Damn it.

If somebody was to pass by this exact location, and this exact time, they would come across a rather odd image. Unless of course, you count seeing a 5 foot tall, curly, hazel wolf looking down at what appears to be a puddle of ripped red material, as the norm.

Why the fuck did I phase in my new jeans!? They were expensive!

The dark wolf bent his neck over, and carefully tried to pick up the shreds of red in his mouth, causing little pieces of string to tickle the roof of his mouth, which in turn, caused the beast to let out a noise that could be interrupted as a cough, or a deep laugh.

The mammal visibly slumped as he let the material slide out of his mouth. Sighing in defeat, he kicked some loose leaves over the cherry red patch and launched himself into the foliage at a remarkable speed.

He dug his long, curled claws into the soft ground and pulled himself forwards with ease, each stride covering around 8 foot of ground.

The wolf loved the rush that he got when he ran like this; feeling the wind blowing through his thick curls, flying across the forest, leaping around trees. He felt like he was free. The predator closed his eyes, and let his natural instincts take over. They guided him through the trees effortlessly, until suddenly, they made his body stop. His eyes flew open, but he didn't try to gain back control, they merely locked onto the sleek beige doe, sitting about 40 feet away from him; lunch. Before he even had time to process this, he had pounced onto the unsuspecting animal and bit into its neck, the creature never stood a chance. He moaned quietly as the warm blood filled his mouth, the excess trickling down his jaw and drenching the fur that lay there. Blaine sank his teeth further into the pained doe and pulled back sharply, taking a big chunk of flesh from its neck with him. The smaller best dropped to the floor, dead, while the larger sat, enjoying his fresh meal.

Werewolves don't have to eat in wolf form, and many choose to never do so, preferring human food. In fact, you can even come across vegetarian werewolves! At first, the young wolf thought he might try that life style, put his idea had put down quickly. Vegetarian wolves are naturally weaker, which would not be fitting for a soon-to-be alpha.

The wolf clamped his jaw around the left hind leg of his prey, and pulled it out of its socket in a swift movement. He swung it round his head, making blood splatter onto the surrounding trees, before tossing it into the distance. Legs didn't have enough meat on them to bother with. The beast dug his snout into the bloody opening and inhaled, the rich smell making him dizzy.

So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways! All my under dogs!

The wolf pulled his nose out of the doe, startled and looked around in alarm, trying to find the source of the interruption. It took him a few seconds to realise that the noise was coming from him, more specifically, from a pouch tied around his front leg.

He clenched his eyes shut, and pulled his human instincts up, so that they were higher than his wolf ones. Once this was done, he phased quickly. Where moments ago stood an enormous killer, was now a tanned boy, with dark curly hair, completely naked.

The boy bent over and carefully undid the buttons that secured the lid of the pouch, to the pouch itself. He pulled out the objects from inside of it: A phone, a tiny red wooden wolf and an old gold key.

The boy slowly walked over to the nearest tree, dragging his heels along the damp earth. With his possessions in one hand, he used the other to grab hold of a thick branch, not too high above his head. He had to jump a bit to get a firm grip on it (Oh, how he hated being a short human). Once hold of it though, he took a few steps back, before running forwards, jumping, and using his arm to pull him into a summersault that landed him on the branch, in an upright sitting position. He rested his back against the sturdy trunk of his chosen tree, and bent his decorated leg, making it easier for him to place two of the objects back into the shrunken bag, leaving him with just his phone.

He pressed the circular button, frowning as the red liquid on his hands smuged onto it, and slowly typed in his 4 digit pass code. He pressed the 'Missed Call' button, not that he needed to, he knew who'd been calling him. Sure enough, the name read 'Tia Murphy'. Tia was Blaine's dad's secretary, in a way. She wasn't the warmest of people, but Blaine and she had always got along quite well. She was sort of like the sibling he never had. He tapped the 'Call back' box and brought the device up to his ear. She answered on the first ring.

"Took you long enough." Snapped a voice instantly.

,"Good afternoon to you to Tia. How may I be of service?" Blaine asked, amusement clearly evident in his voice. It was obvious to him that the women had had nowhere near enough coffee put in her.

"Cut the crap Anderson." The voice replied, "Your old man wants to see you."

Blaine sighed, of course he did. "Did he mention what about?"

There was a pause. "I thought I told you to cut the crap. We both know what its about."

"Kay, be there soon." He muttered, raking a hand through his curly mop. "And, um, Tia, could you, uh, leave a cloth and some jeans by the oak tree?" He asked, blushing.

"Ahhh, did somebody get all messy and burst their panties?" Her smirk was audible.

Blaine growled before hanging up.

The tanned boy looked down at the decapitated doe lying near the base of his tree. He shivered, and suddenly felt over come with the feeling of sickness. He never thought that he would try eating in wolf form, it repulsed him. The first time that he did it, he wasn't aware that he was doing it! It was about three years ago, he was just standing in the grand hallway and suddenly everything hit him. Every sound, scent and movement was suddenly closing in around him. It all became too much, and the next thing Blaine knew, he was standing naked in the woods, with a pile of rabbit feet surrounding him.

Now it was more of a regular thing, whenever Dalton became too much, he'd just run to the forest and hunt. He loved Dalton Manor dearly, but sometimes leaving in a mansion full of werewolves can be quite over powering.

