Different and Banished

POV: Kinsley

I always knew I was fundamentally different from the rest of the Lunastone pack, but the painful, crushing reality of my existence never truly set in until I lost my mother.

My story didn't start in the werewolf world. It started in the terrifying, violent shadows of the human one. My mother, Elena, had fled her violently abusive human husband when I was nothing more than a fragile newborn. She had run out into a blinding rainstorm with me clutched tightly in her arms, absolutely terrified that he would finally cross the line and kill us both. She desperately ran deep into the dark, uncharted woods, pushing her human body to the absolute limit. That was where she got the scare of her life. A massive, terrifying wolf stepped out of the shadows, only to seamlessly shift into a towering, heavily muscled man right before her eyes.

"You're my mate. I've finally found you," he had told her, his voice thick with ecstatic disbelief.

To my mother, werewolves were the stuff of absurd fairy tales and horror movies. But when this wonderful, protective man began to patiently explain his world to her, gently wrapping her in his warm coat and taking her to his pack territory, she had already fallen deeply in love with him.

His name was Garrick. He was a formidable, highly respected warrior of the Lunastone pack. The pack barely tolerated our sudden presence. They were secretive and completely hostile to outsiders, treating us like fragile, unwanted pests. But Garrick fiercely defended us. He not only became her destined mate, but he stepped up and became my loving, fiercely protective adoptive father. When the other werewolves snarled and complained about having useless humans stinking up the packhouse, he would put his life on the line to shut them down.

"They should behave and help in the pack as much as they can," Alpha Vactor, the ruthless leader of the Lunastone pack, finally decreed, settling the matter with a cold glare.

So, we did exactly that. My mother and I diligently helped the low-ranking Omegas with the grueling daily chores, scrubbing floors and washing massive piles of laundry, even when Garrick vehemently objected to us being treated like servants.

Things improved dramatically for a brief, beautiful period when my mother became pregnant. The pack desperately needed more members, so when she gave birth to my twin werewolf brothers, everyone in the pack was absolutely thrilled. There hadn't been a set of twins born in Lunastone in decades, so the community happily welcomed my little brothers, Brooks and Bryce. For a fleeting moment, I felt like we belonged. I loved the idea of being a big sister, carrying them around and taking care of them as if they were my own flesh and blood.

But my fragile safety net evaporated completely when my mother tragically died shortly after giving birth to them. Her human body simply couldn't handle the immense strain of carrying two werewolf pups. She fell ill, grew weaker by the day, and eventually, she slipped away.

Garrick was utterly devastated. For a long, terrifying agonizing period, everyone in the pack whispered that he would succumb to the mate bond and die of grief as well. But he refused to leave us alone. He loved all three of us with a fierce, burning devotion, and he forced himself to keep living so he could fight for us.

With my mother gone, I became the sole human left in the entire pack. Without her quiet strength beside me, I was rendered an incredibly easy target for their relentless cruelty. At first, I was too young and too shielded by Garrick to notice the growing animosity. But as I grew older, I couldn't ignore the harsh reality. I noticed the deeply mocking gazes, the cruel laughter when I walked by, the venomous whispers that followed me like a shadow.

"She's just a weak human, someone else to worry about who can't even defend herself," a warrior would sneer as I walked past the training grounds.

"Besides, look how fat she is! Look at those thighs. She must be eating all our food!" a female werewolf would chime in, laughing viciously.

They constantly mocked my soft, curvy human body. In a world where every single werewolf was biologically wired to be hyper-athletic, lean, and overflowing with supernatural muscle, I was undeniably different. As puberty hit, my body changed. I wasn't built like them. I developed wide hips, a generous bust, and soft, rounded curves. To humans, I might have been considered voluptuous, but to the werewolves, I was a prime target for brutal body shaming. They called me a useless burden, a slow, chubby freak who possessed no wolf, no supernatural strength, and absolutely no hope of ever surviving a real threat.

Even the low-ranking Omegas, whom I diligently helped with daily chores late into the night, took immense pleasure in bullying me. I was at the absolute bottom of the social hierarchy, so they punched down. They would deliberately trip me in the dining hall, steal my few meager belongings, and hide my clothes while I was bathing. I would go home covered in bruises and dirt, hiding in my small room to cry in secret so Garrick wouldn't see.

"If we’re ever attacked by enemies, she will be the first to fall," the teenage werewolf girls would laugh loudly whenever I walked into the pack school. I had absolutely no friends.

"Imagine that chubby girl trying to run and getting caught by the rogues!"

"They'll have an absolute feast when they eat her!" others would howl in amusement.

"She will never have a mate. Who in the Goddess's name could be unlucky enough to be paired with a fat human?"

