His White Warrior (Book #1)

I am a White Warrior, one of the last. My mother and father met on accident, fate brought the two mates together. Both of them were White Warriors, and I was their only child, the only heir. At birth I already had a giant weight placed on my shoulders, because I was the last unmated female of our bloodline. The White Warriors were infamous, we were after all warriors, and many people feared us because we were skilled killers. The bloodline is dominating and covers up all and any fault that a chosen mate may have created, making all descendants the same. Our hair is always platinum blonde, our eyes violet, our skin forever pale and unblemished, our facial features angular and our wolves pure white. White Warriors were supposed to be trained at birth and continuously trained through their lives, a task the parents take responsibility of. My mother trained me in the art of flexibility and my Father trained me in hunting until we were attacked by human hunters, who hunted our kind until me and my family were left. They killed my mother when I was five. My father wasn't the same after that, he became paranoid, losing all connections with other packs and friends. He trained me harder, forcing me to learn skills in days. At age five, after my mother's death, he trained me in hunting. I learned how to shoot a crossbow, throw knives, spears, clubs, shooting guns, and tracking. He would refuse to feed me unless I brought home a rabbit or bird. I became very thin until the skill finally stuck and by my sixth birthday I could hunt a fairly large sized deer with ease. When I was six years old, he trained me in surviving the wild, saying I wasn't always going to be in my wolf form and I had to learn how to survive in my human form, even though I couldn't shift yet. He taught me the different types of plants and their uses. Also taught me how to make fires, build shelters, climb trees, mask my scent, how to not be tracked, cooking, bathing, making clothes, and animal calls. He would give me a variety of plants that may or may not be poisonous and make me choose between them, fortunately he never had to use the antidotes. Then he would leave me outside for the day, without care, and I would have to create a fire and hunt my own food that day. Sometimes he would even steal all of my clothes that day and kick me out of the house for a few days, making me create cover, shelter, and fend for myself. Several times I almost died that year but he broke down because I was the last. At my seventh birthday we switched to muscle. He made me do extreme exercises that would leave me exhausted at the end of the day, and extremely sore in the morning. If I cried I was s*****d, if I complained I would be forced to sleep outside that night. He would wrestle me until I couldn't move anymore, or was about to break a bone. Several times my shoulder was almost dislocated. I gained plenty of muscle, so much I could carry twice my weight and was equal with the 'easy' wrestles my father gave me. At my eighth birthday we started to do gymnastics. He made me a bar to balance upon, but also thin enough to do pull ups, chin ups, and swinging on. We still practiced the other skills along with the current one, so I did other activities during the years as well. I soon was able to lift a leg over my head, and a bridge from the standing position was considered easy. He still pushed me until I was swinging from the trees like Tarzan during the summer time. Until I became of age at eighteen I could survive, shift, fight, win, use strategy, make fire, play piano, sniff out poisons, kill, make weapons, weave cloth, fish, drive anything, withstand temperatures of 120 through -10 without extra clothes, speak many languages, and hundreds of other skills. He taught me how to make a certain cloth that could keep me dry and wouldn't get stained. It was waterproof, you could say, but it was also white. I used this cloth to hide my body when I went to town, Father aged quickly without a purpose anymore, and I soon became infamous in the small town. It was run by werewolves, I knew this, but they had the best supplies and were the closest so I went there to stock up on flour, ammo and other supplies we needed. I was almost invincible so I wasn't scared about being caught by the other wolves that patrolled the edges of the area, actually beat a lot of them up, but what my Father never explained to me is about mating, and he wouldn't until that one day that changed a lot of things. Being in the Bloodline of the White Warriors, I wouldn't expect anything to be easy It was a cold winter day, cold to others. It was about, negative three outside and I just came in with several squirrels in my hands when Father came at me with a kitchen knife. This was our routine, he would come up with a pattern of times he would attack me and I would have to figure it out. I quickly threw the meat into the kitchen and duck out of the way, kicking the hand that held the weapon. I grabbed the now empty, outstretched hand and yanked it over my shoulder, flipping my father to the floor, and placed a foot on his back to hold him in place. