12 years ago, Blaine met a werecub in the forest.

Blaine was a rambunctious werecub himself, and he and his friends liked to sneak away and run into the forest, play fighting and laughing in barks. Even though his mom was Alpha and one day Blaine would be Alpha, he made sure all his friends felt comfortable around him. Or as his dad would say, it was because he was the future Alpha that he made sure his pack felt safe and happy with him. The Westerville pack had always made sure cubs knew that Alphas weren't supposed to just dominate and punish their packs. They were supposed to protect them, help them, and love them. And Blaine wanted to be the best Alpha ever, or at least almost as good as his mom.

But one day around sunset, he got separated from his friends. He wasn't really scared, because he knew where he was and how to get back, and he had made sure to bring a mixed group - Santana and Wes were good betas who could look out for Sam, Thad, and Brittany, who were omegas.

That was when he met the werecub.

He was small, so small Blaine worried he was just a toddler in human years. Blaine was 10 himself, and he knew Alphas ran large, but still. This small, white cub looked like he would only be two or three in human years, but Blaine could just tell that wasn't the case. He had to be closer to Blaine's age. Neither of them were past puberty yet, so they couldn't communicate like older wolves did, but Blaine instantly connected with the small wolf. He could tell he was scared and wary the moment he saw Blaine.

The cub froze when he sensed Blaine and tensed when he looked at him. Blaine carefully lowered his head to put the werecub at ease, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he wagged his tail to show he was friendly, that all he wanted was to play. Blaine's heart panged in his chest when the pretty little wolf seemed to relax a little and lower his head. He was a lovely omega, Blaine could tell. He padded up to him slowly, his ears perked up and tail swaying back and forth. The white wolf kept his head lowered carefully, submissive and safe, but Blaine didn't want or need such a show of deference. He nudged the little omega's chin with his nose, playfully knocking his head up a little. The wolf seemed surprised, but all it took was a few more gentle touches and playful barks, and his new friend let out a little yip in response and they got to Blaine's favorite part: playing.

He made sure to be gentle and careful. He always was with his friends; it was what a good Alpha should do. But he was extra careful now; the white omega was small, and though Blaine could tell he was brave, he was also fragile. He had to be the runt of his pack, and though all it meant in the Westerville pack was that everyone fussed over Thad until he yelled at them to go away, Blaine knew not all packs were so kind to the small and vulnerable. As future Alpha, it was important for him to know how things worked. And his new friend was feisty, but too skinny and he had a cut paw before they started to play.

When Blaine noticed it, he wanted to pull the omega down and clean his wound for him, but the little wolf seemed to think of something, and then he was running away. Blaine whined, but he didn't chase him. He didn't want to scare him or get him in trouble.

Blaine returned to that spot again and again, but he never saw the white wolf after that first time.

At least, not for twelve years.