AN: Well, after a relatively positive response to my first story, I've decided to release the foundation chapter for my new fic. I won't be able to update daily this time, but it should be pretty regular. This one's a Paul "Origin" story, ultimately evolving into a Paul/Seth fic. That's right, Slash (M/M), and this time I plan to throw in some lemons. It will be slightly AU, as I have some pairings that I intend to change, and certain events may not turn out the same as in the original books.

Also, before I get started, I'd like to give a shoutout to Matt. Get well soon man, and I hope you enjoy this one when you get a chance to read it.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

Without further ado, here's the first chapter of "The Dark Wolf"

I looked at the odds before me. Sure, there may have been 3 of them, but it's not like any of them looked like they had much experience. They were bullies, picking on those that they thought would cower against them. They may have cornered me, but I was looking forward to this. Today they had chosen the wrong person.

"We've had it with you, Lahote. Nobody sleeps with my girlfriend and walks away unharmed" one of the boys sneered. I guess now I knew why this particular group was after me. What can I say? Whether it's because of the thrill of danger or the idea of pissing off their parents by hooking up with a 'badass' as they put it, girls seem to be attracted to me, and I'm not one to turn them down.

"You need to learn your place around here, outsider" another one chided, cracking his knuckles.

I just smirked, waiting for them to make a move. They weren't smart enough to come at me at the same time, so when the first tried, I laid him out with an elbow to the side of the head. As the other two looked at their downed friend, I charged without warning. One quick hook to the smaller one had him out, leaving just the leader of the trio. He took a swing and connected, but I shrugged it off before getting in a quick knee to his stomach and a forceful push on the back of his neck, sending him face first into the ground. I looked at the three sprawled out before me, a grin plastered on my face.

"So, what is my place? 'Cause from where I'm standing, it looks like it's on top." I chuckled, turning around and walking back to my house.

I walked in the front door and headed straight upstairs to my room, flopping down onto my bed. It was a shame that nobody really posed much of a challenge. I didn't really look for fights, but the easy ones that came were quickly losing their thrill and I was beginning to itch for something more.

I guess an introduction is in order. My name is Paul, Paul Lahote. I'm a 16 year old and they say that I have "anger issues" just because I happen to get in a fight every once in a while. I'm Native American, belonging to some tribe that my mom has mentioned before. Back when she was in high school, she had been in love with my dad, but apparently the thought of a kid was too much for him. He ditched when he found out that she was pregnant. Spineless bastard. Mom didn't give up though. She went through school, eventually getting her law degree. Since then, we'd been travelling throughout the country. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that she has provided for me over the years, but her job puts a constant strain on our relationship.

See, unlike most lawyers who just decide to work at a firm and practice in the big city, mom decided to travel, taking up cases across the United States. She specialized in helping the various tribes that were once a dominant part of the country. She's damned good at what she does, earning millions in reparations for almost every tribe that she's worked with. From what I could tell, she got a pretty good kickback as well, but she always tried to say that she was doing it for justice or some shit. It's not like I cared. All it meant for me was bouncing between reservations, schools, and never sticking around for long enough to feel like I had a real home.

Our current stop had put us in the mountains of northeastern Georgia. Apparently the Cherokee were engaged in some land war with the government, and she had been leading negotiations for a while. The kids hadn't taken too kindly to a newcomer, which wasn't all that surprising. Reservations were pretty close knit communities, and I'd seen this hostility on several of them before. Back when I was a kid, I had gotten my ass beat on a number of occasions, but by now I could handle myself quite well. In that respect, things were a lot easier. I had packed on a decent amount of muscle over the years, especially in recent months. I couldn't help but think that these people had something special in the water because I hadn't changed my daily routine and the results had improved dramatically. Nobody else seemed to be this ripped though, so I just accepted that my hard work was finally paying off.

