Beautiful Creatures Series

Feral Colorado…

Stanton stood over the graves of his parents. They had both been killed by hunters. Last year Stanton and his folks had moved to Feral from Montana when they heard rumour of a sanctuary for people like them. Stanton was a Lycanthrope, or as the Hollywood and humans called them, a werewolf. When they arrived in Aspen last year, it didn’t take long for them to learn where Feral was. It wasn’t really a small town outside of Aspen. The population was barely more than fifty. They had only a few public buildings and then a handful of residences. Stanton and his parents had been pleased when they learned that every resident in Feral was a Lycan just like them. Feral wasn’t a town… it was a Lycan pack. The first and largest in over four hundred years. It quickly became a home.

Only they were not the only ones to have heard about the uniqueness of the people that called feral home. Just last week, they were attacked by a three-man team of hunters, humans that knew what they were and were trained to kill people like them. They had failed to wipe out the pack. The pack was just too big for a three-man team, and hunters did not typically travel in large numbers. That was their mistake. The pack killed them, but not before the hunters managed to kill five of their pack members. Two of which had been Stanton’s parents.

So now Stanton was fourteen and orphaned, but he wasn’t alone in the world. Standing next to him was Gordon Wilder, the pack leader, the Alpha. He was an intimidating man in his thirties. Then again, most Alphas were intimidating. They were a whole different breed of wolf than the rest of them. Stanton was only an adulterant, but he was a known Bata. Most Lycans demonstrated traits from birth that placed them in the wolf hierarchy. Most wolves were Omegas, while some were Bata’s, and even fewer were Alpha. No one designated anyone as one or the other they just sensed it. It was a sixth sense that prevented rivalries and fighting over the chain of command.

As some of the Omegas began to shovel dirt into the graves located in the small but growing graveyard just south of Feral, Gordon put his hand supportively on Stanton’s shoulder. “I’m alone in the world,” Stanton said sadly.

“You are orphaned,” Gordon corrected him, “but you are not alone in this world. Gordon turned to face Stanton. “At some point, we all end up orphaned.”

were not immortal. They could be killed, granted. It wasn’t easy to kill a Lycan, but it could be done. Stanton had no idea how long they lived if left to nature. None of them did. The sad fact of the matter was no Lycan had ever died of natural causes. He wasn’t sure what their life expectancy was. But at the age of thirty-four, Gordon was one of the oldest Lycans to be walking the earth, and he had only lived this long because of

each

***

Vegas, Nevada, nine years later…

from the orphanage. She had gotten to the age where she was too old for anyone to want to adopt her, so she was, like the other kids her age, was just waiting to age out of the system. Only

her. Each exorcism had been long and brutal, and she had barely survived the last one. So, she had decided to run away again. Only the cops kept bringing her back. So,

Vegas. She was penniless and hungry. It was winter, and even though there was no snow, it was raining, and she was freezing. She would sleep under some dirty cardboard she found in an alley. She settled in behind a dumpster and tried to get some rest, but sleep

some business. Aurora was starving and cold and dirty. She would go for some food, a hot shower, and a bed to sleep in, if even for just an hour. Suddenly a crappy little car

would buy her something to

room. Once inside the room, he was all over her. Aurora hated every

wash away the events of the night. When she was washed, she went out to the vending machine a few suites over and bought an armful of food and then returned to the room. Since it was paid for, she decided to spend the night. She gorged on