Okay, so this story is different, but not exactly original.

More like a retelling.

Think TVD meets Bitten meets the Covenant meets me lol

But I really really like how it's turning out, and I hope you all do to!

Please read, review, and let me know what you think!

I have a few chapters already written, so I'll post by the interest it gets.

Thanks guys! :)

XOXO

Disclaimer: I do not own TVD, Bitten, the Covenant, or any other cool works.

But I do own myself. Which is kinda cool.

Elena's POV

I stared at my phone.

The missed call notification was blinking on the screen like a symbol to my execution.

Eighteen months.

For eighteen whole months, I hadn't had to deal with Mystic Falls.

With my past.

And acknowledging the fact that it had come ringing for a reason was probably a rational idea.

But seeing as I was not thinking rationally in this moment, it didn't cross my mind that maybe the caller had a reason for contacting me.

That maybe something had happened, and I should call back.

But my brain wasn't telling me this right now.

It was too busy screaming "Run!"

But that was the problem.

I had already ran.

I had spent the past year in New York, with the understanding that I would be given freedom, not to be disturbed by any of the pack.

The Pack.

I tried not to think of them too often, with few exceptions.

There was no point.

I'd left Mystic Falls with no plans to return.

Alaric had allowed it.

Had even promised to keep the others off my back while I rediscovered myself.

I feel as though I've used my time away wisely.

In the near year and a half I'd spent in the city, I had found friends, good friends, who knew nothing about me, or my previous life in the woods of Virginia.

At least, nothing outside of my cover story.

I thought of my best friend in the city, Caroline Forbes.

She was sunshine in skin, happy, eccentric, and had immediately taken pity on me when I first joined the magazine she worked for.

I had the talent and the qualifications for the column I'd taken on, but my people skills were rusty, and I hadn't gone shopping for myself in years.

Caroline had taken me under her metaphorical wing and had introduced me to feminism, and mascara.

I'd adapted quite well.

I'd even began seeing a friend that she introduced me too, Matt Donovan, who worked for the NYPD.

He was a perfect gentleman, that treated me with love and kindness, and I had returned the favor.

We'd moved in together about four months ago.

Caroline had been thrilled, of course.

But as I sat on the sofa, in the living room of the apartment I shared with Matt, all I felt was nerves.

And maybe a little gratitude that he was working late tonight.

It would be much harder to keep up my "I'm a normal, happy, human girlfriend" act with the way my heart was pounding now.

He was sure to question my tapping foot, the biting of my nails, and the way I was still staring at my cell, as if expecting it to turn into a snake and bite me.

Yes, Matt would certainly notice that.

Because this isn't me.

This isn't the "me" that I am here, in New York.

No, here I am Elena Gilbert.

A sweet, ambitious, 'twenty-three" year old with the perfect job, and the perfect boyfriend, and the life that it seemed everyone wanted.

No secrets.

No skeletons in the closet.

No past to hide.

I'd been that me for so long, I had almost began to believe it.

But it was a lie.

And the truth...well, the truth wasn't exactly something you could tell the average person. At least not without being committed into the nearest institution for reasons of mental insanity.

The truth was in my past.

The "me" I am in Mystic Falls.

Elena Gilbert, twenty-nine years old, despite my younger looks, and the only female werewolf ever recorded in our histories.

Yes...a werewolf.

A monster straight out of a Hollywood movie.

Except, I am real.

There are two ways that a person could become a werewolf.

You're either born, or bitten.

Born wolves have it easier.

They go through their First Change around the age of seventeen.

They know what to expect, having been told by their fathers.

And their fathers before them.

The werewolf gene was passed down through the male line, father to son, no females.

Leaving the second initiation, the way I had joined the world of the supernatural.

Through a bite.

Females had been bitten before, but none had survived the transformation.

I had barely gotten through it myself.

No one really knows why it is, that the females do not live.

The Pack likes to speculate, but no conclusive understanding had been made on the matter.

It was just accepted.

I, of course, was the rare commodity; the exception to the rule.

I had been lucky...or maybe not.

After the first change, I had wished for death, had begged the pack's Alpha for it, as he was overseeing my transition.

But Alaric had not killed me.

He had gotten me through the most painful night of my existence, and the messy months to follow as I adjusted to the wolf that now resided within me.

It hadn't been fun for either of us.

But I owed Alaric.

Which is the only reason I finally stopped tapping my foot, and picked up my phone.

The voicemail was short and sweet, Alaric's fatherly tone filling my ear.

"Elena, it's Ric...I know I told you I wouldn't bother you, but it's important. You know that I wouldn't call if it wasn't. I need you to come home. I've called a Meeting for Friday evening. The whole Pack. Please, be there."

That was all I got.

Not even a hint of the situation that had changed our agreement.

But clearly, whatever it was, it was big.

The whole Pack...that was something.

I took a deep breath, sat on the edge of the sofa, and dialed back.

The phone rang a total of four times before being picked up by the machine.

My own voice echoed from the receiver.

"Salvatore Boarding house. No one could get to the phone, so if this is official business, call a cell or leave a message. Thanks!"

I hung up before the beep, vaguely recalling the day I recorded the message for Alaric.

Because I'd gotten tired of the phone just ringing and ringing when no one bothered to pick it up.

Now, it mocked me.

What would I even say in a message?

Pushing myself up, I knew where I needed to go.

And it would only take me an hour or two to get there, depending on the traffic.

There was an office on the other side of the city that a werewolf, by the name of Lorenzo, occasionally occupied.