I'd noticed that my anger had been peaking a lot more too. Don't get me wrong, growing up as an outcast I have developed a pretty quick temper and it didn't take too long before I was ready to fight. No friends, no consistency, parental issues, and personal demons that I don't really want to get into all had taken their toll over time. Rather than cry about it, I developed a cold shell for the world, never getting attached and lashing out at anyone who decided to try and cross me. That being said, I'd never possessed this much rage before. At times, I almost felt like I was having to hold back to keep from ripping everyone's head off. Maybe I do have anger issues, but it's not like I've hurt anyone too badly, and I didn't get into it with anyone that didn't deserve it. The fact that I'd made it all the way to summer without a fight here was impressive.

I laughed at the thought of all the people I had dealt with over the years. Mom always got angry when she found out, but after all this time, I just accepted it as part of life. I didn't seek confrontation out, but I was never going to back away from it. I just happened to be a "magnet for trouble" as I had so elegantly described it to mom on countless occasions. In the end, she'd give me some punishment and go back to whatever her current case was.

After resting on my bed for a few, I decided to mess around with my guitar for a bit to try and calm myself. It was the only way I'd discovered to relieve anger without having to punch anything. Unfortunately, angry playing led to a lot of snapped strings, but I always kept a spare set ready. Not like it was an expensive instrument anyway. Despite having money, I never really asked to be treated to nice things, with one exception: my car. Mom had asked me what car I would want without taking money into consideration. Some people would jump on the brand new models, but I had a passion for the classics. The restored 1968 Mustang Fastback sitting under a car cover in our gravel driveway was proof of that. Someone had modernized the sound system, but otherwise, the thing was as close to stock as you could get. I still think that it was bought out of guilt for all of the instability in our lives, but I wasn't going to argue about why I had my dream car. Other than that beautiful deviation, I liked to keep things simple.

My ears perked up as I heard her mom's approaching on the gravel outside of our house. She wasn't supposed to be in yet, so I could only imagine that she had somehow already found out about my little altercation. She slammed the door to the house before I heard her stomps coming up the stairs. "Here we go again," I muttered to myself, placing the guitar back in the corner.

She slung open the door, an angry look upon her face. Which was it going to be this time? Could be the "I'm disappointed" talk or the "you're lucky that they're not calling the police" line or any of the other speeches that she had in her repertoire. I looked at her, awaiting the reaction to my most recent exchange.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" She started. "I give you everything you need, and this is how you repay me? I swear, sometimes I feel like you've made it your mission to make my life hell! Here I am, helping these people, and you can't help yourself but to go and antagonize them. I was supposed to be able to celebrate finally settling the case today, but you just had to ruin it! Why can't you just be a normal kid for once?" She angrily shouted, staring at me the whole time.

I don't know if it was this different approach or if my new rage set me off, but that was all I could take. "You act like I seek out this shit! If it wasn't for you, maybe I'd have a chance at normalcy, but no, you have to go on your goodwill missions across the country and drag me with you. How am I supposed to ever be normal when I can't make friends or settle in somewhere! Not that I'd want to associate with most of the people that we meet in these godforsaken places. I'm always an outsider, and I only fight to protect myself. Those little punks deserved it!" I snarled, the anger rising under my skin.

"I will not talk to you like this!" She screamed. "I'll be back when you're ready to show some respect" she finished, slamming my door.

I felt my body convulsing as the rage consumed me. I was done trying to pin it back and let it completely take over as I lashed out, punching a whole in my wall. The next thing I knew, everything was changing. My bones were stretching and I could feel an itch as thick grey hair began spreading everywhere. I looked down to see paws replacing my hands and feet as my clothes shredded around me. "What the hell is going on?" I tried to ask, but all that came out was a loud snarl.

The animal inside of me wanted to escape the confines of my bedroom, but we were trapped. I couldn't fit through my door and the window was even smaller. I was beginning to panic when I saw the door knob beginning to turn, the sounds inside probably catching mom's attention. I swung my head back and forth, looking for a possible way out. The only thing that accomplished was to send a sharp pain through my skull as I knocked my dresser over. Mom opened the door and gasped at the sight before her. "Shit…" she muttered, but instead of running like any sane person would, she began to approach my growling form.

