As I enter the building, I am taken aback by the sheer amount of wolves my age, each ready to take on their responsibilities in this pack. Everyone is dressed in their best attire, hoping to leave a good impression as we all aim for the highest position possible. Many of the females have put a lot of consideration into their attire, switching their short shorts in the summer here for conservative dresses, blouses, and slacks. Only the few females who aim to climb the pack hierarchy are dressed in revealing clothing, most likely trying to catch the attention of a Warrior, a Theta, or even the Alpha. But we all have one position we do not want to obtain: the Breeder.
Breeders are the she-wolves assigned to become the pup producers in the pack. Their job is to allow the mateless warriors of Pine Paw to breed them, with no say in who their partner is during the current breeding period. Its intended purpose is to add more wolves to the pack population and bring about stronger wolves for the next generation. Many wolves believe it to be an honorable position a she-wolf can obtain, but we all know the truth. Once you become a Breeder, you are nothing more than a slave, a tool for men to use your body for their own pleasure while they rape you into producing the next lot of pups for the pack. If you ask me, it is a barbaric way to increase the pack’s population, but the chosen she-wolves have no say in their position of a Breeder and no say in ending this barbaric job. To say that the slim chance of being chosen for this position scares me is an understatement. I am terrified for any she-wolf, myself included, that might receive this position. Knowing that for the next part of their life, the she-wolf will be a slave until she produces the specified amount of twenty pups for the pack. It is a life of isolation and even torture and I send a silent prayer to the Goddess that I do not receive this role.
While everyone else mingles about the pack house, chatting about what positions they wish to receive and the lucky ones exclaiming when finding their soulmate, I stick to myself and make my way to a corner of the room where I can be left alone. Most people my age tend to enjoy mingling and talking to one another, but I always felt like an outcast. No one wanted to be friends with the she-wolf who lost her parents and was raised by two male wolves. No one wants to talk to a she-wolf who fights back when homophobic slurs are said. And so I sit and watch the room, waiting for when I can greet the Alpha.
The scent of perfume and cologne is strong with everyone together in such a closed-off space but it makes it easier to discern who belongs to which faction. The wolves standing by the punch bowl -most likely spiked with some form of alcohol – that smell like a grade eight locker room where boys use Axe as a shower-in-a-can are the ones built for power. Each male wolf built with muscle-on-muscle will become a Warrior and climb the ranks as they train and defend our pack. For now, these six-teen-year-olds fangirl about some sports game that was on last night and who won.
The group of small wolves that do their best to blend into the background with little to no scent on them will be Omegas. They will do the regular work around the pack from cooking and cleaning to taking care of the daycare and little pups. These Omegas are what we refer to as the working class since some of them will also help run the companies owned by the pack by doing a nine-to-five job like regular humans.
Then there is a group of wolves that fit between the Omegas and Warriors: I call them the Acolytes. They’re standing by the bookshelves and seem to be in a heated debate about some type of medical theory. These Acolytes will fill in positions such as Pack Doctors, Nurses, Architects, builders, and any task that requires in-depth schooling and specialized research and planning. We can't rely on humans to help build our community and risk exposing the werewolf race, so these wolves take the place of any jobs that require any university or college degree. If it weren’t for my Alpha and Beta bloodline where I may become a mate to either an Alpha or Beta, I would be considered an Acolyte and part of that debate.
Taking a seat on an armchair once I reach my destination to the corner with a window I can stare out of, I spot the Alpha talking to a few girls who try their best to look coy and sexy before him. I always wondered how pushing your body against a male would benefit a she-wolf other than being used and taken advantage of, but I made no comment on their behavior. I preferred working hard for the things I wanted and being independent. The idea of needing a strong male to take care of and protect me like a precious doll seemed a little old-fashioned to me. It’s not that I don’t want whoever my mate is, but I crave being independent more. Christ jokes around saying that it’s the Alpha blood in me wanting to be respected and not under someone else’s control.
Two warriors are standing a respectful distance away from Alpha Sam but close enough to act on his command. These warriors are the ones that will step into action once Alpha Sam designates a she-wolf as the next pack Breeder. They are the wolves everyone fears since they have a higher status than the regular warriors. Not only do they protect the Alpha, but they are also given special privileges as wolves who forsake the mate bond, intending to stay mateless for the rest of their lives just to have their pick of the Breeder populace. At any moment, they can storm into a Breeder’s home and fuck her as he pleases. Every mother warns her daughter to never go near the ten warriors dedicated to this position since some abuse their powers to take a she-wolf that catches his eye. There are many stories of she-wolves being raped to please these men when a Breeder is unavailable, and there is nothing the young girl can do other than accept her fate.
I keep an eye on Alpha, knowing that at any moment, he will make his rounds around the room and decide the fate of the newly shifted. Disgust and annoyance are evident on Alpha's face as a she-wolf gets too close to him, pushing her “assets” into his face in hopes of seducing Alpha Sam. I blame her behavior on the many reminders her parents must have given the poor blonde she-wolf before sending her inside the pack house. Most families hope to have their pup mated to the Alpha since this will bring honor and prestige to them. Unfortunately for her, Alpha Sam has never shown any interest in the pack whores let alone a newly-shifted she-wolf like her. Her greed will not get her the position she wants. My turn to speak to him will come soon. I know the two positions I wanted: Acolyte, as I have bypassed high school and am currently enrolled in college, and Warrior, as Chris and Jack have been training me to fight since I was seven years old, and intensified my training once I shifted, to include not only hand-to-hand combat in human form that has been drilled into me for years, but also combat in wolf form. Only Alpha Sam can designate these roles to me with my bloodline.
I turn my attention to the window, deciding to ignore everyone in the room and watch as small pups chase each other around in the yard, their laughter and squeals of delight floating in on the wind through the open window. They look so carefree, and I smile at their game of tag. The scent of summer wildflowers, the dew still clinging to the pack house gardens from this morning, and the fresh aroma of pine surrounding our pack house whisks away the nauseating stench of sweat, perfume, and cologne permeating from the wolves in today’s meeting. I know Chris and Jack want me to mingle with everyone, but I see no point. Many wolves do their best to stay away from me so I will stay away from them.
Movement from inside the room catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn just in time to watch as Alpha excuses himself from the she-wolves, much to their protest and dismay, and makes his way in my direction, specifically to where I sit in my corner. I smile at our young Alpha Sam, who, at twenty-two, has yet to find his mate to rule beside him as his Luna of this pack. He is the most eligible bachelor that every she-wolf dreams of being mated to and that is also why wolves my age steer clear of me.
“Laina, how ni-” He stops mid-greeting, standing before me and sniffing the air, and moves closer to where I sit while he focuses his attention solely on me. Excitement bubbles inside me with the possibility this brings. His scent wafts over me, and a feeling of calmness runs through every nerve ending in my body. Could I possibly be his mate?