Chapter 1

Chapter 1

                 I sit in front of my mirror, my reflection staring back at me. My straight chestnut-coloured hair is piled on top of my head into a perfect bun, and the off-the-shoulder blush coloured top and high-waisted black lace skirt adorn my body, hopefully portraying me as a confident young she-wolf ready to take on her role in this pack.

Last month, I had just turned sixteen, the age a wolf finds their role in their pack and—possibly—their mate. It is the time when all wolves are deemed “adults” in our community, when a she-wolf can choose to give up school and start a family with her mate if she so desires. In the eyes of the werewolf nation, any wolf aged sixteen who has shifted to their wolf form is able to take on responsibility in furthering the success of their pack, with their Alphas designating their roles at the pack meeting on the first day of each month. Since I had missed out on last month’s meeting due to my birthday being three days after the last pack meeting, I was unable to obtain my pack position. But today, I will be taking my place as a functioning adult in Pine Paw.

I couldn’t help but smile at my reflection in excitement at the prospect of working and gaining respect from all; this thrill lifted my mood. My eyes shot over to the picture of my cousin, Chris, and I taped to the mirror. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my cousin will be there to support me no matter what role I received from the Alpha. Just after my birthday, when I first shifted into wolf form, Chris and I had gone for a run in the forest surrounding our territory. His idea was to get me accustomed to being on four legs instead of two. I remember Chris' black wolf form towering over my blue-white fur with black-tipped paws in the warm early-spring sunlight that the month of May had to offer that day, and the annoyance I felt knowing that I still have a few more years to continue growing into my wolf form while he could easily take me down. I look like a pup compared to my cousin, but being able to run around the territory and enjoy the early morning sun in wolf form felt incredible. There's no better feeling for a werewolf than your four paws pounding on the forest floor with the smell of the new leaves on the trees, the crisp pine, and the scattered scents of prey all around you. As a werewolf in wolf form, you feel complete in the forest. On that day, with Chris chasing me around like we were a pair of pups, I finally felt that sense of being whole.

“Laina, let’s go before we’re late,” Chris yells impatiently, snapping me out of my thoughts. Chris’s voice carries from the foyer where I know he waits, with a look of annoyance directed at me all the way up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror and adjusting my shirt, I sigh, stand from my seat to look around for some shoes, and slip on a pair of knee-high black boots. I grab my cell phone from the desk beside the door while rushing out the room and scurry down the hallway. “I'm coming!” I reply back to my cousin, hurrying down the stairs to where he waits for me.

One thing that is annoying about Chris is his need to always be on time.  Chris is what I like to call “time O.C.D.” when it comes to being punctual. He would forget where he put his phone down and forget where his keys to his car were, but he will never fail to be early to a function or event. One example of Chris' habit of being early would be just a couple of years ago when we went to the movie theatre to see the live-action remake of “Beauty and the Beast.” You can just imagine Jack and I waiting for an hour on Chris to find his wallet and car keys. He was running around the house like a chicken with its head chopped off only for the three of us to be miraculously two hours early to the movie because Chris had planned ahead that day for a late-night viewing. Needless to say, by the time the movie started to play, the bag of popcorn in my hands was a soggy, inedible mess for my pre-teen self to enjoy. I spent the entire movie with buttery hands and a bag of gross popcorn that I had since discarded on the floor.

“You look amazing,” Chris gushes as I descend the final steps of the staircase and come to stand before him, doing a slight spin for my cousin to approve of my outfit. He has a look of pride in his amber eyes. I did everything with my cousin Chris, who acted as a brother, a parent, and a best friend. His approval meant the world to me, especially with today being the next step in my adult life as a functioning member of this pack. His mate, Jack, saunters over, giving me a once-over and a wink before snuggling into Chris’s side with a contented smile on his face. “Thank you. You two look amazing as well,” I reply with a blush as I take in the two complimenting each other with black slacks and button-down shirts of similar shades of blue.

