Lily
Three and a half years ago

I woke up in the best mood. It was my sixteenth birthday, which for a werewolf is the day we turn for the first time. It also happened to be a full moon, which meant my first shift would be heightened. I would be at my strongest, and all my senses would be on overdrive. It was going to be the best day of my life, and I was beyond ready for it.

I jumped out of bed, and the floor creaked beneath my feet. My room was very girly, which wasn't exactly my style, but my mom loved it. I think she was pretty disappointed I wasn't a prissy beauty queen. I tried my hardest to be who she wanted me to be, but it never stuck. I guess you can't really “fake it till you make it.” My room definitely wasn't horrible, though. It was pretty large, and I had my own walk-in closet. I had white furniture, light wood floors with a pink rug in the center, pink curtains, a pink bedspread, a pink…well, you get the point.

I ran into my closet and dressed in jean shorts and a black band T-shirt. It was my go-to outfit in the summer. I looked myself over; my long smooth legs looked killer in these shorts, but my face wasn't as pretty. My mascara, which I forgot to wash off yesterday, was smudged, and I had a knot that looked like a rat's nest on top of my head. I brushed my long blond hair, cleaned my face, added some new makeup, and headed downstairs.

My house was your typical suburban home, but bigger. My dad was the alpha's personal guard when the alpha was a child, so my father was compensated well. (The alpha is pretty much the leader of our pack. He makes the decisions for everyone. He's usually the strongest member.) I jogged down the steps, past the front door, and into the kitchen.

It was a gorgeous kitchen. It had stainless steel appliances, white tile floors which always felt cold on my bare feet, and a glass table on the right side. My mom loved to host, although she hadn't mentioned anything about a party for my birthday. She had been incessantly cleaning the house, though, and I had a feeling she was going to surprise me with one.

She was scrubbing the walls with a sponge as I walked in.

“Morning!” I greeted her.

She nearly jumped out of her messy apron. She turned around and said, “Goddess! You scared me. I didn't hear you coming!” Then she turned to the other doorway, which led to the back of the house. “Ken! Lily's up!” I heard my father's footsteps coming from his office. Werewolves have great hearing, but it's our smell that's the best. We can smell for miles—well, at least after we turn we can.

My father walked in and gave me a kiss on top of my head. “Mornin', sweetheart. Happy birthday.” His voice reminded me of the sheriff in an old Western. Deep and a bit of a country accent. But it made you feel safe. He went to stand by my mother and said, “Breakfast smells great. I'm starving!”

I looked my parents over. Both of them had black hair. My father was tall at six foot two, while my mother stood at around five foot six. They both were pretty physically fit for their age, but to be fair, werewolves are known for being in shape—our metabolism is faster than humans'. My parents looked nothing like me, but that was because they weren't my biological parents. A guard found me in the woods nearby with no trace of anyone else, so they decided to adopt me. They couldn't have pups of their own, which has been happening more and more nowadays. They say it's because fewer and fewer wolves are finding their true mates. (In the werewolf community, a true mate is the one wolf that the moon goddess has chosen to be your other half. Your soul mate, so to speak.) My parents weren't true mates, but they definitely loved each other. They said they were so excited when the guard brought me in. They thought it was a sign. An orphan girl and two mated wolves that couldn't have children. They had been good to me all these years, but I had always felt like something was missing. I felt like they kind of did too. They were never very affectionate. They were very careful with their words around me. Sometimes I felt like a stranger in my own home.

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