The beta's enemy mate

Summer

Have you ever grown up, knowing something but not actually knowing it? I mean take this one example for instance. My folks always told me that if you ever made a werewolf angry, they would immediately bite our head off.... literally. 

But I can remember one time, I saw a group of kids that were supposedly werewolves, thy were running around, laughing ya know all the normal stuff that kids do.... I had been peeking over the barbed wires fence that separated my community and their "pack". At the time they didn't seem horrific, they were just normal people having fun. But to us "humans" their not normal, their animals, savages. Creatures that when angered stole our children in the night never to be seen again.

Okay I'm getting ahead of myself, hey there.... my name is Summer Andrews, I'm 17, nearly 18. I'll be of age in less then two weeks. And will be shipped off to the Blackwater pack, in America. I currently live in England. Yorkshire to be precise. Once upon a time, humans were ignorant of werewolves. Meaning as far as we knew, werewolves were just fantasy.

It all started when a human girl was rejected by her fated mate. She grew spiteful, hated being turned away, she got proof of their existence and spread the word, the whole world found out and chaos rained down, for fifty years the world was at war, werewolves vs humans, friends turned on friends, families spilt apart, not knowing who was who, not being able to even trust the people closest to you, until one day, the humans and werewolves made a pact.

The agreement was that human girls that turned 18, were to be exchanged for the male warrior shifters of each and every pack, to give their service to the humans. The human girls were made as mates and the werewolf males as labourers. It has been peaceful to say the least, but both sides haven't forgotten the carnage the war brought with it. The humans made sure that they taught their next generations to hate and fear the werewolves, and the werewolves did the same with their next generations.

And so it's customary, to hate and fear all living breathing werewolves, or humans for each side. But.... me? I for some reason don't hate the werewolves. I adore them.... I'm in awe of them. I wish I could be one. The ability o shift into another form? That's pretty cool, to just run and be free, to have a kindred spirit with you at all times? That right there....  that alone makes me envious of them. But everyone and I mean everyone in my community hate them, thy can't seem to understand why I like them the way I do. And I've never really been bothered to change that.

Right now I'm sunbathing on the grassy park outside of Starbucks, with my mango passion fruit Frappuccino, delicious, it's cold, tangy and brightly coloured. Especially in this heat. Or as we all call it global warming. So yeah anyway, I'm here chilling because, as you all know, since the war, girls from 16 don't go to college or even work, until after their 18th. Because if your picked, you go to a pack. If not then you get to either higher your education or get a job.

Personally I hope I am picked, but as of now I'm just lazing around doin nothing, my friends are all either at home or getting ready for a big summer party that they've got planned. Most of my friends have lost their virginity's, it's not a requirement when picked for a pack, but me? I want to lose it to someone that will appreciate it, so I'm 17 an still a virgin. How hilarious.... at least my friends and family think so.

My sunglasses shield my eyes from the suns harsh glare as I lay there feeling the condensation run down my Starbucks cup, the heat has me feeling calm and relaxed. I start dozing off, Bruno mars playing in my ears and then all of a sudden, I feel a kick, on my leg, I hiss in pain as it shoots up my thigh. I glare up at my brothers sneering face. Peter... he's 3 years older then me, and because I sympathize with werewolves, he feels it's his god given duty to treat me like crap.

"Get up freak! Mum and dad have a letter that's addressed to you at home.... maybe E.T wants you to call home." He sneers a second time, and then spits on my arm and stomps off. Tears brim my kids as I try to keep it together. If that letter says anything other then me being accepted, I really didn't want to know, all my family treat me like crap, they taunt me, chide me, make me feel small and stupid, like I'm worthless.... all because I refuse to hate werewolves.

Grabbing my drink and my hoodie off of the now trampled grass, I glide towards my house, hoping with all my heart, that it says I've been chosen, anything to get away from this place. I'd rather wish E.T would phone home at this point. Even mars has to be better then here. I notice my three story stone home, with its dark wood framed windows, the cherry oak door, and the forest green ivy climbing its way up the stones, almost like it was tightening its choke hold on the building. I saw a shadow in the bottom window on the left. Meaning my mother knew of my arrival. Sighing heavily I brace myself at the door for one of her many rehearsed verses and quickly enter.