Arius had brought me a bag of clothes before the sun could even rise. He was persistent in his knocking as I pretended to sleep, apparently he didn't get the message. I trudged through the room, to the door, grabbing the bag and throwing it behind me; uncaring of where it landed.
"Breakfast in thirty," for such a serious man, he was too chipper in the morning.
I bathed quickly, not washing my hair and leaving it for the next day. I slipped on a pair of leggings, while keeping my mates shirt on from the night before.
I hope these she wolves noticed whose shirt I am wearing
I needed to knock my competition down a peg, and wearing my mates shirt around should help lower their confidence. This was only the first step into my plan, call it mental warfare.
This was the only time I was glad my father had pushed me to train. All trackers had to train their senses to focus on one at a time, thus enhancing said sense and using it to their advantage. We had to learn how to be light on our feet, aware of our surroundings, and make others unaware of our presence.
Our job was to find a target and gather intel, or lead the pack fighter to the target. We were not trained specifically for battle, but were taught to defend ourselves if something went wrong. We were tough if we had to be, but our job was essentially being a spy and reporting back to the pack.
However, because of my incident on my first mission, my father came to an agreement with our Alpha. I should be trained by the beta, like the pack fighters, because I needed it more.
Because I was a woman.
I hated the reasoning behind it, but at that time I had no reason to argue. I was scared and knowing how to protect myself helped me overcome my fear.
I left my hair down as I exited my room; I had inherited my straight hair from my mother.
I followed my mates scent down the stairs, already hearing multiple voices chattering about. I was nervous to attend breakfast, but I had to show them that I had no fear. Otherwise, I could say goodbye to my title.
The moment I stepped into the dinning room, everything stopped.
I kept my head high and walked into the direction of the chair by the head of the table; the chair meant for the Luna.
The chair scraped across the floor as I pulled it to sit down. All eyes stayed on me as I put the cloth napkin across my lap, readying my self for my meal.
I was glad to hear my mate clear his throat, calling the attention of the pack, "I have found my mate."
Simple, and clear.
"You all know of our packs tradition, the Luna trials will be held a week from now,"
My eyes bulged slightly at the announcement. How in the hell was I meant to train?
The rest of the pack took a silent intake of breath as he continued on, "a Luna needs to be of strong blood. Tradition says all participants get one week to ready themselves. Anyone looking to participate must speak to Beta Arius". He then looked to me, "you have to take the first bite"
I hadn't noticed the untouched food at the table until now, too caught up in the stares. A hand places a plate of pancakes in front of me, the small woman bowing as she moves back.
I lift my fork steadily, cutting the first piece before another hand snatches the fork from my grip. My mate moved the fork towards my mouth, motioning me to open. I couldn't help but stare into the electrifying eyes as my mouth clamps down on the pancake.
YOU ARE READING
The Cruel Alpha
Người sóiAlpha Eros was a man to be feared across the country. Everyone knew who he was, the Cruel One, a man so terrifying no one dared to speak his name. Pandora was the prize possession to the Rockwell Pack. The best tracker in the pack, born from a stron...