Jack and Chris are the first openly gay mates in the pack that had come out about ten years ago. This pairing had started a bit of a rift amongst the pack when the two had found each other while on a run in the forest. I remember the excitement Chris had when he came home that night. He whisked my sleeping form out of my princess bed at ten o'clock at night to make me a plateful of chocolate chip pancakes just to talk about coming across a grey wolf during his run through the forest. He couldn't tell who this wolf was, only that he knew just by scent that the two of them were meant to be mates. At six years old, I remember sitting at the kitchen island, trying to stay awake with the knowledge of my cousin finding his prince charming and the scent of chocolate in the air. My parents were furious with my cousin, stating that a pup needed to sleep when they caught me red-handed with half a plate full of pancakes and a chattery Chris... But there was also a look of pride and excitement for him before they promptly ushered me into bed, while Chris promised to tell me more tomorrow after a pack meeting. The next day at the pack meeting, Chris and Jack bumped into each other and, as if it were a scene out of a movie, Chris and Jack both exclaimed the word, "Mate!" Apparently, there was a huge uproar afterwards, with the pack in disbelief that two strong male wolves who could produce strong pups were mated to each other. For the next few days, I remembered the pack being tense and Chris explaining that he had to sneak out at night to see his mate because our pack was trying to keep Chris and Jack apart. I was heartbroken for my cousin, the man who told me stories about mates and how they are our other halves that we cannot live without. I remembered in kindergarten when this boy in class said his mother called Chris a freak and how I got in trouble for punching that kid in the face. It wasn’t until the previous Alpha had stepped in and stopped any and all complaints before any other incidents occurred that could harm the pack. He admitted to everyone that same-sex mates are legal in the werewolf community and gave the chance for others to flourish in their love life. It was the Moon Goddess’ blessing and intent to pair mates of the same-sex together, so who were they, the pack, to judge? With the Alpha giving Chris and Jack his blessing, more and more wolves who had admitted they had yet to find their mates soon came out as pairs. It soon became normal to see openly gay and lesbian couples around the pack, and I couldn’t help but beam with pride at how accepting my pack is to change. Chris and Jack’s relationship is quite sweet in a Romeo-and-Juliet kind of way in the beginning, with most of their families and pack members being against their mating. But the two persevered and kept strong. The only difference from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet is that no one died in our pack for my cousin to be happy with his mate.

“Now, let’s hurry up before we are late. That is not a way to start off as a working member of this pack.” Jack states a little too cheerily and grabs both Chris’s and my wrist, dragging us out the door and into the car. The pack house is about a half an hour drive from where we live, used for meetings, special occasions and for warriors and wolves without mates to live with. If it weren’t for Chris and Jack being my family and guardians, I would have been living at the pack house long ago since my parents’ deaths. Slowly, the big mansion comes into view and the drive comes to an end, with the car coming to a stop in the parking lot and the three of us getting out in front of the old Victorian building. The nerves that have been missing this entire morning decide to make themselves present now while I climb out of the car, taking in the number of pack members hanging around.

“Remember, you are to mingle with the other wolves while the Alpha assigns you to your position. Who knows, maybe you are his soul mate,” Chris encourages me, kissing my forehead before he and Jack walk away to join the other parents and guardians. I sigh sadly as I watch wolves my age talk to their parents one last time, wishing for once that my own had survived the rogue attack ten years ago so they could stand here and give me the advice to calm the nerves that send my heart into an unsteady rhythm. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath, sighing wistfully one last time before turning towards the building and heading inside with a brave smile on my face. Mom always told me to never show my true emotions when in a crowd of wolves. The strong prey on the weak, and I refuse to show any weakness. 

As I enter the building, I am taken aback by the sheer amount of wolves my age, each ready to take on their responsibilities in this pack. Everyone is dressed in their best attire, hoping to leave a good impression as we all aim for the highest position possible. Many of the females have put a lot of consideration into their attire, switching their short shorts in the summer here for conservative dresses, blouses and slacks. Only the few females who aim to climb the pack hierarchy are dressed in revealing clothing. But we all have one position we do not want to obtain: the Breeder.

                Breeders are the she-wolves assigned to become the pup producers in the pack. Their job is to allow the mateless warriors of Pine Paw to breed them, with no say in who their partner is, during the current breeding period. Its intended purpose is to add more wolves to the pack population and bring about stronger wolves for the next generation. Many wolves believe it to be an honourable position a she-wolf can obtain, but we all know the truth. Once you become a Breeder, you are nothing more than a slave, a tool for men to use your body for their own pleasure while they rape you into producing the next lot of pups for the pack. If you ask me, it is a barbaric way to increase the pack’s population, but the chosen she-wolves have no say in their position of a Breeder and no say in ending this barbaric job. To say that the slim chance of being chosen for this position scares me is an understatement. I am terrified for any she-wolf, myself included, that will receive this position, knowing that for the next chapter of their life, the she-wolf will be a slave until she produces the specified amount of twenty pups for the pack.

