Chapter Two

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“Happy birthday, Remi,” Mummy put a pretty pink cake in front of me and I happily blew out the candle, wishing for a pony as I did so.

“What did you wish for?” Daddy asked and I giggled.

“I can’t tell you daddy! I won’t get my pony if I tell you my wish!” I laughed at him before realising I already gave myself away. “Oh,” I deflated.

“You have to tell me,” Daddy made a sad face and I giggled again. “Did you wish for a fancy tea set? A doll house? Is it Snow White?” He gasped loudly and my cheeks ached from how wide I was smiling. He missed my slipup!

“I'll go cut up the cake,” Mummy tucked her red hair behind her ear and leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead. I smiled as warmth enveloped me.

Plopping down on my special yellow seat that daddy got because I cried for it, I immediately put my leg up for daddy to help me with my shoes.

My mum didn’t have red hair and we have never owned a yellow seat.

Jerking awake, I shook my head at the absurdity of my dream. They almost felt like memories of a person I knew but didn’t at the same time. If that makes sense.

‘Well happy eighteenth to you, Remi Vaughn.’ I thought to myself.

“It's my birthday,” Deena yelled in a cracked voice and I winced.

“Why do you sound so hoarse?” I asked as I prepared to go take a bath.

“I screamed myself hoarse last night! It’s a full moon today! Do you know what that means? I’m going to run free today!” She continued in her scratchy voice. And she couldn’t wait. I could feel anticipation steadily building in me.

“It’s no wonder I don’t feel rested even after sleeping for over  seven hours. You were up throughout the night! When I go to sleep I want my entire being to be rested,” I rolled my eyes. “How come I didn’t hear or even feel your screams though?”  I asked in curiosity.

“You were sucked into a dratted dream,” she sounded slightly offended and I knew she screamed extra loud for me to wake up. At least the dream had a useful effect. I couldn’t imagine how miserable I would have been if I had to stay up all through the night and still go to school in the morning.

“Oh, thank god,” I replied, blocking her out as I meticulously washed myself.


I hummed the birthday tune to myself as I searched for my favourite jean and prettiest top. Just because my life was miserable and no one would probably remember my birthday didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and make it special for myself. I opened my jewellery case and dug out my gold bracelet. It was the most expensive thing I owned and the most sentimental. Dylan had gotten it for me for my sixth birthday and he used every last penny he had to get it; even tried to sell his bike to pay for it although Mum didn’t let him. Dad had ended up covering the remaining cost.

The bracelet no longer fit but I still treasured it. It reminded me of a time when my family loved me, a time Dylan and I were friends and the pack members still adored my baby cheeks. The life I had before one rather unfortunate incident.

I grabbed the only money I had, twenty dollars, to treat myself to some cinnamon rolls for lunch and made a dreaded mental note to ask my father for money at the weekend.

If there’s anything I know about my mate, it’s that he would first smell like cinnamon rolls to me. Deena told me the first scent of my mate I would catch would be a smell I really love and there’s nothing, in my opinion, that smells better than cinnamon rolls.

I put on the colourful sneakers Clara bought me for my last birthday, noting how slightly uncomfortable they had become, then I walked over to the cracked mirror to check out my outfit.

My blue jean was a skinny high waist and my top was a bright yellow crop top. The sneakers fit with the outfit as it has both yellow and blue as the dominant design, with little splashes of white and red. Thanks to the mirror, my face looked seemingly split in half, with two startling green eyes —my best features— a button nose and a bit too plump pink lips.

My dark blonde hair was styled in a half braided up do and my cheeks were slightly rosy. I brushed my brows with an old toothbrush and smiled at my reflection. I looked good at least.

Walking to school, I sang Happy Birthday to myself.

‘I hope I’m mated to Mason.’ I thought to myself and Deena snorted.

“I doubt it,” She said and I frowned.

“Why? Do you not like him?” It occurred to me that in all my years of dreaming of Mason, Deena never said anything. I knew she couldn’t feel any sort of outside connection to anyone asides her mate but Mason was sooo niceee. “Wait, do you already know our mate!?” The possibility struck me so hard I stumbled.

“Of course not, silly. But I’ve never felt anything for him. Then again I’ve never felt anything for anyone,” She replied and I let out a sigh of relief. “But I’m almost certain it’s not him,” She finished but I chose to ignore her. What did she know anyway. What did I know.

I said a quick prayer to the Moon Goddess before I stepped foot in school, chanting Mason under my breathe. ‘Please be Mason. Please be Mason. Please be Mason.’ I even crossed my fingers behind me.

I scanned the school building for any sign of Mason as I walked to my locker but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. I knew he wasn’t at college because I could catch a faint scent of lavender common to his family and a dash of pinecone particular to him.

The chances of Mason being my mate were slim to one in a million unmated werewolves and I knew that. My mate could be in Sierra Leone for all I knew. After all, my parents met in Canada when they were both twenty, after two years of being eligible.

I sniffed Clara before I saw her. She smelled like every other omega— peaches. “Happy birthday," she said, wrapping her hands around me. My heart swelled as I embraced her in return.

A small part of me had expected her not to remember since we weren’t that close. You see, Clara and I, we were the runts of the pack. Clara as an Omega orphan and me as a useless and weak Alpha. We were sort of friends but it was mostly because no one else would befriend us. Our friendship was more a case of the weak and friendless sticking together than anything else.

She handed me a box and the aroma of cinnamon rolls hit me before I opened it. I hugged her again and she handed me a smaller box. It contained a simple necklace with our pack symbol that she made herself. My eyes watered as I took it out, mumbling my appreciation.

"Thank you" I said, truly touched by her kindness.

"It's no problem.” She shrugged.
“Will you go into the wood with me tonight? It’s a full moon and it’ll be my first shift.” I asked suddenly.

It wasn’t a small offer. Watching a person’s first shift is an honour usually reserved for immediate family and close friends but I knew no one in my family would care to join. Dylan would laugh in my face if I even suggested he came.

“Are you sure?” I could see the excitement in her startled gaze as I nodded. “Thank you so soo much!” She threw her hands around me again.

For a split second I regretted telling her. What if my wolf was ugly or something? A wolf is most vulnerable during their shift so I needed her. I wasn’t expecting to be attacked but better safe than mauled by wolves.
Just then, the most indescribable feeling hit me. I felt like I  was rolling in a field of cinnamon and I was high on it. I vaguely registered Clara grab my arm and ask me something but I shrugged her off, moving towards that incredible scent.

I  stumbled into two people and I was shoved, but I didn’t care. The scent was pulling me to the school’s parking lot. That was all I cared about. A part of me still chanted Mason’s name as I pushed open the school doors.

My heart leapt as I saw Dylan, Mason and Jack hanging around Jack’s car. The scent was coming from there!

I grinded to a halt when I placed the exact person emitting that sweet scent. Surely there had to be a mistake I thought as I glanced around in horror. He couldn’t be my mate!

“Mate!” He growled low and there was no mistaking it. I turned and ran back into the school, my mate hot on my heels.

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