#Chapter 2 The Mating Pull

Aurora

Nightmares of the woman’s screams haunt my sleep. I can’t help but toss and turn in bed, having to put everything back in its place from where the royal warriors tore through my stuff. They ransacked the house, too, yelling for my mother to confess on my whereabouts, and she wears the fresh bruises on her neck to show how rough they had been.

It’s been long known that royals are superior. I’ve even heard rumors that they steal young females from the commoner hospital wards, forcing them to be slaves until they are useful for the salacious and sinful royals to abuse them in other ways.

There aren’t many of us left in my pack, but my alpha has managed to convince the royal warriors that there aren’t any unmated females in his pack and if there were, he would gladly hand them over.

I wonder if Alpha Gunther had taken a beating for lying to the royal pack warriors, knowing that they had found my room and somehow found another female later on, taking her right there in the middle of town from what my father told me. They assaulted her body and didn’t care who saw it. Sometimes, I think it kicks their sexual pleasure up more, knowing they can have any female, at any time, without being objected.

My father had been with the Alpha of our pack when they came into our borderlines, skipping over the pleasantries with Alpha Gunther and going straight for kicking down doors and sniffing out young, unmated females.

I’ve always feared that I will find my mate, and I’ll still be taken away, but my parents have always told me the royals don’t like commoners that are mated. That’s why my mom has been safe all these years. They tell me about how they want them young, unable to understand what is happening to them as they are used and abused. They want them naïve and uncombative.

I finally feel brave enough to get out of bed and get dressed, pulling my long hair behind me and tying it up off my neck. There’s a plastic bag taped to my window, hiding a small crack that was created when a piece of my furniture was hauled into the wall nearby, cracking it slightly and letting the humidity off the mountains slide down into the valley before slithering in through my bedroom window.

Aurora, my best friend Ann reaches out, her voice frail.

My heart leaps at hearing her alive. It’s all I can hope for after a raid of royal warriors. Ann, oh moon goddess, I can’t believe you’re okay! You are okay, right?

Yeah, she hums into my head. Paul and Row were with me when the royals came through, she adds, mentioning our other closest friends, both of them unmated and thankfully just as brave to help Ann as Luke had helped me last night. They were able to mask my scent. We hid in the cellar until they left the pack. What about you, are you okay?

I’m fine, I hum, wishing that were true but honestly, I’m still petrified of what happened yesterday. Where are the guys? Have you heard from them since yesterday?

There’s a moment in the link where I feel our connection faulter, like static, hearing her hesitate and mull over her words. Aurora, I need to tell you something, she sighs, something so sobering and chilling about her tone. Meet me outside. I’m already in front of your house.

My brow furrows and I walk to my window first, peering through the plastic cover to see three silhouettes’ downstairs, meandering outside near my front porch. I slip on some shoes and race down the steps, passing my parents in the kitchen.

My father coos to my mother, trying to soother her still, after I faintly could here her crying all night over the encounter with the royals. I give them both a small wave, hating the sight of my parents so distraught, but it’s something I’ve had to grow accustomed too, just like every other time I’ve managed to slip away from the royals.

I meet my friend’s downstairs, all but Luke, and their expressions are all stoic and similar.

Paul is the oldest of them all, standing taller and skinnier than the rest, his eyes a deep brown color while his hair matches almost perfectly, combed back and wet like it’s fresh from a shower. He offers a light grin, his pale cheeks splattered with a variety of freckles.

Ann is the next in age, almost twenty herself, her and Paul the ones that shifted first in our friend group. They like to tussle, which is a sight to see, Ann only five-foot three, shorter than me by a few inches, but built with enough spunk to fuel a royal wolf. She has curly red hair, fluffy when she tries to brush it out, and when I look to her, she doesn’t smile like Paul.

Neither does Row, the youngest of us all but still somehow the strongest. He holds his arms in front of his broad chest, his bold shoulders perked up at the sight of me, his algae eyes looking away from my gaze as his dark chocolate hair wavers in the wind.