While everyone else mingles about the pack house, chatting about what positions they wish to receive and the lucky ones exclaiming when finding their soulmate, I stick to myself and make my way to a corner of the room where I can be left alone. Most people my age tend to enjoy mingling and talking to one another, but I always felt like an outcast. No one wanted to be friends with the she-wolf that lost her parents and was raised by two male mates. The scent of perfume and cologne is strong with everyone together in such a closed-off space but makes it easier to discern who belongs to which faction. The wolves, standing by the punch bowl most likely spiked with some form of alcohol, who smell like a grade eight locker room where boys use Axe as a shower-in-a-can, are the ones built for power. Each male wolf built with muscle-on-muscle will become a Warrior. Now, they fangirl about some sports game that was on last night and who won.

The group of small wolves that do their best to blend into the background with little to no scent on them will be Omegas, who will do the regular work around the pack, from cooking and cleaning to taking care of the daycare and little kids. These Omegas are what we refer to as the working class since some of them will also help run the companies owned by the pack by doing a nine-to-five job like regular humans. Then there is a group of wolves that fit between the Omegas and Warriors: I call them the Acolytes. They’re standing by the bookshelves and seem to be in a heated debate about some type of medical theory. These Acolytes will fill in positions such as Pack Doctors, nurses, architects, builders and any task that requires in-depth and specialized research and planning. We can't rely on humans to help build our community and risk exposing the werewolf race, so these wolves take the place of any jobs that require any university or college degree. If it weren’t for my Alpha and Beta bloodline, I would be considered an Acolyte and part of that debate. Taking a seat on an armchair once I reach my destination to the corner with a window I can stare out of, I spot the Alpha talking to a few girls who try their best at looking coy and sexy before him. I always wondered how pushing your body against a male would benefit a she-wolf other than being used and taken advantage of, but I made no comment of their behaviour. I preferred working hard for the things I wanted and being independent. The idea of needing a strong male to take care of and protect me like a precious doll seemed a little old-fashioned to me. It’s not that I don’t want whoever my mate is, but I crave being independent more. Christ jokes around saying that it’s the Alpha blood in me wanting to be respected and not under someone else’s control.

Two warriors are standing a respectful distance away from Alpha Sam but close enough to act on his command. These warriors are the ones that will step into action once Alpha Sam designates a she-wolf as the next pack Breeder. They are the wolves everyone fears since they have a higher status than the regular warriors. Not only do they protect the Alpha, but they are also given special privileges as wolves who forsake the mate bond, intending to stay mateless for the rest of their lives just to have their pick of the Breeder populace. At any moment, they can storm into a Breeder’s home and fuck her as he pleases. Every mother warns her daughter to never go near the ten warriors dedicated to this position since some abuse their powers to take a she-wolf that catches his eye. There are many stories of she-wolves being raped to please these men when a Breeder is unavailable, and there is nothing the young girl can do other than accept her fate.

I keep an eye on Alpha, knowing that at any moment, he will make his rounds around the room and decide the fate of the newly-shifted. Disgust and annoyance are evident on Alpha's face as a she-wolf gets too close to him, pushing her assets into his face in hopes of seducing Alpha Sam. I blame her behaviour on the many reminders her parents must have given the poor blonde she-wolf before sending her inside the pack house. Most families hope to have their pup mated to the Alpha since this will bring honour and prestige to them. Unfortunately for her, Alpha Sam has never shown any interest in the pack whores let alone a newly-shifted she-wolf like her. Her greed will not get her the position she wants. My turn to speak to him will come soon. I know the two positions I wanted: Acolyte, as I have bypassed high school and am currently enrolled in college, and Warrior, as Chris and Jack have been training me to fight since I was seven years old, and intensified my training once I shifted, to include not only hand-to-hand combat in human form that has been drilled into me for years, but also combat in wolf form.

I turn my attention to the window, deciding to ignore everyone in the room and watch as small pups chase each other around in the yard, their laughter and squeals of delight floating in on the wind through the open window. They look so carefree, and I smile at their game of tag. The scent of summer wildflowers, the dew still clinging to the pack house gardens from this morning, and the fresh aroma of pine surrounding our pack house whisks away the nauseating stench of sweat, perfume and cologne permeating from the wolves in today’s meeting in the next hour. I know Chris and Jack want me to mingle with everyone, but I see no point. Many wolves do their best to stay away from me.

Movement from inside the room catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn just in time to watch as Alpha excuses himself from the she-wolves, much to their protest and dismay, and makes his way in my direction, specifically to where I sit in my corner. I smile at our young Alpha Sam, who, at twenty-two, has yet to find his mate to rule beside him as his Luna of this pack. He is the most eligible bachelor who every she-wolf dreams to be mated to and is also why wolves my age steer clear of me. 

