Brothers

"You poor thing" he heard his mother's voice as he felt her touch his cheek gently. She was his only ally, the only one who didn't hurt him, didn't hate him. "You are cursed and it's my fault." she whispered as she held him close. Her embrace always felt like home, her scent sweet while her eyes always looked at him with a mix of pity and love. He was cursed indeed, he had known that from the moment he was able to understand the world around him. Notice the stares and listen to the whispers a bit more carefully. 

"A wolf with white hair…" they would whisper amongst themselves. "The moon god must hate him." 

No one would ever tell him why or what was that despise they so hatefully talked about. They would simply detest him because he did not look like them.

"Mother….I hate this place." he told her, hiding his face in his embrace. He was young, just a little child, trembling at the thought of being with anyone else around than his mother. 

"I do too little one, I am so sorry, your curse….it's all my fault." she repeated but he couldn't understand, he had no idea what his mother meant by that but even if it was her fault he wouldn't hate her, he could never. She was the only one who had shown him love, the only one who called him by his name. No matter what his mother asked of him he would do it.

"It's alright." He tried to comfort her and he felt her squeeze him harder in his arms. More and more, until he couldn't breathe, until he felt trapped. "Mum…" he called her, screaming her name as he felt his bones starting to crack from her strength. She was going to crush him. He was going to die, he was suffocating. "Help!" He shouted. 

"What the hell is wrong with you!" His brother's voice woke him up, making him jump from his bed and fall on the wooden floor face first, disoriented. "Stop screaming, you are bothering everyone." he scolded him and he looked around, trying to get it together. 

Just a nightmare, he thought and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was sweating, his white hair stuck on his forehead and neck while the sheets were tangled all over his feet as he took them with him on his fall. 

He wasn't a little kid anymore, he was older than in his dreadful dream, already nineteen while his mother, well, she was not there, not her, not his father, both of them were dead. They had died six months ago during an attack while protecting their pack, leaving him alone with his brother, Zeth. 

"Sorry." He mumbled as he got up, looking around. "Why are you in my room?" he asked his younger brother. Zeth had just turned eighteen, his birthday was last week and he had officially become the Alpha of the Highfangs, their pack, even though he was younger and not supposed to be the leader. No one wanted him to be a leader though, his father had made sure that someone like him, cursed, was not supposed to become the Alpha of their pack. Zeth was lucky. By the rule of werewolves the one chosen by the Alpha, which was a hereditary position, had to fight their father to death to prove they were worthy or else die in battle. Their father was dead so his younger brother easily resumed the position like a victor with no fear of losing his life. 

"I came to wake you up. They need an extra hand in the library and I recommended you to them."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted to annoy you of course. Now go, you are already late and you will get scolded" he told him, looking happy with the idea of him becoming once more a laughingstock. "Oh, and Astor, take a shower, you look like you have been through hell." he mocked him before leaving him alone. 

Zeth knew that he hated leaving the house. Everyone would be looking at him, talk behind his back and no one in particular would treat him well. Some would act as if he didn't exist, and others would blatantly make fun of him or push him around. Things were a bit better when his mother was here but now that Zeth was in charge he did not care how his older brother was being treated. Even though he too was the son of their leaders he was being treated as something worse than a peasant.

He hopped in the shower, letting the warm water relax his tense muscles. The nightmare had upset him and he dreaded the moment he would have to walk around the compound. The Highfangs lived in a secluded forest behind the north mountains, their population big enough to ensure their survival. Many other packs lived like them, usually working as lumberjacks and hunters while sending their children to school in the closest towns. Their compound had everything you could ask for, ensuring that everyone would return one day by the rules of the pack. In other words, they were chained to this place, unable to ever actually leave. 

Times were slowly changing though. Some packs were deciding to move to the bigger cities, rejecting the traditional structure of a compound. Astor had always been curious as to what it was like not to be surrounded by the same people every day, doing the same things. 

Unfortunately, his pack had always been traditional, following the rules, so relocating to the city didn't seem to be in their future plans. 

"Do not waste all the hot water!" Zeth banged on his door again taking him away from his thoughts. 

"I am done!" He exclaimed and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel as he headed towards the bathroom sink. 

Looking at himself in the mirror he realized his brother was right. He did look as if he had been through hell. He had dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was so deathly pale did not help. His white hair covered his field of vision and he pulled it back, revealing a pair of what others called, terrifying, green eyes. 

Astor was completely different from his kin, causing them all discomfort. Werewolves usually were tanned, with olive skin only a few exceptions of those who lived in the icy areas but no one was ever so sickly looking while his white hair was first seen in hundreds of years, the same with his vibrant eyes. 

That's why he was hated by all, because he looked like a failed experiment, even though he was quite handsome, he didn't fit in and that scared the rest. He got quickly dressed, not even thinking about having breakfast with his brother. Zeth did not really like him and they were never on good terms but Astor chose to remain in the same house as him since he promised his mother he would help him become a responsible Alpha. He didn't know how his brother was going to evolve but he certainly looked the part. He was strong with short brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes with long black eyelashes. The young werewolf looked just like their father when he was young, with a killer smile and endless charm making him well-liked and a heartbreaker. He found him devouring his breakfast at the kitchen table, deciding they didn't have to exchange greetings. 

Astor headed to the exit, grabbing the doorknob with a disgusted expression. The bright sun hit him directly on the face, making him frown. He didn't want to go out but he had to, his Alpha had asked it after all. 

"Fuck it." He mumbled, stepping outside hoping that nothing too extreme would happen. 

Luck though was never on his side.