Something still and calm travels through us all as I face my friends and they face me.

“What’s going on, Ann?” I ask, referring to her worried tone in the link just moments ago. “Is everything okay?”

She pauses, exchanging looks with the others before returning her light eyes to my own. “Aurora, have you spoke to Luke this morning?”

My heart flickers at the mention of his name. It’s his twentieth birthday, the most important of his life, and he could very well find his mate today and if I have an ounce of luck, it will be me.

“No,” I reply, looking to the house next door, wondering if we are going over there to meet with him on his birthday and then maybe finding out that he and I are fated to one another as mates.

“Aurora,” Paul says, his voice rough and deep in tenor. “We ran into Luke this morning. He had a wild look in his eyes, and he wreaked of hormones,” he grumbles, unable to meet my gaze now.

“He said he could smell his mate,” Row chimes in.

My heart flutters, wondering why he hasn’t come by my house.

That’s when it hits me.

“His mate is Mary, from the quiltmaker’s family in town,” Ann mumbles.

I flinch, feeling like she had screamed the news into my head directly. I hold my arms to my sides, trying to stich myself together but the pieces beg to be set loose and scatter. My knees knock, wondering if they are mistaken, maybe they didn’t see it right, and this is all a big miscommunication before they finally admit that Luke is my mate, and they were wrong.

They have to be wrong!

I threaten to fall over, Row forcing himself before me, his thick arms wrapped around my back and keeping me pinned to his body. He holds me still, even as I shiver, and I finally release the tears into his shirt that have been threatening to fall since Ann said the sinful words, she had spoken to me. Maybe she is still wrong—maybe it’s a mistake.

Just then, I look over Row’s shoulder, catching the sight like it’s meant to be perfectly set up in my view, and I see the busy paths of our town, our pack, trying to reconcile and move on from the horrid events of yesterday. Two wolves, however, seem unphased by the sting of fear we all felt and instead they sport gleeful, cheery grins.

Luke leans down, his lips crashing into Mary’s, the sight of him kissing another female utterly ripping my soul out of my chest and stomping it into the dirt until it no longer beats.

“Breathe,” Paul reminds me, my choking cries starting to echo into my own mind. He moves behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder and if it weren’t for Row’s embrace, I would threaten to fall to the ground right here and never stand again.

“It’s going to be okay,” Ann hums, her light voice equal parts assurance and grief. “It’s been a rough two days, guys. I think we need to find something to cheer us all up.”

“Killing a royal or two would be a good start,” Paul grumbles behind me.

Row keeps his arms strung around my shoulders, making sure I stay upright during my incapacitating sobs. “I agree but maybe we should try something more realistic, and less deadly.”

“How about we grab some drinks from the casino?” Ann says while shrugging.

I bury my face into Row’s shoulder, still wound-up from the sight of Luke kissing another female. I should have never even imagined the reality of him finding his mate and it not being me. I should have been that girl, taking his lips against mine and letting him hold me like he has in the past; holding me like he’d never release me again.

“Alcohol sounds amazing,” I blurt, my voice muffled into Row’s sleeve.

Everyone pauses, seemingly to take a count of who wants to go and who is against the idea.

“I have some muting potion I cooked up last week,” Paul exhales, breaking the silence. “We can take some of that to keep the bartenders from knowing we are underage. “It doesn’t last very long but we should be able to sneak a few shots in before anyone notices.”

“I just got paid, too,” Row mentions, breathing hot exhales into my hair.

He works most of his days at his parent’s butcher shop downtown and goes on frequent hunting trips to stock their market shop with a fresh variety of meats. He hums a noise that radiates through my ear, firmly pressed to his chest still, unsure if he will pull away and I’ll melt to the ground in a pitiful, unworthy puddle.

I want Luke. He was supposed to be mine.

If I can’t have him, I’ll numb his place in my heart until I can’t feel it throbbing anymore.