Chapter 2

"Why do they follow him?" I whispered quietly, not clarifying further, but he knew who I meant. The Alpha of Black Mountains Pack. He was as relentless and horrible as they came, according to my fellow pack members that had been around him. His name was Gabriel, but I knew nobody called him that. He had followed in his father's footsteps as Alpha four years ago when he turned twenty-one, and he was just as big of a tyrant as his father was...although, fortunately, it had been a couple years since the Black Mountains Pack had outright killed anyone in my pack. They seem to have eased up a bit on that tactic since Gabriel became the new Alpha. There was a moment of silence before my father spoke again. "They're scared of him, but it's more than that. He's powerful. Intelligent. Ruthless. To us, he may be cruel, but to them? He's loyal to his pack and he leads them to victory, so I can only imagine he's like a visionary to them." My father said finally, and I could tell he'd thought about this before. I looked away, my eyes burning in disgust. "Well I despise him. I wish we could run them out of our territory, and soon," I muttered spitefully, a manner in which I didn't normally speak. When it came to the Black Mountains Pack, though, hatred coursed through the veins of my family and my pack. They had ruined our lives for the last fifteen years. I couldn't remember the time before they started taking over, I was too young. Some of the wolves that had been killed as punishment for 'territory infringement' had been family friends. My heart clenched as I remembered Dan, another of my father's best friends, whose neck had been snapped a few years back when he was found half a mile into the Black Mountains territory. And Ana, a rebellious young she-wolf who had shown disrespect at a Meeting and......I couldn't even think about it. I turned back to my father, who had a half-smile gracing his angular features. "I don't blame you. You've got pride running through your veins. You're a werewolf." I blushed slightly at his tone, which seemed to be leaning towards complimentary. My father wasn't exactly full of compliments nowadays. There were a few more minutes of silence as he measured the girl's heart rate, pulse, and temperature again, a light frown on his face. I examined the girl for a moment. It was rare that any adults were in the infirmary; as werewolves matured, we developed immunity against nearly every disease and sickness in existence. As children, however, we were still somewhat vulnerable, like the pale girl trembling in the bed. My father began to put a few instruments away and pulled out a couple more. "You're good to go Skylar, I have work to do, and I don't think I'll need your help after all." I looked at him a moment, then nodded, exiting the small room with the sick patient and leaving the building that housed the pack infirmary. --- "There you are, Skylar!" My mom's relieved voice emanated from the hallway as I opened the door to our house. Closing the door behind me I forced a smile as she strode over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Because she was tall, curvy, and blonde, I didn't look too much like my mom. Our eyes were the exact same shade of blue, but the similarities ended there. I was average height and skinny with almost no curves to speak of. My angular features and brown, curly (often frizzy) hair came straight from my dad. I wasn't bad looking; I knew that much at least, but I was no supermodel like my mother with her heart-shaped face and perfect hair. She was stunning. She began to make her way up to the second story of our sizeable house, beckoning gracefully for me to follow. I grimaced but did so, wondering what this was all about as she led me down the hall into my room. "So, I was out shopping in that human town today..." I proceeded to make a face behind her when she wasn't looking, "...and I just came upon this beautiful blue dress that will match your eyes perfectly!" As we entered my cozy room, she indicated the bed, and I walked over there warily. 'Just came upon,' I thought to myself with amusement. Right. As if it wasn't just as likely that she planned the trip specifically to find a dress for me. The dress was knee length and silky, with a dip in the front. Skinny straps studded with gems would help hold it up on my shoulders. It was quite a pretty dress, really, but I didn't get the chance to wear them often. I turned to my mother, raising an eyebrow. "It's beautiful, mom, but...when will I have the occasion to wear this?" I regretted my question immediately as my mom beamed a bright smile, eagerness plain in her expression. "Well, honey...you're nineteen now." I could see where this was going. "Mom..." "And there are plenty of other packs around us with men you haven't met!" "Mom....." I repeated, and I couldn't help but give her a wry expression. Other