The Society | Completed

Part 1

Conrad Rosser doesn't feel well.

The doorbell rings, and she jolts, cringing back into her pillow as the noise startles her.

She releases a grunt, slowly hauling herself to her feet as she puts a hand to her head, trying to steady herself before she takes a step.

As soon as she lifts her foot from the ground, her stomach churns, and she claps a hand over her mouth, hurrying to the basin in the corner of her bedroom.

She vomits for what feels like forever, and she stares at the mess in disgust.

She hasn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, yet her stomach can still manage to find something to expel.

The doorbell rings again, and she releases a scream, snatching her fuzzy white blanket off her bed and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders.

She closes her eyes for a second, shoving her feet into her fuzzy slippers as she walks towards the door.

She opens the door reluctantly, and as soon as she steps outside her bedroom, the doorbell rings for the third time.

An automatic scowl lands on her face, and she storms down the stairs, now infuriated by the visitor's behaviour.

Anyone else would have given up.

She composes herself before opening the door, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the door.

Her mouth drops open in horror as she realises what she looks like, and she frantically tries to comb through her hair with her fingers. She didn't sleep well at all, and she definitely looks like something out of a horror movie.

The doorbell rings again, and Conrad curses under her breath, abandoning her mission to make herself look more presentable and deciding to deal with whoever is so desperate for her attention that they can't wait for two minutes.

She plasters a smile onto her face and unlocks the door, greeting the boy at it pleasantly.

"Uh, is this the Rosser family residence?" The guy asks hesitantly, looking slightly fearful.

She doesn't blame him; she looks genuinely horrific.

You could have at least stopped to put a bra on, Jane complains.

You could have at least stopped me getting sick, Conrad responds sarcastically, tightening her blanket around her.

"Yes, it is. Who are you looking for?" She questions, staring at the boy curiously.

She doesn't recognise him, even though she knows almost everyone her age from the pack.

"I was looking for Beta Rosser," the boy manages to stutter out.

"Oh, dad," she mumbles, furrowing her brows, "I think he's in meetings this morning."

"You're the future Beta?" He asks, and she nods, wiggling her toes in her slippers to try to release some of her nervous energy.

"You don't really look like a Beta," the boy comments, and she stares at him blankly.

"And what is a Beta supposed to look like?" She sighs, too tired to give him a smart-ass response like she usually would. She also has no idea who this guy is, and her blocked nose means that she can't smell his scent to figure out if he has a rank or not, so it's probably safest to wait for him to respond.

"I was just saying. Anyway, if you see your dad, tell him the sixty wolves from the Baxter pack have arrived for the East Coast convention," he shrugs, and Clover rubs her forehead, nodding at him.