The Last of White Dawn

Chapter 1: On My Own

The busy day was winding down into a quiet evening filled with soft colours and gentle laughter. My father, mother, brother, and I seated ourselves around the dining room table enjoying the last of our coffees over stories from the day. My brother, Tyran, had encouraging news regarding the training of the new warriors. My father, ever the eager listener, spared my brother a nod of his head; but his eyes were locked onto my mother as she picked up the empty cups from the table and headed toward the dishwasher and the small stack of dinner dishes still waiting their turn to be placed inside.

"Lexi," my mother's soft voice called out without interrupting my brother. She motioned me toward the kitchen island. Assuming that she needed help loading the dishwasher, I followed her past the small kitchen island and opened the washer without thought. She loaded the washer without handing me a single plate. As I leaned against the counter, my eyebrows raised and settled on her own soft brown eyes, waiting patiently for her begin whatever discussion she felt warranted a separation from the men. When she had finished dropping the small cube of soap in to the tray she turned back toward me. "Tomorrow, I need you to come with me to the dressmaker. We need to start putting together your birthday ensemble."

I sighed and returned my mother's sweet smile, admiring the gentle wrinkles growing at the corners of her mouth as though she had aged with that smile on her face. Birthday planning had been her main concern for months now; and, although it was only a few short weeks away I felt the need to remind her. "We still have time."

"You and I both know that time is running out. You're only ten days from the full moon that will mark your entrance to adulthood and your wolf's maturation."

"Is it really only ten days?" I asked with genuine surprise.

Werewolves have always been associated with the full moon, but the white wolf is especially so. There were so few white wolves left in the world that the maturation of another one was something to be celebrated with special significance. In some places around the world, it was an event that would last weeks on end with parties, balls, and special feasts with high-ranking wolves. My family were the only remaining white wolves in North America, at least to our knowledge, and my birthday celebration would be the last maturation until my brother or I produced an heir to our peculiar bloodline. Regardless of the lacking connection with royalty or other white wolves that would understand the significance of my birthday, and my absolute insistence that this not be an even that carried on for two weeks, my father had promised my party would be an event to be worthy of a Queen.

"Has dad made the final decision about the guest list?" I asked hopefully. My father was usually unwilling to interact with packs outside of our own. White wolves were a source of power and magic, often feared and hated among the regular werewolves. Our bloodline had come from the mating of Lycan and witches, which allowed us special abilities and attributes that had become more and more rare among our kind. Many of the white wolves had been killed or their bloodline bread out through interaction with the human world in the last two hundred years. It was told in our history that we had once been hunted and attacked both by human and supernatural to try and understand our unnaturally long life, our strength, and for the use of our peculiar and beautiful pelts. I had asked my father to rescind the secrecy for one night in hopes of finding my soulmate. I had asked what others would consider the unaskable, I wanted the surrounding packs and their leaders to attend.

My mother chewed on her lower lip. "You know how your father is."

"That's not an answer."

"He hasn't given me one yet; I wouldn't get your hopes up too high." My face must have clearly read the disappointment I was feeling because my mother reached out and placed her soft palm against my cheek. "Your mate will come in time."