"Werewolves?"

The man looked at me in disbelief. No doubt he found my words a little hard to believe, but after all he saw in these last few months, he was inclined to believe it.

"Yes, but not only werewolves. we have skinwalkers and humans living with us too. My pack isn't impartial to race; anyone is welcome as long as they can prove their worth and contribute."

The man looked a little relieved when he heard me mention that humans were there. The humans I was talking about were the ones Isabella saved, but I haven't quite figured out what I was going to do with them yet.

The man looked at me pleadingly. He was thinking on his feet. His walls had been destroyed, and so was his generator, the only thing providing them with electricity. In no time at all, all the foods I could smell in this house would spoil, leaving them to starve.

Not only that, but their mansion was also destroyed, so the inside wasn't exactly safe from monsters. This was what I wanted. I wanted to take everything away from them so they would have no choice but to join me.

In truth, I was actually helping them. They wouldn't survive here long if a monster that was even slightly stronger than a zombie showed up. Just like what happened with the vampires I sent. Though surviving for so long was impressive, their lifestyle wasn't sustainable enough.

"Please! You have to let me and my family join your pack, or else we will die!"

The man paid no mind to the fact that his wife and children were watching and lowered himself to me.

"Please, you have to help us!"

He seemed like the type of man that wouldn't let his pride get in the way of smart decisions.

"I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," I explained. "I can't just let anyone into my pack. First, I have to make sure that they are trustworthy and that they can contribute towards the pack and are not there to leech."

The man looked heartbroken by my words.

"First, tell me. What exactly can you contribute to my pack?"

The man before me looked up at me with eyes burning with determination.

"I was an engineer before all this started. A very smart one! I built all sorts of things for different tech companies. I have a lot of useful knowledge I can give to you since I studied many different fields not just engineering. Just look at how I transformed my mansion to keep the zombies out!"

I smiled at him.

So I was correct. There was someone who possessed a lot of knowledge here. I plan to put him to work. Just then, Isabella entered the room. She was covered in blood from the zombies she killed. The family looked at her in shock when they saw her.

"So you found them," Isabella commented as she entered the room. "So what now? Do you plan to turn them?"

"No, I don't."

Isabella's face twitched when she heard my answer, and the family of five sank even deeper into depression.

I wasn't pulling their strings; I didn't plan to turn them. At least not yet.

There was one thing every society needed to be successful. That thing is hierarchy. In the old society before the apocalypse, your position in society would be determined by the amount of money you have. It was money that kept people in line and forced them to do their part to contribute.

My pack would be the same. It too would have a currency, except my currency will be something different. The only thing I had to trade these poor souls was my bite. The power granted to them by my werewolf venom. With it, they were faster, stronger, could heal from injuries that would kill any man.

In my pack, my werewolf venom will be the gold. You would have those in the upper echelon who had already received the miracle of my bite and bloodline, and at the bottom you would have those who were fighting tooth and nail to receive this miracle. And only when I was satisfied with what they have done for the pack will they receive my bite.

But for this to really come through, they needed to witness the miracle of my bite.

"Isabella, slit your throat."

I didn't have to repeat the order. The moment I said it, Isabella followed through and clawed out her own throat. The man's face paled when he witnessed this bizarre sight.

"What the hell…"

The man covered his family and slowly began to step away from us. His grip on the rifle in his hands tightened, but then he paused. He paused when he noticed the wound on Isabella's slit throat healing back up.

"What… How is this possible…?"

"This is one of the many perks of joining my pack. You'll be turned into a werewolf. You can heal from almost any wound and take on a hundred zombies without issue."

The man's eyes began shimmering greedily as if he had found gold.

"My wife!" he hastily said. "She is sickly. She suffers from a rare illness and is left bedridden by it. Can becoming a werewolf cure her?"

"You've seen it yourself," this time it was Isabella who spoke up. "It can cure anything."

"What do I have to do?! What do I have to do to get it? I'll do anything!"

I approached him and rested my hand on his shoulder and gazed into his eyes as I spoke.

"You must work for it. Using your knowledge, you will help me develop my pack. And when I'm satisfied with the work you've done, I'll turn you and your entire family."

"You really mean that? I've been trying to cure my wife Mariane's illness for years. I paid for the best doctors and even bought the most expensive treatments, no matter how risky it was, but still, nothing helped."

He clenched his fist tightly as he remembered all the struggles he went through to make sure his wife was here with him.

"I tried everything." He looked at me with a strong sense of determination burning in his eyes. When I looked at him, I saw a man willing to do anything to protect his family.

"I have made my decision."

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