                “Laina, how ni-” He stops mid-greeting, standing before me and sniffing the air, and moves closer to where I sit while he focuses his attention solely on me. Excitement bubbles inside me with the possibility this brings. His scent wafts over me, and a feeling of calmness runs through every nerve ending in my body. Could I possibly be his mate?

Sam and I grew up together since my father was once his father’s Beta. He used to babysit me during meetings where both of our parents would be busy with pack work. Even if Sam is eight years older than me, as children, he would spend his free time with me, spoiling and treating me to anything my little heart desired. I remember one time he bought me a lacy dark red dress for my twelfth birthday. It was a little revealing for my taste at the time, but I still loved the attention Sam showered me with that day as we took a trip into the city. When each year passed without Sam finding his mate, it gave me some form of hope that maybe I could be his and he mine. Quietly, I wait for his following statement that will decide my fate and role.

                “Breeder.” His voice is filled with desire as his hands shift to grope my large breasts, a smirk playing at his lips. I gasp in surprise, fear spreading through me with this one word. This isn’t possible, right?

                The two Warriors’ stoic faces soon morph into a smirk as their eyes scan me from head to toe. The dark-toned wolf with dreadlocks winks at me as his eyes hold a trace of lust barely visible in his chocolate-coloured gaze. Deep down, I know he will want to take a go at me first. His partner reaches out to grab my left arm as the dreadlock guy takes my right, the grip tight enough to remind me that escape is futile as they will hunt me down. Whispers and sympathetic gazes are sent my way as the two Warriors lead me out of the building. Some she-wolves exclaim in the joy of not being chosen, while others wish me good luck even though I feel far from lucky. I can see some holding their phones, ready to capture a sobbing breakdown that follows each year when a new Breeder is chosen, but I refuse to give these wolves the satisfaction of a good show and instead keep my head held high. I keep my gaze forward and take each step towards the door with as much dignity as I can muster. Never show weakness when forced into an unfavourable situation is what my father used to tell me as a child.

Everyone knows what will happen after you are assigned as a Breeder. You will be whisked away from your family and forced to stay in a cottage guarded day and night, only able to garden in the medium-sized yard given to you. But the truth is, you are nothing but a slave to the warriors assigned to breed you. You will welcome an unknown male into your home, lead him to the bed you sleep in each night, and spread your legs whether you want to or not. You will spend the next six months carefully observed like a rat in a lab while you carry the pup inside you to a healthy delivery, and you will repeat the process a few months later, never given a say as to who will breed you. You are nothing to the pack even after gaining your freedom when the twentieth pup is born. And this is the life I will be living now.

The doors to the pack house close. The pack meeting will proceed as usual now that a new Breeder is chosen. This is when reality begins to sink in. I feel numb, my mind still wrapping around my new role as the men lead me to a black car. The doors are open, waiting to shut me inside and whisk me away from the life I know, but no one forces me into the vehicle. In moments, Chris and Jack will be informed of my position and rush over from whatever it is they are doing, with the prodding eyes of their friends questioning what is wrong, finding me where each Breeder waits for their final words with loved ones. Only a few minutes will be allotted to us, and then I’ll be taken away where no one will be able to see me for the next twenty years or so.

                Knowing Chris and his obsession with time, they will be here in three...

                Two...

                One.

                Cue a sobbing Chris.

                “Laina, are you okay?” Chris’s voice fills my ears the moment his arms hold me in a tight hug. I watch as the guards walk away to give us privacy, far enough to not hear a thing but close enough to chase after me if I decide to run. Since this is my last free moment as a regular pack member, the guards are not allowed to listen in, much like giving a prisoner on death row their final meal before taking them to the chair that will end their life. A few minutes of silence fall between us. Chris is sobbing into my shoulder as Jack sends me a grimace of a smile. We all know the situation is dire.

“I...I don’t know what to do.” I whisper, feeling Jack wipe away stray tears that had fallen from my eyes.

“What you do is behave, wait for a free moment, and run. Run towards the old treehouse, look for something pink, grab it, and keep running.” I do not understand what Chris has said, my fuzzy mind unable to comprehend his words before I am ripped away from my best friend and pushed into the car, the door slamming in my face and the engine roaring to life.

                I watch in the rearview mirror as my life fades into the distance away from me, the tears now flowing freely.

                All I can think of: Is this how Katniss felt when she was whisked away from her family in District Twelve in The Hunger Games?