The Ice Princess

01 - Wereless

***Beatrice's POV***

Mother says being different is a good thing. She always quotes 'uniqueness makes you special'. But I don't want to be different. I want to lift a car with my bare hands, run a mile under a second, recognize anyone by their scent before they even come into view, and morph into a soft fur creature with upright ears, sharp teeth, pointed muzzles, and inquiring eyes. Just like everyone else in this community, but instead, on my eighteen birthday, I became a giant egg-like ice cube. As if it wasn't already embarrassing enough to freeze anything and anyone when I can't control my emotions. My Father, Matthew Stevens, was the werewolves Alpha King, and my mother, Naomi Steven's, his Queen Luna. You would think a child born to two strong pure-blooded werewolves would at least have some were-genes in them, right? In my case, science doesn't add up. I am what you call an outlier, a misfit. 

-"Hey pumpkin, what are you doing out here so far from the party? Carl is looking for you. It seems Jessie needs help with—." He pauses, taking in my gloomy aura. Taking a seat on the fountain's basing with me, he seeks to understand what's on my mind. "Care to fill me in on why the soul of every party is surrounded by plants?" He gestures to our surroundings, reinforcing his inquisition. We currently sit on a three-tiered fountain in the center of a glass greenhouse, full of exotic plants in all shapes and sizes—a haven at the back of the Crescent Moon Alpha's Mansion Gardens. 

Uncle Leo is a precise mirror image of my father—perfect groomed jet black hair, bold and expressive brows, three-day stubble boxed beard, caring blue x-ray eyes capable of reading the deepest secrets of your soul. It was challenging to distinguish them growing up, but it has gotten easier now that I am older. Uncle Leo had a rough patch in his life. Everyone avoids talking about what happened to him before I was born, and when they speak, the details are always vaguely told with the same downhearted expression. I might not know who uncle Leo was before I existed, but I sure know who he is now—my best friend. Bad, good, trouble or no trouble, he is always one step behind me, ready to catch me if I fall.

-"I needed a breather, the party suffocating politics were giving me a headache." I excuse myself with a small white lie. The truth was I couldn't bear to see Liam interact with the other females, especially after putting a hold on what we had.  

-"A yes, this year's ball is very exuberant." He giggles as his distant gaze recalls something funny he most has seen among the guests. 

Carl, my half-brother and current Alpha king hosts an annual evening ball where every supernatural creature's leader is invited. A tradition he implemented for cultural diversity and to celebrate old and new alliances. He was tired of the century-long anti-social werewolf ways. In a united supernatural community, problems get solved a lot quicker.  A lesson Carl learned from the Clash of Elements War, where multiple supernatural beings came together to fight the evil threatening their world. Carl was only five years old back then, and now he is twenty-seven, but such an event leaves deep wounds, especially when so many noble souls were lost. 

Since I am my brother's Social Relations Mediator, I get the magnificent honor of organizing the event. Please note my sarcasm.  It's a lot of work to ensure nothing clashes with a particular culture. For example, Djins hate steel and salt. All salt shakers are forbidden near their buffet table and must be watched by a staff member at all times in case someone has the wrong idea to offend the Djins. Dragoons, dragon shapeshifters, don't even get me started on those. What I am about to tell you might sound weird but is an absolute must. Any virgin must have a chaperon at all times. This goes for both females and males. Why do you wonder? Well, Dragoons tend to lose their heads about them. Such innocent souls must not stray around the house on their own and get caught under the dragoon's sharp claws because there is no stopping them without causing an enraged flamethrower.  And of course, we have to guarantee no silver, wolfsbane, vervain makes to the house in any way, shape, or form as most guests are vampires and werewolves. God forbid one of them gets injured. Decades of the treaty would come crumbling down in the blink of an eye.