Blaine hopped down from the branch swiftly, landing gracefully on his feet. He looked around, trying to find something to waste a bit of time on. He really didn't want to have this chat with his father. He even considered going back to Dalton in human form, seeing as it would a rather long 3 hours (compared to the 10 minutes it was usually take) but decided that he just couldn't be bothered.

He phased back into his wolf, but was careful to keep his instincts human (wolf instincts would mean hunting) and made his way home.

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Blaine stopped around 2 minutes away from Dalton, right next to a big old oak tree. He phased back to his human form and frowned.

He had asked Tia for jeans and a cloth right? So were where they?

Something above him caught Blaine's attention so he tilted his head upwards.

Fuck you Tia.

Hanging above him were a pair of green Capri pants and a damp wash cloth.

Seriously, fuck you.

But much to Blaine's dismay, they were too hanging too high for him to reach. He could just imagine Tia laughing her ass off as she did this. Blaine looked around, looking for tools that may help him with his mission. Nothing.

There was only one thing for it, Blaine sauntered over to a shorter, but still thick, tree and wrapped his arms around it. He pulled, and slowly the tree parted from the earth to which its roots had been intertwined with.

He carried his loot over to the Oak, and rested it, so that it formed a diagonal ramp leading up to the lowest branch Blaine could find. He took a deep breath in, and ran up the tree, using nimble steps and abnormal agility. From there, he managed to carefully climb from branch to branch until he reached the branch directly below the one on which his pants and cloth were hanging. He reached up, but found to his anger that he still couldn't reach.

Oh my fucking god. Does the world hate me or something?

He let out an annoyed growl and jumped, his hands tugged the pants, but way too hard, and the branch ripped off the tree and fell to the ground, pulling a shocked Blaine down with him.

Blaine landed on his feet again, surprised or not – he always landed on his feet. He took one look down and snarled, the pants had been ripped in half.

He grabbed the phone out of its pouch and called the most recent number. She answered on the first ring.

"Well Hello Blainers!" She was barely stifling a laugh.

"What. The. Fuck."

"Hmmm?"

"I am going to rip your throat out."

"Why, would on earth have I done to earn this sort of rudeness?" She asked, not bothering to stifle her laugh anymore .

"The fucking pants!"

"What? I left them by the oak tree like you asked!"

"I attempted to get them. WHICH ENDED IN ME PULLING A BRANCH OFF THE FUCKING TREE AND RIPPING ONE OF MY FAVOURATE PAIRS OF PANTS!" He shouted down the phone.

"Why, whatever do you mean Blainey? I left them in the cubby hole."

Blaine clenched his fists, unfortunately one was still holding the phone, which shattered in his grasp.

He just stared at it, before walking round the tree to the small hole he knew existed on the other side. He reached his hand in and pulled out another pair of green Capri pants and a wash cloth. He kicked the huge oak, making leaves get stuck in his hair when they fell as a result of it wobbling.

Fuck you.

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Blaine tapped on the dark wooden door gently, and waited.

"Come in" said a hoarse voice.

Blaine turned the heavy brass door knob and slipped into the room. He bowed his head instantly and said "Alpha." In a quiet voice.

A man sitting behind a big chocolate desk nodded and said "Blaine."

Blaine lifted his head and went to sit in one of the lounge chairs on the other side of the desk. He looked around, the office hadn't changed a bit, no matter where you looked, you can only see books. Book, after book, after book.

The older man coughed, and Blaine whipped his head around to face him. The man's hair was gelled back in a smooth style, and he was wearing a black tailor made waist coat suit. Blaine realised that he was staring disdainfully at Blaine's hair. The boy cautiously reached up to tap his curly doo and he felt something crusty. Dried blood. Nice.

Eventually the smart man pulled his eyes away from the bloody mess on Blaine's head and cleared his throat again.

"Blaine, son. As you know, your turning 18 in exactly two months. And, as you know, on that day you will take over the role of Alpha to the Dalton pack." He paused, so Blaine took it as his cue to nod. "I know you will do this job well. However, there is the small matter of you finding a suitable young girl to be your mate."

Blaine stiffened, this is what he'd been putting off.

"Now I've written down a list of all the available girls in the pack, and I'm giving you a week to choose."

Blaine's head snapped up. "No!" he said, before he could stop himself. The alpha raised an eyebrow. "I mean... alpha, I- I can't."

"Can't?" asked the older man in a low voice.

"Alph- father, I've told you before... I like, uh, boys."

The taller man stared at the shorter and slowly said, "That as it may. There are no males in this pack who, uh, have the same preferences as you, and I forbid you to force it on them."

"But father!" Blaine shouted, springing up from his seat. "That's what you're doing to me!"

"Sit down!" The older shouted. The weight of the command forced Blaine's knees to buckle, and he landed in the chair. "You will not force your, your abnormality on the other men. Do you understand?"

Blaine slowly nodded, "Then- Then I won't mate."

The alpha's eyes filled with instant rage. "If you don't mate, then you can't become alpha, and we will be forced to hand our line over to the Smythes! You. Will. Mate."

"Yes Fath-alpha." Blaine muttered weakly.