphas and was going to be punished worse. It didn’t help that members of the pack were starting to look at him and mutter quietly among themselves, apparently as confused as Teivel was about his continuing existence. Every day he believed it was his last; trying to mentally prepare himself for what he knew would happen and feeling stretched to his limits at all the waiting. One night he was woken by Christelle, the female standing by the end of his bed, quietly instructing him to get dressed and come to the hall. Convinced that this was the moment he dressed slowly, suddenly reluctant now that the time was upon him, afraid of dying but determined nevertheless to do his duty.

The hall was quiet as he entered, Christelle the only other person there, the regal woman sitting in pride of place. She remained silent as he moved towards her, Teivel’s eyes lowered to the ground and yet he was consciously aware of her strange and alluring eyes boring into him. Only when he reached her, stopping a few feet in front of her chair did she speak, ordering him to kneel. He bowed his head in understanding, almost touching the floor with his hair as he remained there, waiting with baited breath for his end and yet the alpha didn’t move. Faint footsteps from behind caught his attention, his body tensing slightly in confusion, already wary and unsure about this, every action going against everything he had known of pervious humans reaching the end of their use. When the person spoke, he realised it was Olivier, the male giving the order to proceed. Even then however, with what Teivel believed was the order to kill him, for a moment nothing happened. It was almost unbearable, hanging on the edge and just waiting. Teivel felt as though the moment couldn’t get any worse but a second later he realised he was wrong as terrible sounds ripped the air, bones breaking and reshaping, a sound that he knew could only mean a transformation of a wolf.

Instinctively he wanted to run away, to hide from the beast he knew was standing there in place of his beloved alpha, Teivel unable to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine, knowing that the slight shudder would have been visible. Olivier spoke again, asking Teivel to prove his faith and loyalty to the pack and to his alphas. He was requested not to move even as Christelle padded towards him, her heavy breathing telling him she was coming closer and closer. Teivel focused everything he had on remaining in his kneeling position, keeping himself submissive and low, telling himself that if it was his fate to be put out of his misery then it was an honour to be killed by his alpha.

Christelle paused directly in front of him, so close that he could feel her hot breath on the back of his neck and still Teivel refused to allow himself to move or to express the fear and terror, the sudden swelling of need, the simple desire to live. The next few seconds blurred together as Christelle opened her mouth, leaning forward so that he could feel her actual teeth on his head, the sharp fangs scarping along his skin. The next thing he knew she was biting down, agony coursing through his body even though she wasn’t biting nearly hard enough to kill him or crush his head.

Somewhere during the pain, Teivel passed out and was more than a little surprised when he woke up again. He had honestly expected to be killed and instead to his bewilderment found himself alone with Christelle, the woman explaining that they had instead made the choice to change him, to turn him into one like them. He was stuck by a strange feeling of déjà vu as he listened to her explain his new life and what it meant, even though Teivel couldn’t actually place in his mind any memory explaining why he did and finally pushed it aside.

Although he was now part of the pack, Teivel was still expected to carry on his duties as before, effectively having become a long term slave for the alphas. The other wolves avoided him whenever possible, thinking he wasn’t worthy of actually being a werewolf when he had once been a human slave, considering it would have been different if he hadn’t started at such a low place. It was only his close relationship with the leaders of the pack that prevented him from becoming the Omega, since he was important to them. He was also, along with the actual Omega of the pack, the only wolf who was not trained to defend himself, Olivier harbouring fears that he would be a danger if he knew how to fight. The idea of raising up against the alphas never occurred to Teivel and he would have been visibly upset to learn that it was even suspected of him. All he had ever known was his duty to the pack and it was all he needed, as content as he could be in his life even with the growing strains of the vampires, the attacks becoming more and more bold.

In the end however, it wasn’t just the vampires which would prove to be the pack’s undoing. They were so focused on defending themselves against the race that they considered the real danger that they never once spared any thoughts towards humans; both the way in which the world was changing around them and the growing resentment for the stealing of their children. The werewolves weren’t interested in human affairs, ignoring the rising tensions within the world and even ignoring the great wars that broke out. The first one had blown over and when the second one started, they assumed the same thing would happen.

France was invaded, the part they were living in being included in the ‘empire’ of Germany. The superstitious Nazi’s were a godsend to the vampires, carefully filling their heads with stories of the strange village out in the wilderness that stole children, a village rumoured to be full of the supernatural and Jews. It didn’t take long for the vampires to cunningly convince them to launch an attack on the village without revealing their own other nature, the invading forces needing little encouragement after learning that the stories about children being kidnapped were true. While the majority were taken from largely Jewish populations, not all were and they considered it their duty to get rid of such a threat.