That last insult always cut the deepest. The relationships between werewolves and humans were incredibly rare. Deep down, I silently dreamed of having a mate—a companion who would look past my lack of a wolf, who would love my curvy body, who would love me unconditionally for who I was. But in this brutal world, it was all about dominance, power, and having a wolf. I would never have any of that.

My only remaining solace was my family. I frequently took the young twins out to the dense woods near the pack borders, trying to escape the suffocating hostility of the packhouse. I loved telling them stories about our mother. I desperately tried to focus on their innocent giggles, while desperately trying to ignore the cold, deeply mocking gaze of Zander Thorne.

Zander Thorne. He was the son of Alpha Vactor, the supremely arrogant future Alpha of the Lunastone pack. He was older than me, terrifyingly strong, and devastatingly handsome. He had striking, piercing blue eyes and massive, heavily muscled arms. Even as a teenager, his commanding aura forced everyone to bow to his whims. He was respected, feared, and universally adored by the pack females.

As for me? He went out of his way to treat me like I was worse than dirt. Whenever the other teenagers hurled cruel insults about my weight or my human weakness, Zander would stand there, his arms crossed over his broad chest, a vicious smirk playing on his lips as he laughed along with them. When I was forced to clean his quarters as part of my Omega duties, he looked right through me, treating me like a disgusting insect that had crawled onto his floor. I was a pathetic burden to him.

Everything I knew, every fragile piece of the miserable life I had built, shattered permanently one fateful afternoon in the dense forest.

I was sitting on a fallen log, watching Brooks and Bryce happily chase a butterfly near a cluster of large oak trees. I was completely lost in my own depressing thoughts, silently wishing I belonged somewhere, when my human instincts suddenly screamed danger. The woods went unnervingly quiet. The birds stopped singing.

Then, I heard it. Suspicious, stealthy noises. The distinct, terrifying crunch of dry leaves under heavy paws. The rancid, metallic stench of wet fur and rotting blood hit my nose. Rogues.

Acting purely on a massive surge of adrenaline, I didn't freeze. I sprinted toward the twins, grabbing them fiercely by the scruffs of their shirts.

"Kins, what's wrong?!" Brooks yelled, startled by my rough grip.

"Kids! Climb! Climb like we always practiced, head to the highest branches right now!" I ordered, my voice trembling with raw panic. I shoved them toward the massive, thick trunk of the oldest oak tree. I practically threw them upward, pushing their little bodies high up into the thick branches to hide them. I scraped my own knees and tore my fingernails on the rough bark as I scrambled up right behind them, desperate to get my curvy, slow body out of reach.

Peering frantically through the dense, trembling leaves, my breath hitched in my throat. I saw them. Bloodthirsty, feral rogues pouring out from the tree line, their eyes crazed, their jaws dripping with foul saliva as they sprinted toward our territory.

But as my eyes scanned the chaos, they caught something even more terrifying. Hanging back in the deep, obscured shadows of the forest, far away from the mindless frenzy of the rogues, stood a different group of wolves. They weren't feral. They were massive, highly organized, and their fur was covered in distinct, dark spots. They were deliberately pacing back and forth, silently directing the chaotic assault, pointing with their snouts and orchestrating the rogues like military commanders.

Desperate to save my pack, I didn't care if I gave away my position. I opened my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs to warn them.

"Attack! Rogues are attacking! Help!" I shrieked, my voice tearing through the serene forest.

Just as the words left my mouth, a snarling, violent rogue heard me. It lunged at the tree, its massive claws tearing into the bark. It leaped upward, its rotting, yellow teeth snapping violently just inches from my dangling boots. I screamed again, pulling my legs up tight against my chest, shielding the twins behind my back as the rogue fell back to the dirt, frustrated, before turning to sprint toward the packhouse where the alarm was finally sounding.

The ensuing battle in the distance was a savage, merciless bloodbath. I held my brothers for hours, listening to the horrifying sounds of ripping flesh, agonizing howls, and dying whimpers echoing through the trees, praying to a Moon Goddess that didn't even acknowledge my existence to keep Garrick safe.

When the sounds of slaughter finally died down, we carefully climbed down and returned to the pack grounds. The sight was absolutely gut-wrenching. The earth was heavily soaked in fresh blood. Mangled bodies of pack members lay scattered, covered in hastily thrown sheets. The air was thick with the suffocating scent of grief and death.

Garrick spotted us and ran over, his face covered in enemy blood, dropping to his knees to crush us into a desperate hug. "Kins! Oh, children, you're safe!"

But the relief didn't last a single second. The atmosphere around us turned instantly, violently hostile. Alpha Vactor, sporting a massive, bleeding gash across his chest, marched toward us. The furious survivors followed right behind him, their eyes burning with collective rage. They needed a scapegoat for their devastating casualties, and their furious gazes locked directly onto me.

