NICHOLAS (old version)

chapter one: parade

November sixteenth was an unfortunate day for my pack. 

For my friends, for my family. For any female over the age of eighteen who had the unfortunate curse of being born within our packs lands. 

Any female unmated and of age with any sense did her best to remain undesirable and inconspicuous, she kept her head low and her mouth shut. If you didn't attract attention, perhaps what might be your future mate wouldn't see you. Wouldn't notice you. You might survive another year.

Alpha Nicholas' pack had the highest male werewolf population in not only the continent, but the world. He also had the highest unmated male population, including himself and his Beta. So he went to-and-fro, conquering and bringing fear to just about every pack that was convenient and worth his time, to allow his males to find their mates. 

"Darcy." My mothers voice pulled me out of my trance of depression and anxiety, and I struggled to focus on the plate of toaster waffles in front of me. I wasn't sure how long I'd been in my head, my own world really, but they were cold once again. I eyed the microwave across the kitchen and decided I wasn't hungry enough for the effort it would take to heat them up. I hadn't slept in two days and I was running low on energy.

The odds were, my mate would be in Alpha Nicholas' pack. My gut told me this with absolute assurance, and while I knew it was paranoia, every female felt that way, statistics agreed with my gut. Three quarters of unmated males were in Nicholas' custody. I had only a quarter of a chance of my mate being elsewhere.

"Sweetheart, you've got to relax." My mother cooed, reaching across the wooden table and patting my arm. "They'll look at you more if they smell the anxiety. These men are warriors, they feed off of fear." She told me, and after a minute, stood up and picked up my plate. She walked to the microwave and stuck the plate in, fingers dancing across the keys and it hummed as the waffles spun round-and-round, heating up with the help of some friendly radiation.

My sister's flip flops smacked against the tiles as she sauntered into the kitchen, and I glanced at her, the corners of my lips tugging into a smile. Candy was twenty, and she'd played this game more than a few times. Honestly, she was the master of it. 

For a week, she didn't shower and she smelled foul and sour. She wore dirty stained clothes, her face greasy and lacking in makeup. The general thought was that the more unappealing you seemed, the less likely they'd be to look at you. Who would want anything to do with some slob, mate or not? I wasn't sure it really worked, but I played along well enough, leaving my hair frizzy and face face devoid of makeup, with casual clothing. 

"Please tell me you're not going to be eating down here!" Tyler moaned, pulling his shirt up over his mouth and nose, seemingly preferring the stench of his own nineteen-year-old-boy body over Candy.

Even my mothers nose scrunched up as the microwave went off and she carried the plate back to me. "Candace, you really do smell foul." She observed, but there was a degree of approval to her words. Candy and I didn't want to be taken, but I think mom's desire for us to not be taken was stronger. She'd lost her own sister to Nicholas' pack; I didn't remember much about Aunt Mila, I'd been eight when they'd taken her, but mom had loved her more than life itself. She didn't want to lost her only daughters as well.

"It's an art." Candace said with a shrug of her shoulder, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she took a seat, reaching out to grab a muffin but stopped. 

I glanced at her and saw her pupils dilate, her face go pale. Because she was the firstborn, and our father was dead, Candace was technically the head of the family. She represented us in pack meetings in place of our father, and she made some of the important decisions. With being the head comes a perk though, heightened senses. 

She could tell when they were coming.

After a moment, she snapped out of it and cleared her throat, her gaze fluttering to her hands as she wrung them in her lap. "Uh, Darcy," she said, her voice shaking, "it's time to go."

My heart thumped in my chest like a war drum, and my legs felt heavy. This was the first year I'd be participating. The first year until the rest of my life, right up until I either found my mate, or he found me. I knew it was unlikely that I'd find him here, this time; I'd turned eighteen only a month ago, my bodies pull for a mate was irregular, it wasn't strong. I could see him today and not even know it. Really, the only way would be if he's older than me - his pull would make up for my lack of one.

"Darcy, come on, we'll get in trouble if we're late." She said quietly, though her tone was stressful. This was Candy's third year; her pull was stronger than ever. She needed her mate, mentally and biologically. She had more to fear than I did.

I stood up and took her outstretched hand, following her out of the house and onto the porch. We stood there, faces pointed toward the road, eyes on the ground. If we didn't make eye contact, we'd be okay. If we didn't look at them, everything would be fine. Though it was explicitly against the rules to not do so, most everyone did it. It was almost instinctual.

Minutes passed as they moved down the road, a mass of males. I heard them laughing and chuckling, shoving one another playfully. This was the best day of the year for many of them, regardless of how we felt. They'd find their mates.

A cheer rung out and my head snapped up, surprised. I spotted a man pulling out of the crowd, running up the porch of our neighbor. I recognized Kelsey immediately, a girl I'd gone to school with my entire life. She'd turned eighteen a week ago. He ran up to her and picked her up, twirling her around, clearly overjoyed, though her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was a tall girl, but this guy was massive and muscular, though he couldn't be older than we were.

Suddenly, I felt far less confident in my age protecting me.

I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, my mother and Tyler stood in the doorway, hugging onto one another. My mother seemed to gather the same conclusion and tears filled her eyes, while Tyler hugged her to him. I tried to breathe easily, I tried to stay calm. I took my glasses off, cleaning them on my tee shirt, the one I'd worn to bed, and placed the frames on my face. I blinked a few times, making sure they were clean, and that was when I saw him.

Everyone knew about Nicholas. I'd been watching him from the doorway for as long as I could remember, since he was younger than I was now. He walked not to find a mate, but to keep track of how many of his men had them. He'd been made an Alpha at the age of eleven, younger than anyone before, and he'd been a damn fine Alpha. Perhaps he wasn't loved, but he was powerful. He got shit done, and sometimes, that was what you needed in an Alpha. He had the strongest army, the largest pack, the most pups. His females didn't need to walk, because his male population was so high that they almost always found their mates in their own pack.

Everyone knew who Nicholas was on sight. Even if you didn't know his face, you could tell him apart from the crowd. Power radiated out of every pore, danger. Nobody challenged Nicholas, despite the things he'd done in his life. The people he's killed, the lives he's ruined. Because he could kill with his gaze.

I couldn't not stare at him, and once my eyes hit his face, I was in a trance. He was terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time. He seemed to feel my eyes, and stopped walking, turning to stare at me.

Our eyes locked, and in that moment, I knew I was fucked.