Wereball Serie - Along Came A Mate
Book 1 - Chapter 1

'The specific causes of neurological problems vary, but can include genetic diseases, congenital abnormalities or infections, environmental or lifestyle health problems including malnutrition and brain injury, spinal cord injury, nerve injury and gluten. Metal poisoning, in which metals accumulate in the human body and disrupt biological processes, has been reported to induce neurological problems, at least in the case of lead-′

“Yvaine!”

My twin brother entered my room with his typical grace, without knocking, interrupting my night readings.

Neurobiological Disorders.

My idea of a relaxation book.

“Where’s Lucky?” Lachlan asked, already starting to rummage through my drawers of medical books, fake human body parts, and surgical equipment. Since I loved wearing his giant clothes, half of his wardrobe was always in my room. Lucky was his football jersey, also known as my favourite pyjama by far, as well as the shirt to wear when taking any of my university exams.

With a sly smile, I pointed to the chair in the corner, Plutos standing beside it. My pet.

“Hi P!” Lachlan greeted, scratching its chin and then moving behind the hairy ears, receiving a purr of appreciation. Its size was far more massive than a typical pet’s.

Because, let’s be honest, Plutos was not a typical pet...

After my brother finally found his quarterback shirt, his eyes focused on the nice little portrait in front of him: Amaia, Tiziano, and I all laying on my bed, the three of us busy with our evening routines.

“So, are you nerds coming to the game on Saturday?”

Tiziano was engrossed by the beep of his mobile phone and ”Varicose Veins”.

Studying to become a successful cardiologist, he also boasted of an active social life. Just this week he had gone out with two different guys, attended a surgery that lasted fourteen hours straight, and went to classes the rest of the time.

Amaia, on the other hand, had immersed herself in writing another manuscript, typing nonstop on that old-fashioned laptop, the type that overheated the surrounding environment and continuously made noise.

I couldn’t imagine surviving my third year of college without them. The three of us were inseparable. Sharing a huge passion like medicine somehow tied us to each other; living together contributed to our everlasting bond.

“Of course I will!” Tiziano blew a fake kiss to Lachlan, who grinned in response. “I haven’t missed a single game since the first time I met you!” That had been an awfully long time ago, long enough to compete with the old kind of “once upon a time.”

Tiziano was part of our pack, the chief surgeon’s son, explaining his brazen passion for medicine.

Unlike me, who was specializing in neurosurgery, Tiziano had always preferred the organ of love rather than the brain, arguing that the heart has a brain of its own, thus making it more interesting. The brain of the heart, like the brain itself, has an intricate network of neurons, neurotransmitters, proteins, and supporting cells. It can act independently of the cranial brain and possesses extensive sensory capabilities.

On top of that, Tiziano, hopeless romantic and great supporter of fairy tales, agreed with the Greek philosophers: the heart is linked to our strongest emotions, including love. Heart beat brain, according to him. Our never-ending dispute will continue until the end of time. Not a single day will pass without an argument to justify the supreme importance of our favorite organs.

“I can’t, Lach, I’m sorry. I have to finish this damned article and tomorrow I have extra shifts at work.” A long sigh accompanied those words. Amaia’s life revolved mainly around studying hard to become the best oncologist ever known in history and working overtime to afford those studies that will turn her into a cancer’s warrior.

We only spotted her in the evenings due to her busy schedule, while our quality time with her consisted of studying together in the library. There were some adventurous moments when we discovered new places to read or study, perhaps in a quiet corner or next to an ancient statue in one of the university’s many halls.

Sometimes we found cute cafes where we could chat about the latest medical news, repeat every name of each bone, clarify doubts, or discuss problematic clinical cases. Unless Tiziano or I had a code red, we would never hang out with Amaia to do anything else. Her serious expression and permanent frown showed she was too busy to even smile. Although a harsh past and the destruction cancer had caused in her family, making her realize how little time we had to defeat this invisible and silent enemy, could be the cause for that, too.

“Cool! And you, sis?” Lachlan focused his cheerful smile on me, ignoring Amaia’s refusal as if he had asked her if she would go to the game out of mere courtesy. “Are you in?”

I winced and took my time to process my answer, watching my twin cross his strong arms in front of his chest. While I enjoyed watching a football game, or rather, a wereball game, I equally loathed witnessing my brother being punched, bitten, attacked, kicked, and pushed all the time.

Since Lachlan was the captain of the team that represented both our college and our pack, he always became the main target of the rival team and end up seriously injured after each game, regardless of the werewolves’ healing properties. But no number of injuries could keep Lachlan away from wereball, and I had learned to accept that over the years.

“Fine.” I gave up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout my life, I had heard several conflicting opinions about wereball.

Fun, intense, traditional, bloody, brutal.

As much as I hated my brother and his pack’s friends getting smashed during a game, I had to acknowledge that the sport brought people together and gave them something to look forward to.

My brother had been the captain of our team since his first year of college when he challenged the previous captain, a werewolf four years older than him. Exactly like my father did back in the days, before completing college and officially becoming the Alpha of our pack.

Even my mother had been a wereball captain in her former pack back in Scotland. The women’s wereball league is just as bloody as the men’s.

I had never participated, as I would be continually distracted by guessing which bone a player had just broken, what kind of symptoms a certain injure would evoke, and so on. The world was too distracting for me to focus on a sport game.

During the intercollegiate championship, three main teams always won.

Either the one associated with my pack, the Comet, or the team that belonged to Dark Diamond.

Golden Fur, our neighbouring pack, had managed to win a title or two through the years.

Dark Diamond was our colleague’s number one rival.

And the rivalry did not end there.

Our packs fought several bloody wars in the old times. Then the modern era kicked in and put an end to medieval habits such as burning an entire pack, challenging an Alpha, slaughtering mates, sending gangs of rogues to enemy territories, to name a few. Nowadays, a relative peace reigned between werewolf packs. Most rogues lived in human cities either because they had human mates or did not care about being part of a pack.

At least in this geographical area.

Europe and some parts of Asia were a whole different story. Some issues still remained, like rogues plundering territories and ferocious wars between packs for power and supremacy.

Black Devilis the largest pack beyond the ocean. Despite the harsh reputation, they had reduced their barbaric habits, although I found it remarkably interesting when we visited them. I felt catapulted into a different time.

Our closeness with them began over twenty years ago. It all started when one of their pack members moved to Scotland and joined my grandfather’s pack, becoming a great friend of my mother, who was about my age at the time.

Since then, my parents formed a long-term bond with Black Devil.

The relationship was strengthened by the fantastic friendship between me and Lachlan with two of the Black Devils, Archie and Aurora.

AN/ Yvaine is a Scottish name, to be pronounced ‘ee-vayn’

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