It took everything I had to quell the fear and anger coursing through my veins. I ultimately just submitted to the tidal wave of emotions and lay on the floor, whimpering. I always knew that I was angry, but I never thought that I was a fucking monster. I looked up suddenly as I felt a hand on my neck. "Shh, baby. You need to calm down." She softly whispered, rubbing my fur. "Hold on, while I get someone to help explain this" she said, pulling out her phone.

Who was she calling? The psychiatric ward? Animal control? I listened, trying to figure out what she had planned for me. It made no sense that she was the calm one in this situation.

"Hi, Billy? It's Nancy Lahote. I need to ask you, has a new pack formed back home?" My ears perked up, but I couldn't figure out what the voice on the other line was saying. Pack? Where there others? Had she known this could happen? All of these thoughts crossed my mind as I continued listening to her conversation.

"Well, I had a feeling that the gene had to have activated. I'm sitting here with my son…who is currently a wolf" She added. "Can you get in contact with whoever the Alpha is so that we can figure out if Paul has any connection to the pack there? … Thanks, Billy" she finished, hanging up the phone and sighing heavily. So, apparently I wasn't hallucinating and I was a…wolf? As important as that was, why wasn't mom freaked out by it? I still had no clue what was happening.

"I really hoped that if I got you far enough away, this would never happen" she said, shaking her head. A few moments later, I felt like we weren't alone.

"Who are you?" A voice asked. I looked around, but didn't see anyone else in the room. Mom could see the new rush of confusion in my eyes. "Guess that answers my question. Hearing voices?" she asked. I simply nodded, stunned that she seemed to be way more understanding than I was right now. "I guess that the pack tie is by tribe, no matter the distance…" she pondered. "The voice is someone that you're linked to, and if Billy did as I asked, that would be your Alpha. Go ahead and try talking with him." she finished, as if this were as ordinary as a phone call between friends.

"How am I supposed to communicate with a voice in my head?" I thought. "Just like that" the voice answered.

"Wait…you can hear my thoughts?" I asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Yeah, it's a wolf thing. I take it you have absolutely no idea what's going on do you?" He questioned.

"If you can read my thoughts, don't you already know that?" I quipped, already getting irritated at the voice.

"Well, well, somebody's chipper. I guess I'll explain…" and with that, the voice started talking about legends, werewolves, vampires, imprinting (which seemed like a blessing and a curse), and all sorts of other things that were the core of so many fairy tales. If I wasn't sitting in my room as a wolf, I'd have asked what he was smoking.

He went on for a while before I finally asked how the hell to change back, praying that I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life as an animal. His talk about being in a pack and other parts of the legends were beginning to bore me. I had no real ties to him or his people, so why I was expected to help fight against 'cold ones' was beyond me. If nothing else, I was in Georgia and he had said something about Washington state. The sooner I broke ties with him, the better. "You simply have to calm down and imagine yourself in your human form" the voice responded. "Also, call me Sam. Being referred to as 'the voice' is getting old." He chuckled. "Smart ass…" I grunted, trying to will myself to be calm. After a solid 5 minutes, I finally felt the change taking place.

I crouched on the floor, panting from the energy it took to transform my body. Mom ran over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. "I guess there are some things that I need to explain..." she said softly. "...After you get some rest. You look exhausted." She finished, picking up a pair of shorts and throwing them at me. I collapsed back on the bed, trying to piece together what had happened in the last few hours. I began to feel just how tired I was and decided to allow the sleep to wash over me. I'd search for answers tomorrow…

Well, there it is, Chapter 1. What do you think? Worth continuing? Reviews are appreciated.

Also, Linkin Park's "Iridescent" is really driving my thoughts on this story. I was tempted to add lyrics, but FFNet has some policies that I didn't really want to think about, so no lyrics, but if there's ever a song that comes to mind throughout the story, I'll note it in the post-chapter notes.