Unprepared for the humans, the pack were also unprepared for the sheer savagely of the attack which happened one clear night. The Nazi’s and the vampires attacked together, and although the pack quickly rallied and fought back, it became a bloodbath on both sides, all races falling, although after a while it seemed as though the werewolves were gaining the upper hand. One of the vampires had the bright idea to use fire, setting the building alight.

Teivel cowered inside throughout it all, his hands clasped to his head to try and block out the horrific noises and the screams of the dying. He had never been in any kind of battle before now and didn’t know how to deal with it, cowering even more as the doors burst open and Christelle charged inside, her weapons in her hands. Briskly she ordered Teivel to run, to change into his werewolf form and get away. He hesitated, torn between doing what he was told and getting away from the terror of fighting, and remaining where he felt he belonged. Roughly, Christelle pushed him towards the door, repeating her order. Unable to deny her anything, Teivel transformed and slipped away, the fire and screams driving him deeper and deeper into the nearby countryside.

On the third day of hiding he finally summoned up the courage to return to his home, slinking through the area and hyper aware of every sound and sight. When he finally reached the village it was to discover every building had been razed to the ground, bodies and items taken away so that the only sign that there had been anything here were the blackened marks on the ground. Staring at the place which had once been his home, it slowly started to sink in that he was really alone – free. What had happened to the pack, he didn’t know, if they had all been killed or if some had escaped. There was no trail for him to pick up on, no matter how many times he circled the area in the vain hope.

Confused and aware if nothing else, there would still be vampires around the area that would like nothing better than to get their hands on any werewolf he fled the area, travelling during the early hours of the day and the evenings, creeping across the country without any destination in mind. His only aim was to try and avoid everyone he could, the young wolf so paranoid that he believed everyone and anyone would attack and hurt him given the chance.

The years slipped past without him taking any real note of them, still roaming aimlessly, unable to think about anything besides what he had lost. When the wars around him ended, he didn’t notice, when the countries became more pleasant, he didn’t notice. He did notice the decrease of armed people about, something which relived him greatly. Almost by chance he found himself on the coast one day, completely oblivious to the country he was in. There were a number of grand ships pressed up against the docks he wandered past, Teivel finding himself returning to look at them on more than one occasion.

It was a simple whim, nothing more, that inspired him to hide aboard a ship in the end and stowaway on it. Teivel didn’t care where it took him, so long as it was away from here. The journey took weeks, and at more than one point he was almost seen, Teivel using all the skills he had learn in the years alone to keep out of the way of the crew. When they finally docked he fled in wolf form, not registering where they had landed until he felt he was far enough away. He was in America, a place he had heard a little about but knew nothing beyond the fact that it was on the other side of the world.

That was good enough for him, and he continued his wanderings, occasionally working up the courage to speak to the odd person in order to practise his English, rapidly becoming more and more at home with the tongue. One early morning as he was wandering, hungry as always, he came across a group of what he instantly recognized were werewolves. It was the first time he had really come across any since the attack and the simple fear of such a large group of powerful beasts kept him rooted in place even as they turned to look at him.

His terror must have been clearly visible on his face, because they approached him carefully, gently, almost coxing as they introduced themselves as the alphas and fighters of Rayne’s pack before offering to help him. As young as he was, Teivel knew he needed the help of a pack and more than that, he wanted everything that came with being in a pack. He needed the company and the safely it provided. Nervously, knowing the only choice was to be alone for longer, he agreed, even though the amount of people around was almost overwhelming. Being in Rayne’s pack was almost overwhelming as well, the transition from being a single wolf to being in a group again something that took him a while to get used to.

It took a while for him to fully accept that not every pack had been like the one he knew and that Rayne’s didn’t take part in kidnapping or keep humans as slaves. It took him even longer to realise and accept that he wasn’t expected to either learn how to fight or to return to his ‘servant’ duties and that he could be a full member of the pack without having to pay them back in kind.

Within the pack, Teivel slowly began to unwind, no longer expecting everything to be a trap or an attack although he still kept himself closed off, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. With the encouragement of his new family, he tentatively began to explore his heritage, learning as best he could about his past. He feels more settled now, looking up to Jonah Lawrence and wishing he was more like him. Teivel is not immune to the tensions he can sense building up in the pack and they have caused him to become more withdrawn and bad tempered, inwardly fearing he is going to lose his family all over again but for now he is prepared to wait and see how it all plays out.