Hello! It’s been a while!
Sorry that I haven’t had a lot of updates lately, I’ve been busy trying to finish my next novel. In honor of finishing my newest werewolf story, here is a quick glance at my very first one.
Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy!
Happy Reading! – Catie
Belonging by Catherine Kos
Chapter One
I wake up with a gasp, my body jolting me forward into an upright position. Perspiration covers my body, causing my hair to stick to my neck and forehead. Something about the dream… it felt so real. The ending of the dream keeps flashing through my mind. The wolf’s eyes staring deep into mine. A shiver runs through my body. I do a little shimmy to shake the feeling from my body. As I take a deep breath, there is an impatient knock at the door. Oh right, a knock on the door is what woke me up. Well, best not to keep whomever it is waiting.
Judging from the amount of light that is not streaming through the window, I can assume that it is still sometime in the middle of the night. What could this possibly be about?
Throwing the covers off my body, I stride to the door, unlocking it, and pulling it open a few inches. Through the darkness, I can see Franklin, Marcus’ second in command standing just outside my door. He stares at me with distaste written on his face, as if summoning me is a serious chore.
“Yes?” I ask, irritated.
A smile forms on his face. As if he is telling a joke.
“Your father wants you in his office,” he says.
“Okay, I will be there in a moment,” I say, beginning to close the door, but he sticks his foot out, stopping me.
“Now,” he growls as I look up at him. Without waiting for me to move on my own, Franklin yanks my arm dragging me down the hall towards Marcus’ office.
Franklin is a short man with dirty blonde hair that goes down past his ears, and beady little black eyes. He is shorter that I am, but right now he is stronger than me, and his hand digs into my arm.
There is no light in the hallway, but after all we don’t require light to see. The closer we get to Marcus’ office, the heavier my stomach feels. Dread fills my body, my usual sensation when I am in Marcus’ presence. But this time… it feels substantially worse. This can’t be good. Why would he wake me in the middle of the night? What could be the reason? I’ve been in my room the last few days. I’ve done nothing to make him mad.
As we reach the door, Franklin reaches in front of me to open the door. With a hand at my back, he forcibly shoves me into the room, making me stumble. I glare at him over my shoulder but he just smiles, and closes the door sealing me inside. Alone with him.
Marcus’ office is a large room with one large window in the wall across from the door. In front of his window is a massive oak desk that faces the door. Marcus is standing between the window and the desk, staring out the window with his hands behind his back. I don’t need to see his face to know that there is a scowl forming on it.
“How is it that I ended up with a daughter that struggles to simply walk into a room?” He says.
I could tell him that Franklin shoved me, but he would never take my side. He never has before.
Marcus turns around to face me, the features of his face displaying his disgust for me. When I was younger I would have flinched. Now, I just stare in return, waiting patiently for the next hurtful thing he comes up with. He steps around the desk, and leans back against it, crossing his legs at the ankles, and he studies me.
He is not a tall man, nor would he be considered a large man. The only powerful thing about him is the position he holds, yet compared to other packs, he is barely a blip on the radar. He craves the power he doesn’t have. Observing the two of us, there is no one on this green earth that would ever think of us as father and daughter. I stand at nearly six feet tall, whereas Marcus is around five foot five. He has greasy brown hair that hangs in limp waves across his face, and I have stark white hair that flows down my back. He has a small round face with beady brown eyes that are always filled with rage, yet mine are large, bright, and a rare violet color. His head hangs on his shoulders as if he is talking down to every person he meets. And let’s face it, he is talking down to them. He knows his status of power, and that he is low on the food chain, and yet he still believes himself to the best. Almost as if he has some secret that no one else knows.
After a moment of silence, he orders, “I need you to go to your room and pack all your belongings.”
His face remains a neutral disgust, showing no additional emotion at all. Hope blooms in my chest, but I squash the silly feeling down. This has to be a trick. There is a catch somewhere. This is a joke and I am just waiting for the punch line. There is no way he would let me go, just like that.
My voice is quiet when I ask, “Why?”
I feel the growl before I hear it. He doesn’t like to be questioned, most of all by me. Still, he answers me.
“An opportunity arose. And I took it.”
“What opportunity?” I can hear the irritation in my voice, but I can’t help it. I don’t like his games.
“Careful,” he says in warning. I bristle. “I have made a deal with another Alpha. His son is coming into his powers. He is getting ready for the change. But he doesn’t have a mate. You are to go with the Alpha, and you will be married to his son.”
Most of the time, when someone wants to be an Alpha, they have to fight the current Alpha for the position, to prove that they are strong enough. Other times the Alpha position is inherited. If an Alpha wills away his powers to someone else, then that other wolf gets all of the Alpha’s powers.
He stares at me. He stares as if he expects me to be okay with this. I stare at him, waiting for him to tell me that he is joking. But I’ve never seen him make a joke.
“You cannot be serious,” I nearly yell, completely outraged. When he doesn’t respond, I retreat. “No, I won’t do it. No-”
Before I can finish, he is in front of me, and his hand is gripping my chin, bringing my face so close to his, I can smell his fowl breath.
“You. Will. Do as I say,” he growls. His fingers dig in, and I cry out. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I seethe from both pain and anger.
He releases me, but he does not back away.
“What pack?” I whisper.
“Blackheart.”
Growing up, the one thing I knew was that Marcus did not like the Blackhearts. He despised them. They seemed to be the exact opposite of Marcus. They seemed good.
From the stories that I have heard, the Blackhearts are people who take care of each other. They treat each other with respect, and as equals. Marcus’ pack mainly contains men because they see women as only needed for certain things. They are not allowed positions in the pack, because the men feel women are only servants. The Blackhearts welcome people who are different, and don’t expect the woman to cook, and clean, and have babies, just because they are woman. They take care of everyone because every single person in the pack is essential to making the pack last and be larger than life. Marcus’ pack is so small because he has pushed so many people away with his hateful and callous attitude. In Marcus’ eyes the Blackhearts are weak because they do not turn people away. They don’t discern the weak from the strong. In Marcus’ eyes if you are in any way weak, you do not belong in his pack.
“What did you get out of this? Why is this so important to you?” I ask.
The fist hits me before I can even react. A loud crack fills the air, and pain erupts in the side of my face. I fall to the floor from the impact of the hit, clutching my jaw in pain.
“Never question me!” He screams, his round face red with rage, his teeth sharp and lengthening, spit flying all over.
His anger must have triggered his change. He rushes towards me, grabs me by my forearms, pushing me into a wall with his fingernails digging into my arms. He relinquishes his hold on my arms to grip my jaw once more and lift me completely off the floor. I gasp as his nails cut the sore skin around my face. My face burns and all I want to do is scream. He forces me to look at him. His eyes have changed color to a dark yellow. Just like the wolf in my dream.
“You will go to your room, and you will pack. In exactly one hour, you will come downstairs and you will go with Damon Blackheart. You will join their pack, and you will not embarrass me. Do you understand?”
I nod the best I can.
“Speak,” he orders.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Yes, what?” His grip tightens.
“Yes. Alpha,” I spit the last word out with disgust.
End of Chapter One
If your interested in reading more, check out my book at the link below.
Catherine Kos - Author 
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