The Transformation

It would hurt a lot but not as it would if he had rejected his role.

Angelo had accepted the bond with the werewolves, which mean that his transformation would restore the broken mind links and the regular lives of the packs, but that wouldn't mean that they would be able to bond with their mates.

The only way the wolves would be whole was when the alpha king and queen had accepted their bond. But as they all knew, their queen was already on her way out of their world and was possibly thinking she was on her way to death.

Everyone looked forward to the first run with their rulers, but they were aware that their alpha queen was not with them. Most people were not happy with Rhian's choice and would wake up to hell the following day.

They all knew that because Rhian would have the worst transformation. That was because she was alone, had rejected the werewolf bond, and had refused to be what she was slowly becoming. She literally had no idea who she was in the werewolf world.

She was a stubborn one, and her stubbornness would make her pay the price.

Midnight was almost, and Angelo was feeling overwhelmed. He and all the other wolves were in afield close to their boundary. Everyone wanted to be there when the boundaries opened because they would get to go home.

The first run would be with their alpha, although the alphas and their lunas always led the full moon's first run.

They would really feel the emptiness.

Even with all the people who were like him, Angelo was scared.

He was not as strong as he was when he came here or when he had shown up. He was scared of the pain and everything else. He had been told that his soul would be connected to those of the werewolves during the transformation.

He would feel their pain and relief.

He would feel their anger and anxiety.

He would feel everything they felt, and it would be overwhelming. But they told him he was strong and that he would be able to conquer the fears and take up his role in the kingdom, but that never meant his fears would just disappear.

The warlocks understood him.

Everyone understood his fears, and that didn't make him weak. He was a normal seventeen-year-old boy who was scared of the reality that his eighteenth birthday would plunge him into. He didn't know how to react to all of that.

He didn't know how to be comfortable with the idea that scared the fuck out of him. But he would be okay.

He was Angelo morgan, and he would be okay.

He had to be.

When the clock struck midnight, everyone formed a circle around him. They wanted him to feel comfortable with the whole idea of transforming into a werewolf. They wanted to show their support to him, even though he was their hope in the real sense.

His wolf would determine whether or not he was accepted or challenged. But everyone knew there would be no challenging the person they had been waiting for eighteen years.

Everyone knew they would not take the chance and risk losing their sanity.

Any other alpha would be challenged, but no one ever dared to challenge their alpha king. That was like challenging the moon goddess's choices, and such challenges never ended well for the challenger because it was a challenge to their God.

And no one challenged their God and lived to tell the story.

When his bones started cracking, Angelo felt like he was dying. It hurt a lot. Sure they had told him that the transformation would hurt, but they never told him hit would be this bad. He had never felt such kind of pain.

He watched his fingers and toes transform into paws, his body became furry, and his whole physique changed.

In place of Angelo was albatross, the silver wolf. The wolf whose growl would force anyone into submission no matter how light it was. When Angelo had completely transformed, everyone was in awe.

They had read of the silver wolves ad what t meant to be one. The silver wolves and the white wolves were the goddess's personal creations. She hated taken her time with creating the silver wolves, which is why they were sporadic.

Well, they were the heirs of the alpha king lineae. That was how rare the silver wolves were. Despite the pain of transformation, the albatross was happy to be free. He felt like it had been literal years since he had been free.

It had been a while since he had seen a pack come together and surround the alpha. It had been way too long. He held his head high and howled while facing the moon, and all the other wolves had transformed already and howled with him too.

Angelo may have been a little boy, but albatross was an ancient wolf. He knew what to do, and that was the best thing that could ever have happened to this desperate race of werewolves.

All of them were worried about how they would take their time teaching their alpha how to lead and all that, but his wolf would be his guide.

He would take care of everything. Technically he was one with his wolf, and that made everything easier. The wolves were happy, though they were quite sad that Hera was not here.

If Hera had accepted the bond, they would have known whether or not she was dead. But she hadn't. Which meant hath it would take magic to trace her and find out where she was. They had to find her before she went all crazy and hurt people.

Even though an alpha king was dangerous, nothing would ever be more dangerous than an alpha queen who was away from her people and her mate. She would probably chew people's heads away in her quest for what was hers, but maybe Rhian's 'kindness' would control her wolf.

It was just a matter of when and not if.

They would get their alpha queen, but they were going to go for the alpha's first run for now.