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Sarah looks exactly the same as when she left a year ago- she possesses the toned arms and legs of a warrior and this long curly brown hair that reaches the bottom of her back. We share the same brown eyes, but hers seem to consume her. At times of high stress or anger, her brown iris' blur with the pupil to the point where it all becomes one dark color. I've been on the receiving end of her glare, and it's not something I ever want fucking aimed at me again if I can help it.My sister is a warrior through and through- a warrior for the High Council, in fact. The High Council consists of one of each of the most prominent supernatural creatures in our society. Werewolves, Vampires, Witches, Goblins, and Gnomes make up some of the seats. I'm not sure how the other species select their representative, but for werewolves it is a combination of physical and mental strength. Since they are so important in our world, each representative typically has a shit-ton of protection placed around her or him.
Sarah was skilled enough to be accepted as a personal guard to the werewolf representative, along with a few of his trusted allies. One of said allies turned out to be her mate, and the two have been acting like lovesick puppies ever since.
It's honestly disgusting.
I've seen them together only twice, and I threw up in my mouth the first time.
Sarah sweeps her extremely long brown hair over her shoulder, the ringlets bouncing around as they play with gravity.
"Long time no see," she says sweetly, the dark glimmer in her eyes a clear challenge. Sarah was never the ally I needed against our strict parents. No, they loved her dearly because she was a warrior, strong and tough, a child who always knew the right thing to say and never spoke out of turn.
That was never me.
"Maybe it's been so long because you fucking left," I respond, taking another bite of my apple. My parents gasp as if I just cursed the Moon Goddess.
"Cooper!" my mother berates me as she stands to her feet, her cold glare enough to make me slightly regret my tone. "Be respectful to your sister, you brat."
She finally reaches me and snags the barely-eaten apple out of my hand as she throws it across the room. I'm still starving from my lack of lunch but I don't dare complain. A warrior wouldn't do that.
I'm a warrior in my own right- I pile defenses so high, walls so thick, and my quick tongue lashes out at anyone who dares to confront me like the most dangerous weapon.
My mother grabs my arm, her grip tight on my bicep as she hauls me over to the couch and practically shoves me into the seat next to my dear sister.
Sarah's eyes soften slightly at our mother's manhandling, but she says nothing.
She always says nothing.
"We're going to sit as a family and talk," my father chimes in, although his gaze drifts to the crinkled newspaper in his lap as his eyes lazily drag up and down the page to soak up anything that isn't this conversation.
"Talk about what?" I ask, although I already know the answer- Sarah.
"Your sister was just talking about how she's going to be staying in town with her mate for a little while," my mom excitedly mentions.
I contain the eye-roll.
"Why have you decided to grace us with your presence this time? I thought Dick was enough for you," I say, looking at my nails that seriously need to be buffed and filed.
YOU ARE READING
The Mark of a Beta
WerewolfCooper Bradenton hates high school- most likely because his fellow werewolf classmates are assholes and treat him as the gay loner outcast. He has never been that guy- the popular jock with great grades, the powerful warrior with incredible skills a...