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, every third week of the month." I whispered and pulled him upright. He lets out a satisfied chuckle and picks the knife from the ground several feet away from us. I grab my kill again and bring them into the freezer, only to duck as my Father stabs the area my head was in. I swipe his feet and he falls to the ground. Father stays still as I grab the knife from his hand and throw it into the sink. He lays on the ground, laughing, until I pick him up and place him in his usual spot, the couch. He has grown weaker and weaker over the month and usually only gets up to attack me. "Salt." He says, his voice raspy and worn. "And?" I ask, pausing to hear the list. "Seeds for spring planting, paper, gas, oil, onions, peppers, ammo." He finishes. "The usual ammo?" I ask. Father nods and I walk into my room. It was a small space with a bed and dresser, but a hidden room that is used for my closet and other equipment like bags and assorted storage was underneath. The whole room was painted white, along with the dresser and simple bed. White is the colour of my heritage. I pull out the bottom dresser drawer and press the switch in the back compartment, and hear the door go loose, standing up and pulling back the carpet on one corner of the room to enter the hidden room. I slip on my shirt, my pants, wrap my hands and feet in their usual covering, and lastly pull my light hair into a tight bun for my mask before grabbing a white bag and exiting the room. I set the carpet back into its corner and grab a few hundred dollar bills from the top drawer of the dresser, then slip my mask on. I only use the mask when I leave the house, even if I'm just going down into the woods. It is only a wrapping that goes around my entire head, but leaves my eyes uncovered, to keep my identity secret. It actually doesn't help very much, all White Warriors are born with violet eyes. But I need to hide my face from everyone, even if they do not know me, but if they saw my face they could recognize me if I ever took it off, and I would be on their kill list. The White Warriors are still on the hunt and kill list of werewolf hunters, even other werewolves. We are hunted everywhere, but even though we are thought to be extinct, some still think we exist. Which we do. I pass by the couch, Father snoring gently, and I blow him a silent kiss. Even if he tells me to never show or have emotion, he is the only parent I have left, and the only thing I care about. I make quiet steps out the door and grab my snowmobile helmet from its stand by the door. I put it on and adjust it quickly before swinging a leg over the machine and starting the engine. Giving it throttle, I lurch forward and start my journey to the town or werewolves. They call it South Valley. I go on my usual trail, leading off at random places and coming back, to make it seem as if it leads to other places, A trick my father taught me. I smile and go faster, using my trained senses to avoid the trees as I go by. In under an hour I get my first sighting of a patrolling werewolf, a brown wolf that barely has enough time to register my vehicle shooting through the trees before I speed off without him. I make sure he isn't following me and continue driving until I see several other snowmobiles parked and bring mine alongside theirs. I kill the engine and jump off of it quickly. I pull off my helmet and hang it off of the right handlebar, checking my bag and money, then stepping out into the streets of the town. It's relatively empty for being noon, so I proceed with caution as I enter a dollar store for paper and salt. As I enter the woman behind the counter goes rigid and I give her a long look before walking down a few aisles and find a large cylinder container of salt. I walk down a few more until I find notebooks and grab those as well. I bring my items to the woman and hold them out. With a hesitant hand she takes them from me and scans them, and I hand her a hundred dollar bill. She is about to make change for it, but I put out a hand and she stops. "Keep the change." I whisper, disguising my voice to make it slightly deeper. The woman stares at me with wonder before sliding the whole dollar away and smiling. I open the door to leave the store. "Have a nice day!" She calls, but I only nod to her and place my objects into my bag. I search through the rest of the stores, streets still empty, until I find a small grocery store sign peeking above the roofs several streets down. I start walking in that direction, bracing myself against the sudden wind that blows through the stores.  