Forever Mine

PROLOGUE

Skirts of ballroom dresses of all different colours swished around the floor. Above, the crystals of chandeliers reflected rainbows of colours swirling into one another. Heels of shoes stomped against the polished dancefloor. A band played classical music on the stage, the notes of the violin echoing around the impressive ballroom. Couples danced with one another arm in arm, merging in with one another perfectly in a waltz.

Roxy Thorn inhaled a sharp breath when she was gently laid back in a dip by her partner. It was already hard enough to breathe in a corset upright, let alone half upside down. Then there was the matter of her skin getting pinched with every bend her body made. Blood rushed back to her head when the boy who looked the same age as herself brought her back to face him. The other girls, dressed to the nines in ballgowns with perfect postures and charming smiles on their faces, made her realise just how much he was not cut out for this sort of thing.

The White Moon Ball was an event held every five years where werewolves from all corners of the world gathered in the hope of finding their soulmate. It was an event every werewolf had to attend the year they turned sixteen – a year after their first transition – and every ball after until they found the other half created for them by the Moon Goddess.

Back in the early days, when the werewolves had only populated their origin lands, there hadn't been a need for such a thing. There'd only been a few packs and they'd always remained close by. But as time went on, packs needed more and more land as their numbers multiplied and to prevent inbreeding. Males and females from different packs had migrated between packs, territories and regions to settle in the continents of the world. Unbeknownst to the early settlers of the human race, a whole different species had been making foundations alongside them. While the humans build cities and named states, the werewolves were staking out territories and naming regions.

The werewolf migration forged alliances all over the world, but it also created a new problem. With vast distances now between them, soulmates weren't finding each other. Being the passionate creatures werewolves are, suicide rates skyrocketed, the torment of being incomplete too painful to survive. Well-meaning werewolves were driven to insanity. Hence, why the Royal family – the first werewolf descendants – created the White Moon Ball.

Roxy wished she could give the Royals a piece of her mind about the dated tradition but only the highest-ranking wolves of the Alpha committee, had seen the prestigious family, who preferred staying locked away on their wealthy territory in the Snowy Peaks region in the north.

She'd only begun to relax when she was spun away from her dance partner and slung into the arms of another. The blue skirt of her dress spun around her, along with her long blonde hair. She hoped her discomfort and tiredness didn't show on her face, which felt as though it might crack from all the polite smiling she'd done. She'd had enough introductions, seeing the disappointment reflected in her dance partner's eyes at the realisation they weren't soulmates and she was really over the dancing.

'Counting down the hours until midnight?' The boy who guided her across the dancefloor with a hand to the small of her back chuckled.

'Is it that obvious?' Roxy smiled but she was held back in another dip.

'First time?' The boy straightened her and they continued gliding across the dancefloor.

'Uh huh. I only turned sixteen last week.' She gave a grimace. 'I guess you could say this is my party.'

The boy laughed. 'Well then happy birthday...'

'Roxy.'

The boy smiled. 'Jeremy.'

To Roxy's relief the music ceased and everyone stepped back from their partners to applause each other.

'It was nice to meet you, Jeremy.' She lowed herself in a curtsy.