He was technically a member of the Pack, but moved around enough to be a Mutt.

For his job, of course.

The one assigned to him by Alaric.

Enzo took care of our loose ends in the human world.

If a rogue wolf, more commonly referred to as a Mutt, caused too much trouble and had to be dealt with, Enzo worked the clean up.

He would remove all traces of their existence, deal with any questions, smooth out the bumps of a cover story.

He was good at it, too, which is why Alaric had entrusted him with the duty.

Each pack member had a job to do.

This was Enzo's.

And it required traveling all over, so he'd set up a few offices to make his transitions easier.

He was the only Pack member I'd spoken to since leaving, because he had the courtesy to let me know when he was in the city.

I'd met up with him a few times, at his office for lunch, and occasionally, he'd stay overnight to go through the Change with me.

I preferred spending time with him that way, instead of over a meal as we made pointless small talk, avoiding the proverbial elephant that was the past.

And it was nice, to have someone there, during the change.

Contrary to popular belief, we don't pop a tail with the full moon.

We could transform at will, our bodies becoming that of the wolf, the animal completely taking over.

The moon had nothing to do with it.

But the Change was an unfortunate necessity.

If we go too long without turning, we risk losing control, and our bodies would force the Change upon us.

And if it were ever to happen around humans, we would be in serious trouble.

Humans weren't allowed to know about us.

Any that had the misfortune of discovering our existence was...dealt with.

That was the term Alaric liked to use.

Translation, the Pack executed them.

Harsh, yes, but a necessary reality.

Even having one human know the truth was too dangerous.

Our survival as a species required anonymity.

Which had been part of my job, in the Pack.

Shaking off the memories, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to Enzo's office building.

At the very least, he would have Alaric's personal contact information, which, I embarrassingly admit, had been deleted from my phone soon after I left.

Maybe once I had his cell number, I could reach him and figure out what the hell was going on.

It turned out that my trip was unnecessary.

Halfway up to Enzo's office, my phone rang in the pocket of my jeans.

I checked the ID.

Sure enough, the Boarding house's number showed.

I hadn't left a message before, but I'd forgotten that they had caller ID as well.

As the Pack enforced werewolf law, we had to know who was calling us up.

Not that there were a lot of laws.

Just one, really.

No killing humans, unless of course, they discovered our secret.

Keeping the secret was more common sense than a law, but one that we enforced anyway.

There were always Mutts to challenge the rules.

Werewolves that killed for the fun of it, made a splash in the humans news.

But the Pack knew the signs, and we fixed the issues.

Wasn't that all very neat and tidy?

I had to pull myself out of my head to answer the phone that was still ringing.

I hit the green, and placed it to my ear.

"Alaric?"

A deep breath answered me.

A pause. Silence.

I was about to say something else, when a familiar voice washed out.

"So it really was you."

I swallowed, fighting the instinct to end the call immediately.

I was the one taking a breath now, trying to calm the sudden jump in my heart rate.

"Damon."

His name came out as cold as I had meant it to.

Unfortunately, my apathy did little to discourage him.

A relieved exhale came from his end of the phone, "It is so good to hear your voice, kitten."

I flinched at the longing in his words.

I couldn't do this.

Not now.

I hung up.

A few settling breaths later, my phone rang again.

This time, it was Alaric on the other end.

"Elena?"

"Hey, Ric," I greeted.

"I wasn't sure you'd answer."

He was lucky I did.

"You mean since you now have Damon playing secretary? I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to call twice."

Alaric sighed, "This isn't about that. I didn't think you'd take any calls from us, at all."

"You said it was important," I reminded him.

I could almost feel him nod, "It is."

I fidgeted slightly, "What's going on, Ric?"

Another pause, "You need to come back to Mystic Falls."

"Alar-" I began protesting, but he cut me off, "This isn't a debate, Elena. I need a Meeting with the entire Pack. I let you leave, I've not interfered with your life, but now, your Pack needs you."

"The Pack is fine without me," I assured him.

One werewolf would make no difference to a pack our size, no matter the situation.

"Besides, I have my reasons for staying away."

His voice was as steady as ever, "You mean Damon."

"Damon would be reason enough for me to never come back," I pointed out, "But you know that even I'm not that petty."

A sigh, "Well, then try to overlook those reasons for a few days. If not for the Pack, then for me. I need you with me on this."

"I...I'll consider it," I promised, then hung up.

I didn't want to go back.

I knew I really didn't have to.

But I had yet to really push Alaric.

And if I wasn't with the Pack, then I could be labeled a Mutt.

And as a Mutt, I would no longer be able to reside in one place.

Damon would come for me, for breaking another unofficial Pack law.

Settling for Mutts wasn't allowed, but I wasn't a Mutt.

Yet.

If Alaric wished to brand me as such, he could.

So maybe it wasn't a good idea to give him another reason too.

Besides, I did owe him.

And it was only for a few days.

I exited the building, and found a cab.

As it took me back to my apartment, I made a few calls.

One to the airport, booking my flight.

One to my job, coming up with yet another cover story.

Family emergency.

A cousin, a car crash.

I bought myself a few days.

I called Matt and told him the same story.

Yes, it's very tragic.

Yes, my cousin has children that will need looking after.

No, I don't know exactly when I'll be back.

The lies were almost too easily given.

Then finally, I called Alaric back.

Once again, there was no answer on their end.

I listened to my own recorded voicemail, waited for the beep, and left my message.

Five simple words.

"It's me...I'm coming home."

First chapter! :)

Can't wait to see what you guys think! :)