Somewhere nearby a store door opens, but the person gasps and shuts it again. Several streets go by before I see the Walmart and slip inside. The workers hide behind shelves as I pass by, not paying attention yet hearing every move they made. I find the produce section and grab a bag of onions and some peppers, then I make my way to the checkout and buy those also, the cashier surprised at my tip. I leave the building into the still abandoned streets and make my way to the gun store I know they have. I always have to steal from them, because there is no way I am giving them any information about me. I bring my stuff back to my snowmobile and hang the bag on the other handlebar before going back over to the gun store and going in through the door. I avoid all their security camera limits and get what I came for, the workers hardly reacting. Since I do this a lot, they always remember the first time they tried to defend their store. I smile at the memory as I sprint back to my snowmobile. I easily swing my leg back over it and start it up, securing my new supplies in my bag and wrap it on my back. I rev up the engine without my helmet and take off back to where I came from, the snow powdery and billowing behind me. My snowmobile actually has been modified, along with our other vehicles. With better traction, a quieter engine and more speed this has been made for getaways and fast paced action scenes. Give me some upbeat music and enemies and I would have quite a chase scene. Soon after I pass the mark where the patrolling werewolves usually are and a large black figure comes hurtling through the air at me, but at last minute I flip off of the snowmobile, which slows to a stop a few yards ahead, and it misses. I dash ahead of me to jump back on but the large wolf blocks my path quickly, teeth snapping and growling. I stop and stand in place, a tingly feeling spreading through my body until it reaches my head. Mate, a voice inside me says. A voice that didn't belong. The other wolf suddenly shifts into a man. A very muscular, handsome, and naked man I should add. His eyes catch mine and we stare at each other for several minutes until I snap out of the trance he placed me in. He takes a step in advance towards me so I get into a low fighting stance and growl to warn him off. The naked man laughs and several other wolves, brown in colour, jump through the trees and begin to circle me. I keep my eyes on one at a time, but yet all at the same time, not letting my guard down. The tingly feeling spreads through my body once more, and the one word goes through my head. Mate. Mate. Mate. "So, my mate turns out to be the infamous White one. Not much of a surprise, who else is better for an Alpha?" The naked man says. His companions give out wolfish laughs at his cocky comment. "And rebellious, a thief--more reasons to punish her. If you thought you could have gotten away with your actions because of your status, think again." The man says and I growl again. The large man shifts back into his black wolf, so I growl louder. The black wolf nods his head at me and the wolves circling me charge, but I was expecting this and jumped up to a nearby tree. I grab and clasp at the trunk until I reach a high branch out of reach, and the wolves growl and bark at me loudly. I balance until I see another branch nearby, and jump to it. I do this several times until one of the branches I grab is covered with ice and I am left hanging by my clothed hands. The wolves below go crazy at my struggling and start jumping for my dangling legs, but I wait until the right moment and fall directly on my feet in a crouched position. The wolves spring back in surprise, but lunges forward at me. I dodge their attacks and dash off into the forest, jumping off of fallen logs and going over deep snow drifts, leaving my snowmobile behind. My father trained me with speed, so I can run faster than the werewolves in pursuit of me. I jump over another log when the black wolf, probably the Alpha, jumps in front of me. I make a hard turn right and head in the direction of the river cliff, my perfect escape. The ice is always slightly thin, and with a good hard kick or fall I could disappear from my hunters and get away. I dodge through the trees until I reach the small clearing and stop at the edge, like I just noticed I almost fell over. I turned around acting surprised and the wolves lined up around me, thinking they were covering all exits. The river is maybe three stories down, not qualified as an exit to them, I would guess. The Alpha walks in between them and shifts once more, so I try to avoid looking downwards at his...nakedness. "You will come with us." He says in a deep tone that gives me tingles again, something I'm not used to. I shake my head at him and resume my fighting stance, one foot out to the side and crouching on the other. Mr. Alpha takes a step closer. "You will take your punishment and become our Luna." He growls in a demanding tone. My father told me about the tone Alphas have, it can intimidate you, make you do something they command. I pretend to be controlled and stand up, letting my head drop. I can see Mr. Alpha smile with victory and hold out a hand, but right before I grab it I suddenly turn around and dive off the cliff. "No!" The Alpha yells before my hands break through the ice and I go under, the slow current leading me away from my entry point slightly, but not enough to lose precious energy to go against it. I see their figures dart away from the cliff and I take that moment to try to climb