The Werewolf Prince's Selection.

Chapter eleven.

Sorry for the wait and the short update. I'll try to make the next chapter longer. Just for you guys. 😅

Six in the morning.

. . .

That's how early they made me get up on a Saturday. Six. In the. Fudging. Morning!!!!! After my mad dash away from Loëk (I still refuse to refer to him as my mate) I found my room, stripped, and flopped into bed. I don't know what time I fell asleep, but before I knew it, I was poked awake by a maid. Apparently all of the selected have to have some kind of. . . Training everyday until the week's challenge. I don't know why they force us to get up so early though. Couldn't they have waited until the afternoon?! I am not a morning person. I will admit this happily. In the morning my eyes are usually crusted with sleep, my hair poofs too twice its size, my neck is stiff, and generally I'm pretty groggy and walk around like some sort of zombie from The Walking Dead for the first thirty minutes of the day.

Right now I'm standing in one of the large cold hallways in an overly large shirt, baggy pants, and some fuzzy slippers (I don't really wear slippers but there was no way I was going to go around stomping on the freezing cold marble floors). All the other girls were in their night clothes as well, and their expressions ranged from sleepy to annoyed to totally pissed off. I even caught a glimpse of that Desiree girl who was flirting with Loëk last night. She obviously wasn't expecting to get called so early in the morning, because she didn't have on a shred of makeup. She wore a ridiculously short lace nightgown on as well, though that may have been intentional.

"I wanna go back to bed," I grumble. "So does everyone," Dana said, trudging over to stand beside me. Her hair was frizzy and she was wearing a fluffy blue robe. "Bleh. . ." I stretch my arms, hearing my back pop. Stomping in place, I shake my head a bit, trying to get it to clear. "You look terrible," Dana remarked with a yawn. "Uh huh. Why are we just standing here?" Dana shrugged. "I think we're waiting for Ms. Kapla." Just then she walked into the hallway, air horn in hand. "Speak her name she shall appear." I say, snickering. Dana smothered a giggle and turned her sights to Ms. Kapla. She was as stiff and prim as ever, wearing a crisp pantsuit. "Ok girls!" She yelled. "You better run that sleep from your eyes, because if I see any of you so much as yawn I will make you regret it! For training today, you all will be taking lessons in the history of Werwolves! It is important to know the roots of your ancestors." History? Really? I groan inwardly. I thought this would be a chance to get away from school, not do more of it.

Others were complaining as well, murmuring to one another and groaning until Ms. Kapla silenced us all with an air horn. "No whining!" She snapped. "Now everyone in a single file line!" We all tromped into a line as ordered. I raised my hand. "I'm sorry but I have to pee." A few of the girls nearby snickered but were quickly silenced by Ms. Kapla's sharp taping heels. She stopped in front of me and glared, lips tight. "Are you trying to be funny?"

"No ma'm. I just need to pee."

"Because if you are trying to be funny, then you better stop it!"

"I just need to pee."

"I swear if your making jokes!"

"I really have to pee."

Ms. Kapla huffed. "Hold it until we get to the training room. Everyone, follow me!" We obeyed, walking in a straight line. As we tromped through the halls I had a conversation with Dana. "Hey, so like, I was thinking. You know the whole Mate Bond thing?" Dana gave me a weird look, probably wondering where this was going. "Yeah. . .?" "Isn't it like Stockholm syndrome?" She stared at me, mouth open. "I mean think about it! Sometimes, they kidnap their mates right? Then that technically makes them kidnappers and then BOOM, Mate Bond usually forces them to fall in love. Stockholm syndrome." Dana just stared. Winter," She said finally. "You're really weird." "Thank you, I try my best." I respond and crack my shoulder.

When we got to the training room, a muscular woman and a man in glasses greeted us. "Hello," the man said. "I'm David, your tutor." "And I'm Elaine, your trainer," the woman introduced. A few scattered "Hi's" replied back from the line. I hold in a groan. I hate exercise. I hate learning. Uggggghhhhh.