"Where was the human?!" Alpha Vactor roared, his voice shaking with furious, unhinged anger. "Where were you?!"

"I was in the forest! I saw the attack coming and I screamed as hard as I could to warn you!" I cried out, shrinking back against Garrick.

"If she was a werewolf, she could have run back and warned us in time! She could have saved us!" a heavily wounded warrior spat, pointing a bloody finger at my face.

"My daughter saved her brothers and protected herself!" Garrick roared back, stepping firmly in front of me, barring his teeth at his own packmates. Brooks and Bryce whimpered in absolute terror, hiding behind my legs.

"She brought us this misfortune! Everyone knows humans are treacherous!" a female Omega screamed from the back of the crowd.

"It wasn't just rogues!" I desperately tried to defend myself, stepping out from behind my father. I needed them to understand the real threat. "I saw them! There were other wolves in the shadows. They were coordinating the rogues, directing the attack! They had spotted fur, and they were highly organized!"

The moment the words frantically left my mouth, the entire courtyard went dead silent. The crowd parted, and a towering, blonde man stepped forward, a deeply dark scowl twisting his features. It was Alpha Kruger of the powerful Sanguine Talons pack.

"Your insinuations are very serious, human," Alpha Kruger growled, his voice vibrating with lethal menace. "The only wolves in this region with spotted fur are from my pack, the Sanguine Talons. And my warriors only arrived here to help you fend off these rogues."

Alpha Vactor turned to me, his eyes blazing with absolute murderous intent. "You dare accuse our sworn allies?"

"But that's what I saw! They were commanding the rogues!" I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.

"She's blatantly lying!" a warrior shouted. "She's trying to cover up her own uselessness by insulting our allies!"

Before I could speak another word, Zander Thorne aggressively pushed his way to the front of the crowd. His handsome face was completely twisted in a vicious, ugly sneer. He stomped right up to me, invading my space, his broad chest rising and falling heavily. He screamed right in my face, completely humiliating me in front of the entire bleeding pack.

"How dare you judge our ally?!" Zander roared, his spittle hitting my cheek. "He is a pureblood Alpha! You are nothing! You're just a useless human who couldn't even warn us in time! You can’t run, you're completely weak, you can't defend yourself against anyone! You're just a pathetic, fat burden to us all!"

"She's a liar! A useless human liar!" the crowd chanted, their hatred swirling into a violent frenzy.

I was violently grabbed by the guards. I spent the next few agonizing days locked away in the damp, freezing, pitch-black pack dungeon. I sat on the freezing stone floor, shivering violently, crying until my eyes burned and my throat was raw. Garrick fiercely fought for me every single day. He came down to the cell bars, his eyes red with suppressed tears, offering to abandon his entire life, strip his rank, and leave the pack territory with me.

"I won't let them do this, Kins. We'll leave. All of us," he choked out.

But I tearfully begged him not to. "No, Dad, please. If you leave, you and the boys will be hunted down as rogues. You have to stay. You have to keep the twins safe. Please don't throw their lives away for me."

On my final night, the pack's cruelty reached its absolute peak. They dragged me out of the dungeon and hauled me into the center of the packhouse courtyard. A massive bonfire was roaring. I watched in sheer agony as they vindictively threw all my earthly belongings—my clothes, my small trinkets, and the very last photographs of my dead mother—into the roaring flames.

Zander Thorne marched up to me. He forcefully grabbed my fragile upper arm, his massive, werewolf grip instantly bruising my soft skin. I let out a sharp cry of pain, but he didn't care. He violently dragged me through the harsh dirt, pulling me all the way toward the pack's boundary line.

Behind me, I could hear Brooks and Bryce wailing in absolute devastation, screaming for me, fighting against Garrick's hold as he wept.

Zander shoved me hard across the invisible boundary line. I stumbled and fell hard into the cold mud, scraping my palms. I looked up at him, tears blinding my vision.

He stared down at me with unfiltered, toxic hatred. "You're a burden, and this pack will be infinitely better off without you. You are absolutely nothing to us! And Garrick isn't even your real father! Go back to your weak, pathetic people, you filthy human!" Zan spat, his words slicing through my heart like a silver blade.

He turned his back on me and walked away, leaving me sitting in the dirt.

I slowly pushed myself up. I was entirely alone. I turned my back on the only home I had ever known and began walking into the dark, freezing night, heading blindly toward the distant human town of Fairhaven. My heart was heavy with an unbearable, suffocating pain. I had been discarded like garbage, treated as less than nothing because of my human blood and my curvy body.

As I walked away, shivering in the cold wind, I firmly believed I would never again be forced to endure the brutal cruelty of the werewolf world. I thought I was finally free of them.

I was entirely unaware that my traumatizing past was already preparing to crash back into my life in the absolute worst way possible.