Bloodroot

Chapter One - Amara

The screeching smoke alarm was not my preferred wake-up call. Rolling over, I pulled the covers over my head, hoping the offensive noise would magically stop—no such luck. Groaning, I threw off the covers and sat up straight, letting out a low growl—a great way to start the day – a rude awakening and the first day back to school. I looked critically at the girl staring back at me from my dresser mirror. She looked the same as yesterday. Unique eyes greeted me – the left eye was an ocean blue, while the right eye was a bright, emerald green. My hair was all over the place, like flames dancing in the wind. Sighing, I got out of bed and trudged to my bathroom. I put my long, curly, auburn hair in a bun and turned on the shower. Giving the water time to heat, I brushed my teeth; then, I stripped down and hopped into the shower letting the hot water loosen the muscles in my back. Finding it hard to breathe, I began to think about what could happen this month, with the Fall Gathering coming up. After turning eighteen, at one of the annual Equinoxes or Solstices, a wolf can find their mate. A growl escaped from deep inside my throat at the word "mate."

For half of a second, I wished to be fully human. Humans didn't have to worry about such things. But then I remembered feeling the wind in my fur and the ground beneath my paws as I ran through the woods. I loved my wolf side and could not imagine living without it – even if it meant finding a mate. A "mate" is supposed to be your partner and lover for life. They are supposed to love you and protect you at any cost, but it doesn't always happen that way. The thought of discovering my mate does not excite me...at all. What if he rejects me? What if I deny him? What if it's Dakota? Please, Moon Goddess, don't let it be Dakota. A cry of desperation begins to crawl up my throat. Turning off the water, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it tightly around me, as if the embrace from the cloth could provide comfort. Stepping out of the shower, I looked towards the mirror and felt shame course through my veins at the fear in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, those same eyes turned cool, as I reminded myself that I am the future Alpha of my pack. I cannot be afraid. I will not be scared. The coolness slowly became determination – in control of my emotions, once again, I turned away.

As I walked to my room, I let the wet towel drop to the floor and began to look through my closet. After rejecting half of my clothes, as evidenced by the growing pile on the bed, I finally settled on my tight-fitting maroon pants, a white crop top, a biker jacket, and my ballet flats. Throwing my hair up into a high ponytail, I opened the door to find my dad on the other side.

"Hey, Peanut," he exclaimed, wrapping me in his arms and lifting me off my feet. "How's my senior?"

"Currently, unable to breathe," I gasped. Dad laughed and loosened his hold while lowering me back to the floor. He towered over my five-foot frame at six-foot and three inches. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his wallet out and handed me his Platinum Card.

"We haven't gone shopping for new school clothes, yet. Why don't you and a few friends go shopping after school?"

"Thank you, Daddy!"

"Don't spend it all in one place," he joked, leaning down to give me a peck on the cheek.

Skipping downstairs, I headed for the kitchen, while dad turned to go to his study. Before I reached my destination, I stopped to stare at the picture of Claire, my birth mother, hanging on the hallway wall. Claire abandoned me when I was eight days old. She walked away without a word to anyone, leaving me with one blue eye and curly hair as my only mementos. According to my dad, following my birth, Claire went into a deep depression, otherwise known as Postpartum Psychosis, and didn't want anything to do with me. The doctors said to give it time – she would come around. She never did, though. Since they were wrong about her "coming around," I often wondered if they were inaccurate about their diagnosis. A part of me believed she just didn't want me. That somehow, someway I was such a disappointment to her she would walk away from everything and everyone. Shaking my head to dislodge such depressing thoughts, I continued walking towards the kitchen.