The Wilde Expedition

2. return of the dweebs

Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.

〮CHAPTER TWO 〮

They happened every year. The balls. The galas. Traveling here to there. At first glance it seemed like a good idea—it was Aunt Amaya's idea, anyway. She viewed it as a sort of hunt in which we gathered the prey and made them dance a little. Literally. It was a ball, after all.

The prey was always an assortment of sons who wouldn't inherit a title, but at least they had money and power. It was funny, really, because they could choose anyone and yet they came to the galas out of curiosity. My future title, and the title Mom now owned, was the hook, of course. They saw who I was and who Mom was and figured it'd be interesting to find out what exactly we were playing at. There was always a lot of skepticism and intrigue, but it was one-sided.

The first year was a rough start. We thought it would move smoothly, without a hitch (except for being slightly overcapacity), but some bright-eyed fellow thought it'd be funny to attempt an assassination. Ridiculous, I know. Here I was, trying to make it through the night, when my instincts kicked it without me knowing and I ducked to avoid a knife to the throat. The blade had struck the wall behind me, and all of the people in my pack were up in arms, hauling ass to subdue the attacker. He was spewing some bullshit about how I was the problem. That I was a mutant.

As if I didn't already know that.

Well, to be fair, I didn't just sit back while Rick, Mom's Beta, hightailed the guy out of there. I was spewing curses straight back at him, and my main man had to hold me back to keep from kicking the guy's skull in. Suffice to say that the little incident ended the first night of the gala, and set the rest of them in motion for failure.

After the first ball, Mom always sent me away with an assortment of men from our pack. Rick was always there, never leaving my side, and on occasion—if he didn't have school, that is—Alister would join us. I wouldn't say we were the greatest of friends, but Mom thought he was pretty high up there in the ranks for potential Betas, so he apprenticed under Rick. Every now and then Charlie—who was often mistaken as a boy until they actually saw her face—would join us. But considering the potential threats that came with going to the balls, and her lack of being a werewolf, her parents didn't appreciate her going much. They thought it was "dangerous" and "a waste of time".

Tell me about it.

....

In the winter, there was a month in which the boys who were sent to study at Six Rivers Academy in California came back on break to visit family and friends. During that time Charlie and I got to see Alister again, because normally, he was off with everyone else. For that first week back, coming home meant leaving again if Mom had anything to do with it.

Going off to school meant being separated from their Alpha, and while normally that would be an issue, Six Rivers Academy for the Gifted boasted headmasters who were second sons, third sons, and so on. As such, they never inherited a title that kept them bound to a pack. The board of werewolves at the school were held in high honor, because rather than disrupt the balance by running off from their families, they put their uncontrollable powers to use.

I heard all about them from everything the guys told me when the came back on break. Alister was especially a fan, not only of the school board, but also the classes they took on the history of lycanthrope, the psychology behind the shift, and the legends and lore that surrounded the werewolf culture.

To me, it just sounded like he hopped on a train to Hogwarts, which made me even more jealous. Instead of a train, though, they traveled by plane there and back, and each time Mom tasked me to meet them at the airport where their school advisor escorted them. The first time I went, I left on bad terms with the advisor, so now we just glared at each other from across the baggage claim while everyone picked up their bags so we could get the hell out of there.