Plum

1: Men and Boys

      Plum released a shaky breath and her cheeks bloomed with colour. She felt the intricate embroidery patterns with her fingertips on the beautiful and simple wedding dress. The seamstress had designed it specifically for the young girl.

   The dress had sheer short-cut sleeves; the ribcage had embellished flowers sweeping from the mid-breast to her lower abdomen.

   "I love it," Plum softly chirped. But she knew that she couldn't fully appreciate the dress.

   At the young age of eighteen, Plum was selected by an elder in her pack to wed. Her mate hadn't found her yet, and the lack of effort that he put in made Plum's parents despise him already.

   She was chosen to wed Alexander Carmichael –an Beta male and monster alone. She was scared. She pleaded and cried to her mother and father, begging them not to embrace the wedding, and let her run away.

   But that wasn't an option. Werewolves in the pack are there for one reason. To repopulate and expand the pack. They need to breed, and arranged weddings were one solved way of getting there sooner.

   "Plum, he is waiting," her mother muttered softly, helping Plum from the podium her dress was bound on.

   "Ma, p-please," she softly encouraged, her palms pressed together as she fervently prayed in her mind.

   She was given a mate for a reason, and marrying a man old enough to be her father made her want to puke.

   A few moments passed and the forest was quiet. She stood near the threshold of the door as soft chirping of guests proceeded to the chairs and sat down. She bit her lip and ran her tongue over her mouth –soaking up the tears that streamed down her face.

   "Wait!" her mother padded over quickly, her eyes fraternising with her husband as she gently smiled at her daughter that sobbed softly to herself.

   "We need to put blush on. He will not like you turning beat red. Even if you do, this can be an excuse," she mumbled, assessing her daughter with strongly held eyes.

   "I-I, oh-kay, ma," she whispered softly.

   Her mother narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, opening quickly the blush palette and dusting two large prominent rosy circles on her daughters' cheeks.

   Plum bit her plump pale pink lip and looked at her mother hesitantly, her eyes welling up with tears.

   "P-Please d-don't make me go through this..." she pleaded quietly. Her eyes gazed down to her trembling fingers that dug crescent moons into her palms out of habit. She would rather die than betray her mate.

   "He will treat you well," Collette, her mother, encouraged and she smiled.

   Plum gulped and gave a shy smile of her own. She had been set to marry a man over fifty. She had seen him once before, and his eyes were unsettling and made her nervous.

   Plum new that female wolves couldn't detect their mate, only the male significant other could. But she knew, deep deep down, that her heart didn't beat with excitement when she saw him.

   His false claims of love were a lie to sleep with her and take her virginity. And it made her sick.

   Her father, Dominic, held a small smile of his own, rubbing his daughters back in sympathy as his wife made her way down the aisle to her seat.

   "I'm so sorry, baby," he sucked in his thick bottom lip and felt his heart sink. He was selling of his daughter, and her happiness was at stake. He didn't want to do this, but Dominic was not a man to stand up against his wife.