Part 4

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The uncomfortable weight of anxiety sits in Conrad's chest, and she clears her throat as she tugs at the collar of her t-shirt.

She feels a bit like she's suffocating, and she has a feeling she might be literally suffocating soon. Charlotte's eyes are boring into her, and she swears that her friend can actually see her soul.

"You volunteered yourself?" Charlotte says slowly, clenching her fists on her knees as she stares at Conrad.

"Yeah. It isn't worth letting people get hurt," Conrad shrugs, gnawing on her lip nervously.

In a matter of seconds, Charlotte has risen from her seat, and her fists are bouncing off Conrad's shoulder.

"What the fuck," she cries out, grabbing her fierce friend's hands.

"Conrad! You are our future Beta," Charlotte roars, shaking her friend aggressively.

Conrad is a little irritated by this physical violence, so she quickly and calmly removes Charlotte from her personal space, shaking her head firmly.

"Yes. And as the future Beta, I know that our pack cannot afford the loss a war would cause. I can take care of myself, and you know that very well," Conrad scowls.

Charlotte isn't giving up.

"Yes, but he's an Alpha. You can't protect yourself against an Alpha, you're a Beta," Charlotte emphasises the word Beta, flinging her hands into the air in horror.

Barbara knocks on the bedroom door nervously, holding a tray of biscuits and hot tea.

"Just continue your discussion, I'm not interrupting," she whispers, sliding the tray onto the chest of drawers and sliding back out of the room.

She hates this idea just as much as Charlotte, but she knows her daughter; Conrad is as stubborn as a bull, and begging won't change her mind. It's the first time Barbara has truly regretted instilling values into Conrad because if the girl were even a little selfish, she wouldn't be essentially sacrificing herself.

Mom is lurking, Jane informs Conrad, and Conrad promptly throws a pillow at the door, causing it to close.

"I'm going to apologise to him. I shouldn't have bitten him," Conrad shrugs, continuing to fold some of the clothes on her bed.

"He manhandled you!" Charlotte yelps, snatching the dress her friend is folding out of her hands.

"You had every right to fight back," Charlotte hisses, her pale face taking on a bright red colour in her anger.

"It was rude and uncalled for. I need to practice my responses to things; I can't act like a child if I'm going to be a Luna," Conrad shrugs.

Her tone is detached and slightly cold, and Charlotte sighs, helping her fold some of the clothes.

"That's if you live long enough to be declared Luna," Charlotte murmurs, more to herself than Conrad, but she hears it anyway.

She doesn't comment, moving some of the folded clothing to the first suitcase.

"I don't know how you're planning to pack up your whole life into these four suitcases," Charlotte mutters, and Conrad releases a little giggle.

"My mum said she'd send the rest on. My dad pulled these down from the loft, and I looked at him like he was insane, but he reminded me that they have to fit into a car and Adamo's private jet," Conrad rolls her eyes.

Charlotte raises an eyebrow, her nose scrunching up a little.

"Of course that bastard has a private jet. It's always the assholes who get nice things," she scoffs, beginning to pack Conrad's makeup into separate makeup bags.

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