Chapter One

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Thick wavy brown hair that you just want to run your fingers through and eyes that reminded you of warm caramel, seemingly innocent but calculating. Narrow shoulders and a toned chest that stretched his shirts so his slight muscles were defined under the thin material.

I sighed dreamily and rested my head on my fist, my elbow hitting the bowl of flour and effectively knocking it to the floor. Everyone shouted out as it tipped over the counter and I hurriedly went down with it. I wasn't sure why exactly, there was no way I could have caught it.

When the white cloud disappeared, I was left on the floor covered in and surrounded by a mess of flour.

"Torin Frey!"

I cringed at the head cooks voice that cut through the surprised silence. My ears burned with embarrassment and I distracted myself by trying to sweep the flour into a pile with my hands.

"Get up and go get a broom. None of us have time for this, after cleaning go to the basement and help with laundry."

I looked up at the head Cook who just so happened to be my mom. "Yes ma'am." I squeaked, pushing myself up off the ground. Risking a glance around the room, I was relieved to discover that the Alpha's son was no longer in the kitchen. The eyes judging me were only those of other Omegas.

Rushing off to the utility closet, I ducked my head so I couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

I should be use to the embarrassment that comes with accidents by now. In grade school, while the other students were getting awards for fastest reader or best writer, I was getting the award for being the clumsiest. I guess it was true, things just seemed to always fall around me. Myself included.

Returning with the broom, I made short work of cleaning up the mess of flour. When I moved towards the counter, the others moved their ingredients as if expecting me to make a bigger mess.

I kept my elbows close to my body and tried not to move too fast. Sweeping everything in the dustpan, I picked it up and headed towards the trash can. I didn't notice the foot a female Omega held out and when I fell again, laughter erupted.

Coughing and waving away the flour cloud, I pushed myself up and looked at the female. The brown haired blue eyed female was one of those Omegas that no one really knew why they were an Omega. She wasn't as submissive or put off by violence, if anything she was just petite like the rest of us. Kelly Webb, everyone knows her. In school a lot of others go as far as calling her the prettiest female in the pack.

I didn't like her for two reasons. One, being that she's a spoiled brat who bullies anyone she deems bellow her and two, she's had her eyes on my Jesper Killian since eighth grade.

"Torin!" I looked up at where my mom was failing to hold back her own laughter and my face burned with shame. I quickly got up and ran from the kitchen, knocking against someone but too embarrassed to stop and apologize. It's not like I could of hurt them or anyone, I'm the runt. Clearly the joke too.

I didn't go to the basement like my mom told me to but instead left the pack house and headed home. It wasn't a far walk, usually I'd ride with mom to work but most days I find myself walking home.

Home is down a dead end back road called Berry Street. The name coming from the raspberry and blackberry bushes almost everyone had in their yards. During the summer they'd be filled with berries and I could snack on them on my walk. The bushes were bare now with winter coming.

When I made it to the house I've grown up in, I noticed dad's cruiser was in the driveway meaning he was home on his lunch break. My shoulders slumped again and I sighed.

Walking up the gravel drive to the white two story house, I started dragging my feet which resulted in me stumbling forward and falling onto my hands and knees. I sat back on my heels and looked down at my bloody palms that were burning. The scratches weren't deep and they'll heal until only the blood was left.

"You're home early." Dad said from where he lounged in his recliner with a half eaten sandwich and root beer. Mom doesn't let him have the real thing because she hates beer guts.

"Yeah." I said lowly, letting the word drag. Dad looked away from the home repair show on the tv to look at my sad state. Still covered in flour and now blood on my hands and knees. Dad shook his head and grumbled under his breath. Probably still wondering how a strong male like him sired a runt.

Going upstairs, I stopped by the bathroom to clean the blood off my hands before going to the door at the end of the hall. It led to more stairs to the attic and I shut the door behind me.

The attic used to be storage for unused furniture and holiday decorations but when I was fourteen I talked my parents into letting me clean it up and make it my bedroom. There wasn't much up here, my bed, desk, dresser, and my bookshelf. It's where I spent most of my time if someone doesn't drag me down or I go looking for food.

Taking off my clothes, I jumped onto my bed and spread out. School was out for thanksgiving break and I was doing everything I did on a normal day, besides sitting in classes for eight hours. Cuddling up to my pillows, I let my eyes drift shut and thought about the one thing that seems to always be on my mind.

Meeting my Mate.

In only a few weeks I'll be turning eighteen and I'll be able to identify my Mate. Hopefully it'll be the one male I've always had a crush on.

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