Mating Night

Clara

“I’m so looking forward to the ball!”

“Yah! I wish to find a nice guy. A foreigner will be good. I’m bored staying in the Moonstone.”

Girls chattered as they flocked into the pack house.

My heart pounded within my chest as I took a deep breath, lifting my skirt to join the crowd.

All around me were the members of the Moonstone pack preening, picking fights, growling, and scratching themselves to distract them from their nerves. Every single one of them were dressed in their most flashy, elegant apparel.

Women wore gorgeous gowns that showed off their legs and their naked backs; men wore tight tunics that accentuated their muscles. Some even bared their entire upper torso. Nothing was left to the imagination. All of our physical prowess and beauty was not something to blush over; it was to be flaunted now.

Tonight, on the eve of Diantha’s glory, the full moon, even I, the cursed daughter of traitors would be granted supposed mercy from the Alpha for the first time in eighteen years to enter the pack house and attend the ball.

The mating ball.

Once a year this ball holds in a different pack’s territory. It’s the event that most of the unmated werewolves on the South Continent would join and hopefully find their mates. All of them are bristling with excitement, except me.

I don’t want a mate. My thoughts came fast and heavy like padded footfalls on the forest floor.

We don’t need a mate.

These last thoughts were from hers. I could see a hulking wolf pacing within the periphery of my vision. Her body seemed half physical and half smoke. She was snarling, her bright fangs glinting in the pale blue fire of the hall. Only I could see her.

Elena. My spirit wolf.

“There you are.” A cold voice came from a doorway that existed only to the Elites. All of us lesser werewolves were waiting in this tightly-packed darkened corridor that led into the main ballroom. I could see several other pack members gawk at who had arrived.

It was Sisley Dover.

Her bloodred hair was tied up immaculately with several jeweled birds pinning her curls. Her slinky shimmering dress was of the new fashion, and I could see every soft curve of her body. A huge pearl necklace circled her creamy throat and dripped down to draw attention to her breasts.

She had a fan in her fingers, and she lifted my chin with its papery end. She eyed me. “Look at you! Seems like if you actually try, you can be pretty.” A sneer was on her pink lips; her cosmetics slaves must have been prepping her for the whole day.

“Feeling a little threatened, are we?” I grinned. “It must be difficult to not have all the males’ drooling over you all the time.”  

Sisley raised her brow and glanced at me up and down.

I wore a pale blue ballgown that clung to my own body like petals folding around a flower. My own dark brown hair was pinned above my head in traditional braids that the women wore for the mating ball.

“Threatened? By you?” She could barely hold in her laughter. Her fan slapped against my cheek hard. I stared at her calmly and gave her no satisfaction at me whimpering in pain. Her dulcet tones were sweet, but her words were like toxic sludge spewing from her lips.

“I only wanted to compliment you, for goddess’s sake. Don’t be so dense. But I’m curious, this dress almost looks too good on you. Mm, it really doesn’t suit you. Where did you get it? I hope for your sake you didn’t steal it from an Elite. That’s the only way you could afford this. Trash like you have to pay by throwing away all of your dignity.”

I wondered at how destructive it would be to tear Sisley’s throat open. It would be worth it just to see the look of shock on her perfect face.

Do it! Kill her! You damned ass. Elena growled in my head. Elena always did this. She laughed and cursed at my weakness and wished me to kill all the Elites in this Pack.

But I wouldn’t follow her.

There’s no need for any troubles tonight. I didn’t want any attentions tonight. Like always, I would be invisible.

I was much realistic than Elena. Killing an Elite would be committing the equivalent of suicide. I didn’t want it. I had another goal.

I would escape.

We would escape. This plan had been brewing in our mind for a long time.

I took a deep breath and smiled back at Sisley, ignoring Elena’s words. “Hazel gave the dress to me,” I said, impassive as a stone.

Elena wasn’t happy about my attitude. She cursed at me. Coward!! You didn’t even dare to shoot back.

She was right. I was a coward. But what else could I do? To kill an elite and release us from this abusive nightmare?

Nonsense.

Elena might a powerful wolf. We might have a taste of the sweetness of victory. But the moment of glory would never last. We would be taken down in seconds. My head would be severed from my body, and my body thrown out for the carrion crows to pick at.

Just like my parents.

Sisley narrowed her eyes. “Oh yes. Your goddess of a healer friend.” She eyed me. “Of course. That’s why that dress doesn’t suit you one bit. See, a pretty werewolf like Hazel… Well, let’s just say that it’s no competition who actually looks better in that dress. While you do look somewhat improved, you’re practically like a potato in a sack compared to her.”

I shrugged.

I knew any reaction from me would give her power. She enjoyed abusing me, verbally or physically. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Sisley.”

A quiet voice stopped her from prattling on. My heart sunk down to my heeled feet. I wanted to run away. All the young werewolves bowed next to me and stamped their chests in a salute.

We do not address the Alpha’s son with our words. Only through actions.

Sisley smiled and leaned heavily in the arms of the young prince of our pack, Griffin. He was tall and fair, with bright green eyes. His arms wrapped slowly around Sisley, and the most infuriating pleased look flashed across her face.

But he had no eyes for Sisley even as he embraced her. Only for me. Old memories floated in my mind like haze on a hot summer’s day.

The young prince had once been mine. We grew up together. We shared our first kiss. We made a vow to each other that we would love till death do us apart.

They were all lies. Sweet poisoning lies.

Sisley lazily traced her finger on the Prince of the Moonstone Pack’s arms. She smiled at me, though his face was tight and unexpressive. “What do you think, Griffin? Does my ‘step-sister’ look lovely to you?”