Forced Mate

1: Mate

I slowly sip some punch out of a clear plastic cup. I'm almost certain everyone here knows my cup contains alcohol, since they are wolves and have heightened senses. I turn to the refreshment table, my eyes searching for the bottle of Vodka I'd had earlier.

Now where did that go...

The crystal bottle flashes in front of my eyes, and I glance over to look at the person holding it- Jon. "Looking for this?" He smiles, his shaggy brown hair sweeping down into his eyes. I laugh, taking it away from his grasp and pouring more into my half-empty cup. He watches me intently, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. 

"Long night," I answer his expression, his head merely nodding in understanding. 

"So," He says as he lounges against the table nonchalantly, "have you felt the pull? Any tingly sparks when someone touched you? Or, the best one, that insatiable desire to suck someone's face off?" I giggle at his sarcasm, sweeping my brown bangs out of my eyes. 

"Nope, not yet," I shrug, glancing around. "Do you think it's because you haven't shifted yet?" He questions out of the blue, his eyes conveying that this is a serious question. 

"I don't know," I shrug again, "Maybe."

So the deal is, I just turned 18. Turning 18 in werewolf world means becoming a full wolf and being able to utilize the perks at any time. The only problem is that I haven't changed yet. It usually happens that night, but for me, it was a night full of anticipation, and ultimate disappointment. I sigh, my lips curving down into a frown as I think back to that night last week. How excited I was, and also how depressed I was. 

"This is so stupid," Jon's voice breaks me out of my thoughts. 

"Yeah, it is."

You see, every year, every pack from our area comes to large mandatory gathering, in which unmated wolves mingle, and hopefully find their mate. I've been coming here since I was thirteen, and I've seen it all. I've witnessed mates fall into each other's arms in a happy love spell, and I've seen the girls struggling to get away from their so-called mates. I shudder at the idea of a stranger trying to take me away to his pack, in which I'd never see mine again. "You're quiet," Jon's sickly sweet tone snaps me back to earth, again.

 I blink rapidly, then turn to him, "Sorry, I was just thinking about the girls who get dragged away instead of falling into their loving mate's arms," I say dramatically, using hand gestures for emphasis. 

He laughs, "Don't forget the face-sucking!" We both laugh loudly, earning some glares from the people around us. As our chuckles die down, Jon's face drops as his eyes find the staircase. I confusedly move my eyes to where his are focused, and I see him.

The infamous Jaxon Thames, Alpha of the Moonlight Pack, AKA the most powerful clan of werewolves in the whole southern part of America.

Oh crap.

I swallow the bile rising up in my throat, vaguely hearing Jon's voice, "Big bad Alpha apparently hasn't found a Luna." I answer with a slow head nod, my eyes following the man on the stairs' every move. His eyes scan the crowd, the impassive glare he emits signaling that none of these women are his mate. I keenly focus on him, getting somewhat lost in his repertoire. His raven hair spills loosely across his forehead, his formal suit and tie playing along very well with the fact that he's a dominant Alpha in these parts. He has that perfectly sculpted jaw line, which lies just centimeters away from his full, pale pink lips. My eyes move up his face to his, finding that they're locked on me. We stare at each other for a long while, both of our looks passive and disenchanted with all of this. He suddenly breaks it off to tap my alpha on the shoulder, gathering his full attention. He whispers something to Ryan- alpha of my pack- and he nods, starting down the stairs with Jaxon and some of his pack members following. I watch curiously as to where they're going, seeing that they're coming closer and closer to me.

This is so not happening right now.

"I'll talk to you later, Jon. I-I have to go," I squeak out, rushing away before he can answer.

Nope. Nuh-uh. There no way that I'm leaving my clan just to go be with some arrogant, power-hungry, twenty-six year old. I cant. I won't. I hurry through the house, slipping in-between people and almost knocking over several drinks. I mutter my apologies through my teeth as I push through the crowds.

Maybe alcohol wasn't such a good idea.

When I finally reach the back doors, I burst through them, the cold air hitting me like a ton of bricks. I hurry down the steps and into the sand, walking as quickly as I can while remaining inconspicuous. If I run, they'll know I know, and they need to think I don't know- If that makes any sense whatsoever. You're babbling, Belle, just remember, breathe, is what Jon would say when I became panicky and nervous. Oh crap! If I do get taken by those animals, then I'll surely have a panic attack, and Jon is the only one who knows how to calm me down. Not my day. I'm close to darting up to the pavilion, from where I'll hurry home, making up some lame excuse about a stomach ache. As my hand finds the wooden railing, I hear Ryan's cheery voice behind me, 

"Isabelle!" I freeze dead in my tracks, wincing at my name. 

"Ryan," I say apprehensively as I slowly spin around to face him. Jaxon is standing patiently beside him, hands locked in front of him, face taking on a look of curiosity and taunting. 

"What're you doing out here? Why aren't you at the party?" He questions. 

"I-I have a stomach ache. Jon was supposed to-uh- tell you," I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, sensing Jaxon tense up at the sound of another man's name coming off my lips. 

"Oh!" Ryan says, seemingly reassured. "Well, Isabelle, I have some great news for you!" 

I raise an eyebrow, "My dad isn't dead?" 

A frown tugs at Ryan's lips, his voice coming out less cheery, "Well, no-" 

"They found my mom?" 

"No, Isabelle-" 

"Well, there couldn't really be any news greater than those two things, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to the pack house."

I start back up the stairs, when Ryan's voice comes out strong, "Don't go anywhere," his words sparked with dominance. I sigh, rolling my eyes and turning around to face them all. I give him an impatient glare, and his smile returns, "Isabelle, I'd like you to meet your mate, Jaxon."