than the Black Mountains Pack, we were quite far from any other werewolves. My mother just wanted an excuse to dress me up like a doll. Not that I minded dresses, but she was relentless about it. "Okay, perhaps there aren't a lot of others around, but still...you're over eighteen and haven't met your Mate yet! Don't you want something nice when you finally meet him?" "I...." I was getting uncomfortable now, my cheeks burning. I didn't want to think about the Mate subject. "Skylar, you know werewolves usually find their Mates within a couple years after turning eighteen! I want you to look presentable when the time comes!" She finished impatiently as I sank down on my bed, putting my head in my hands. Not this again. Every month or so since I turned eighteen my mom would get on the whole 'oh you can find your Mate now' topic. While my father just stared at me with a mixture of nervousness and amusement, she would ramble on about how I would find the perfect werewolf, the one that was born to be my other half. I knew everyone had a Mate, although there was no telling why Fate matched us up. Our inner Wolves inside of us matured as we did, and as soon as they were old enough, they would recognize their Mate: the ideal specimen with which to breed. Survival of the species was the priority. It was true what my mother was saying, that most Wolves (although not all) were mature enough at eighteen to recognize their Mate. I was within the prime age range to find mine. It was actually pretty rare for Mates to find each other after their early twenties. Wolves liked to identify the compatible breeding partner and lifelong companion as soon as possible. Still, there were exceptions, where Mates found each other later in life. However, I knew it ran deeper than just animal instinct. I had seen the glowing silver sheen in werewolf eyes as two individuals that were meant to be Mates met for the first time and the magic of the mating bond coursed through their bodies. The two wolves put together by Fate were destined to fall in love, to perfectly balance each other out and, of course, create the optimum bloodline. It was a beautiful thing, and everyone dreamed of finding their other half, for your soul mate was out there somewhere. I was just...nervous. Not completely ready, despite the fact that I was pretty sure my Wolf had matured enough to recognize her Mate when the time came. A werewolf learned their most innate qualities and weaknesses when they met their Mate. A Mate could see right down into your soul, and after the two Mates Marked each other, they could telepathically sense one another's thoughts and feelings. I didn't know if I was ready for that experience. Besides, I'd had very little experience with men, so it was still difficult to believe that someone could think of me as the center of their universe. "Skylar, at least think about it!" My mom's chipper voice brought me back to the present. I sighed, looking at her glowing expression. My parents were so happy together, and I was glad, but the opposite was true too...someone that lost their Mate never truly recovered. Part of their soul was gone and they were empty shells, only able to communicate with their lost Mate during the First Moon ceremony, which nobody understood except the wolves who participated. I hoped I was never put in that position. On top of that, there were a few werewolves that never even found their Mate at all, and they were left half-completed their whole life. This was rare, but what if I was one of them? Even though a large part of me felt that I was not ready for a Mate, I couldn't imagine not having one at all.....ever. It was a depressing notion. I huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I'm thinking about it," I replied tiredly. This was how the conversation ended every time. Her radiant smile returned and I looked away, not even wanting to know (although I could probably guess) what was going through her head. "I think I should go to bed now," I muttered, nervousness erupting in the pit of my stomach as I thought about the next day. I admitted it to my Wolf; I was terrified of meeting the Black Mountains pack and seeing their Alpha and Beta for the first time. My Wolf shifted inside of me, wondering aloud how she would manage to keep her fangs retracted during the Meeting. I saw her point, as I'm sure my pent-up hatred would rush to the surface as soon as I met the dreadful pack. I'd have to ask the others how they controlled themselves while in the presence of my pack's worst enemy. I hugged my mom and kissed her cheek as she bid me goodnight and left my room, closing my door tightly behind her. I quickly hung the dress up in the closet, wondering when I would ever wear it. Then, returning to my bed, I leaned back, staring up at my boring, grey ceiling as I tried to find the courage for the next day. What would tomorrow bring?