On Your Mark

Chapter 1

My bare feet pad along the wooden floor of our three story family home. The soft glow of the morning sun shines through the stained glass windows, warming my toes. The soft melodic hum of laughter and life calls to me from the kitchen below. A smile adorns my face as I slide down the twisted railing of the main staircase, flying by many colorful windows, my amber hair sails behind me. I crash into the oldest of my brothers at the bottom of the stairs.

"Al," he grunts. He catches me and sets me down gently.

Frederick towers above me, smelling of syrup. His straight, light brown hair falls into his face. One of his defining features that separates him from the rest of the Graves clan with our varying degrees of curly hair. Frederick was my brother by design, always protecting me and looking out for me, keeping my secrets and putting up with my antics. He is my best friend above all else, the matter of his vastly different genealogy was never an issue and never would be.

"Sorry, Freddy." I shove at his chest playfully, "hey! Have you seen my sweater anywhere?"

"Sweater? Al, it's the middle of summer!"

I shrug, "I don't care! It's my lucky sweater, I need it."

"Plan on getting lucky, Al," my youngest older brother, Daniel, teases from behind me.

"No, no." I shake my head, scoffing and shoving past him to turn the corner into the small kitchen. "I just can't seem to find it and it's making me nervous."

My father sits at the head of the table, his dark curly hair sprouting out wildly from behind a newspaper. My mother catches a ray of sun in her wavy red hair as she places a plate down in front of him, plucking the paper from his hands and sitting beside him.

"What's making you nervous," she questions, opening the paper to the sports section.

"I can't find grandma's sweater." I pop a miniature pancake in between my lips, chomping on it happily.

My father studies me curiously through his round glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose and crossing his arms over his own worn-out, handmade sweater, judging me.

"It's July," he says plainly.

"Ugh, Dad." I drop my eyes to his chest quickly, raising my eyebrows looking back up at him.

He looks down, blushing instantly and unfolding his arms. He pushes the curls off his forehead, exposing a scar that matches the many that cover Frederick's body. He scoffs, "oh, would you look at that?"

My mother pats his arm, soothing his embarrassment with a sigh, "it's in the wash. Besides, you're not wearing a sweater tonight anyway."

"And why not?"

She drops the newspaper on the table, her brown eyes staring up at me, "I've laid something out for you upstairs."

My groaning muffles the snickering of my brothers beside me. I manage to elbow Daniel in the ribs to shut him up, but Frederick sits down before I can injure him too.

"Alexandria, I don't want to hear it," she scolds, "Isaac is returning home and the entire pack will be in our backyard this evening for the kickoff picnic. You are to look nice and presentable, not like one of the seven dwarves."

Danny plucks the beanie off my head and hands it to her, sitting by her side with a grin, still rubbing at his sore ribs. His dancing green eyes match those of my father, the two being nearly identical if it weren't for the light scattering of freckles that Danny inherited from our mother. I frantically smooth out the wild staticky mess on top of my head, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Allie Arla," my father scolds, setting his coffee down to shake his head. I sit at the opposite end of the table, rolling my eyes.

"For your information," I say, stuffing another pancake in mouth, "I like looking like a dwarf."

"Oh my Goddess!" A bright and happy girl with blonde, almost white, hair squeals. She plants a kiss on Frederick's lips, sitting gracefully between us. "Who is this girl and who knew she had such beautiful red hair under that hideous hat?"

"Good morning, Vee." Freddy smiles, staring at his mate with heart eyes. His happiness to see her, competes with my disdain for her insult.

"Don't you start." I point at her and she giggles.

"Veronica, I may need your help with this one this afternoon." My mother nods in my direction, smiling at the gorgeous girl beside me.

"We should start earlier than that." Veronica sips on a coffee mug that Frederick had prepared for her. "I fear it may take awhile to get her where we want her."

"You're right." My mother clicks her tongue, "there is much to do."

"We'll have to start with a bath and then her hair." Vee nods, starting a list of everything they wish to change about my appearance. "Do you think we could get Auntie Ava over to help?"

"No." My mother laughs, "Raven has been giving her a hard time. She'll have her hands full with that one. I'm sure we can manage on our own."

"I am sitting right here," I announce to both of them, but neither one acknowledges that I have said a word.

My family continues to ignore me, carrying on with their breakfast, my protests meaning nothing to any of them. Frederick is the only person to notice that I slip away from the table and out the backyard.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I sigh, turning to face him, "please don't make me go back in there."

"Come on, Al." He reaches out to take my hand, but I swat it away. He chuckles, "it won't be that bad. I promise."

"I don't understand what they're getting so worked up over, anyway." I shrug, "it's only Isaac."

He shakes his head with a smile, "it's more than that, kiddo. Yes, the celebration is for Isaac, Goddess knows he doesn't need the ego boost, but all eyes are going to be on you. You're almost eighteen, Al. You'll have your first shift and be able to find your mate."

I fake a gag and he laughs again.

"Mom just wants you to look nice.' He shrugs, "and Veronica is very excited to help you get ready."

I scrunch my nose in disgust, whining, "but I don't want to."

He takes a step towards me, in an attempt to grab my hand and drag me inside, but I take a quick step back. He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and smirking. I hadn't meant to challenge him, but he accepted. I squeal as he lunges for me. I jump to the side, dodging him, but he is older and quicker than me. He snatches me up by the waist, tosses me over his shoulder, jostling me as I kick and hammer at his back. He carries me back into the house against my will.