out, not knowing they came back to the hole minutes later. They run closer and make me suck in a large amount of air, diving back under, the chilling water slowly trying to seep into my clothes. I feel the current for a moment before swimming with it, leaving my positive means of survival behind and to hope the ice is thin enough to break through later on. I'm suddenly glad my father taught me how to stay underwater for about two minutes, maybe more. Today, we will find that out. I keep swimming until my lungs start constricting from lack of air, so I roughly bang at the ice until cracks form and break through, but I only allow my face to go and and take another breath before diving down again. My poor notebooks. I make sure all my supplies are still on my back, my eyes stinging from the cold murky river water, and keep swimming. After I need another breath I break through the ice and this time I climb out, slowly and cautious. After rolling away from my hole I scan my surroundings, all senses at attention, until I know I am alone and take a deep breath. I stand up and walk off of the frozen river, dripping water, and check my supplies. The paper is a little deformed, but somehow the salt container didn't leak water, being the magical container it is. I lost a pepper but my onions and ammo are fine, just a bit wet. I place them back into my bag and sling it over my shoulder when I hear a sad howl in the distance. Mr. Alpha was declaring his loss. I hang my head down at the heart-wrenching noise and trudge through the snow until I reach a familiar snowmobile trail and follow it home. The old house welcomes me and I step inside, my footsteps still soggy, and place my bag on the counter of the kitchen. "I didn't hear you come up." My father says, still on the couch. "I was attacked. Had to leave the snowmobile behind. Went through the river. Paper's deformed, but the salt's okay. Nothing else lost." I say quickly and throw him the notebooks. I turn around and place the other objects in their places before sitting at the other end of the couch by his feet. Something was still on my mind, something that didn't make sense. "What's a mate?" I ask. My father opens one eye and looks at me. "Why do you ask this?" He says. "A man said I was his mate, one of my attackers." I say. Both of my father's eyes open. "A mate is a term used for the person you are made for. You know how I used to say your Mother and I were mates?" he asks, sitting up, and I nod. "Well, we were destined to be with each other, created just for that person. But, Ivory, you must know this. If this man you speak of is your mate, do not be with him. Do not trust anyone but yourself. Werewolves revolve around s*x, and that is all your relationship will be. In their life they mate with s*x, they reproduce with s*x, they claim with s*x, they punish with sex." He says and I almost shiver in disgust at the thought. The Alpha did say punish after all. I couldn't imagine giving up my virginity. Father made it seem like such a sacred thing, and I knew that it was. "There are a few other things I have decided not to tell you. Like mating, or heat." He says. I settle into the couch end and watch him, prepared for my next lesson. "First off, your mate is the only one for you, no other will love you like he would, no other will give you the right feeling when you are with them. You are the only one who can satisfy them, the only who can trigger love in their hearts." He says and I nod my head. "Next is mating, do you notice the mark on my neck?" He asks and pulls the collar of his shirt down a little until I see the bite mark, my Mother's. "He will do the same to you, if he marks you. You will mark him also, at the same time would be best. The fleshy part of the neck is where you do this, right where the neck meets the shoulder. After you do this, you can not be separated. If one dies, you will feel the pain of their death as if you died yourself." He says somberly. I nod for him to keep going. "If you two mate, it involves what werewolves do best, and that is s*x. You must become one, and when you mark each other, or if you already have, then you are permanently bonded. You can hear each other's thoughts, feel each other's pain and emotions, you feel complete, you feel whole." He says and places a hand over his heart, thinking of Mother. I never really had a chance to get to know her past the time I could remember things, I was only five. That gave me two years to remember her if children start getting memories at age three. My father already avenged her death, those hunters never saw us coming, even if I was only nine when I killed them. "I must warn you. Do not stay with him. You can not trust him. He is an outsider, one who hunts us, and you must not tell him about your bloodline. He may see it on your features, but you must not tell the truth. If I were you, I would have his child, then come back into hiding. We need to keep the lineage going, we need to protect the heritage." He says. I nod with understanding, then leave the room to get out of my dripping clothes and stoke the fireplace.