AS Welcome Week finally drew to a close, I couldn't help but sigh in relief. While I knew I still had a long road ahead at the Training Grounds, I was closer to the future I had envisioned for myself. Each day, I grew nearer to the daunting reality of equipping myself for life on Patrol.
Regardless though, I still had several months to endure the cold shoulder from Alpha Wade and his ensemble—even if I couldn't wait for the day the Training Grounds became nothing more than a distant memory.
And then maybe my mate would be nothing more than a distant memory as well.
I closed my eyes. While I had tried to savor the thought, it brought a sharp pang to my chest. Shaking my head, I instead pictured myself and my lean frame clad in the black and blue Patrol uniform. A hat, way too big for my head, would be draped over my head, Bluestrike's glaring emblem stitched on the front.
Often, I had dreamed of wearing the lackluster uniform, fantasizing of the day my name would be amongst the Patrols' roster.
But that was before I had received a seventy-one percent match.
And that was also before I had come face to face with my mate.
A mate, who not only owned and operated the very pack I called home, but a mate who did not want me.
No matter how hard I ran or suppressed my natural desires, I would never be able to outrun the legacy Alpha Wade and his family (primarily his family) had built.
He had not shown his face officially in Bluestrike, but he was still our Alpha; he was still my Alpha.
My Alpha.
My mate.
I snorted. Over the past couple of days, I had become partially conflicted about whether or not I truly did want Alpha Wade and his claim—even if he did not believe it to be real—to vanish from my life.
My head and heart were at war, and it felt like my heart was winning. Throughout all my classes and training lessons, I would be on high alert. Not because I thought danger loomed around the corner but because I was constantly sniffing the area for his scent.
A scent I had grown used to by now.
Cursed with the knowledge my mate resided nearby, my wolf would not grant me even a moment of peace. It was as if my body burned alive with fire ants running up and down every inch of my skin whenever I had an idle moment.
Instead of being able to rest and relax, Alpha Wade had been at the top of my mind.
While I had thought about Bluestrike's illustrious and illusive Alpha before, he had never so wholly consumed my thoughts.
Of course, before a week ago, I had not known the claim Alpha Wade held in my heart.
My heart faltered, and I gritted my teeth. I had to—no, I needed to—get Alpha Wade off my mind.
I intended to sleep my thoughts away, but my body was still sluggish from my endurance class earlier. I perched myself on one of the countless wooden benches surrounding the dormitory's courtyard and kicked my legs slowly in the air.
Leaning into the soft winter chill, I smiled to myself and, for a moment, I envisioned I was somewhere else, anywhere else, really.
But then reality came crashing down in the form of an over-excited Spencer.
"Violet," Spencer gushed, my eyes opening at the sound of his voice. Spencer's cheeks were inflamed, and a couple beads of sweat trailed down his face. He breathlessly took a seat next to me. "Did you," he paused, breathless. "Did you hear?"
I gulped. Had Alpha Wade informed the rest of the pack about my presence, a presence he thought was a threat without my knowledge? My heart jostled in my chest, and all I could offer Spencer was a shake of the head.
Maybe instead of running me out of the Training Grounds himself, he'd have his pack do his dirty work. From the lurking presence of his staff, I knew he was more than capable of persuading Bluestrike members to do his bidding.
Spencer reclined on the bench, crossing his leg over his knees as he said, "It never gets old." He relaxed a hand behind his head, scratching his neck. "Olivia is not going to know what hit her when I get back from training."
"Spencer," I exhaled, blinking hard. "Maybe you should tell me what's so important before you start gloating."
"Right, right," he agreed, sitting upright. He inhaled dramatically. "You'll need to change. Maybe even shower."
I scowled. "Spencer."
"I don't mean you smell," he responded, eyes wide. "I just mean I can smell that you've had a full day of classes."
"Because I have had a full day of classes."
Spencer rolled his eyes. "And you smell—"
"Spencer," I warned. "You've already pointed out that my scent has changed, and you did just say I smell."
"I did?" He tilted his head. "I mean, I know I said you smell, but I didn't mean it like that."
"Spencer." I threw my head back, my brown hair dangling over the side of the wooden bench. "You are the worst at this."
"At what?"
I merely glared at him for the recognition to light up his face.
"Shit." He scratched his chin. "Okay, in my defense, I'm kind of new at this—"
"Spencer!"
"Okay, I'm really bad at this," he huffed. "There's a party."
"A party?"
"An end of Welcome Week party," he explained, his fingers tapping lightly over the smooth wood of the bench.
"No thanks."
"Violet," Spencer groaned, leaning closer until our shoulders were touching.
I asked, "Where is the party at?"
"It's...." His voice trailed while he sheepishly smiled. "It's at the canteen."
"Spencer," I laughed. "Who exactly is throwing this party?"
I nudged him with my shoulder as I waited for his response. As soon as he mentioned a party, I knew exactly which party he was referring to.
To his credit, it was a party, but it was also a sanctioned party. A party put together to help bond the members of Bluestrike as if sweating and bleeding on each other in class was not enough.
He bit his lip. "I see what you're trying to do here, Violet, and I will not support it."
"Support what?" I feigned ignorance.
"Violet."
"Answer me this, Spencer, will there be alcohol?"
"Well." He pursed his lips. "No, but I think that's more because of the fact we're underage, and I think Beta Finn would kill us all before he willingly let us get drunk."
Shaking my head, I wiped my hands on my knees, preparing to march back to my dorm. "There's no way I'm going."
"Violet," Spencer whined. "Come on. I need this."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You remember our middle school dance." He paused, waiting for me to respond. I groaned, blowing a piece of my hair into my face.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah, I mean, it wasn't much of a dance with Ms. Ripple trying to keep enough room between everyone so our future mates, which none of us prepubescent kids had found yet, wouldn't feel threatened."
"Okay, yeah, sure, now that I think about it, that did happen. But it was also the day I got so nervous I threw up everywhere."
"Didn't you throw up in the bathroom?"
He raised his hands. "It was traumatic all the same."
"You want me to go to this Welcome Week party all because you got a little sick, like, eight years ago?"
"Yeah."
Without another word, I hauled myself up from the bench with great effort. My limbs protested underneath me, a crisp crack of my joints rushing through my ears. I sucked in a deep breath, steadying myself before I shut my eyes.
The sudden movement of getting up put my mind in a tailspin. And at first, I thought it was merely because of my aching body. But then I caught wind of a citric scent.
Fuck.
I closed my eyes tighter.
Alpha Wade was nearby. So close I could almost taste oranges on my tongue.
"What is it?"
I swallowed dryly but did not respond.
"What's wrong?"
Whispering, I answered, "I can smell him. Fuck."
"Who?—Oh." I opened my eyes just in time to see recognition dawn on Spencer's flushed face. "Are you saying Alpha Wade is here?"
I shook my head.
"But then—"
"He's not here," I gritted my teeth, looking at my feet before pointing to the ground. "He's here."
Underneath the old and weathered buildings at the Training Grounds, an extensive system of tunnels resided. From the stale stench I had smelt while trekking through the dimly lit halls, I knew the tunnels—at the very least—were not a high-traffic area, so I was not surprised recognition never sprawled over Spencer's face.
My shoulders sagged, the aches in my limbs becoming more prominent. No matter where I went, Alpha Wade's tantalizing scent always had a way of torturing me.
I didn't need this today.
I had spent the last week being watched, put under extra pressure, and antagonized by my mate's scent. Now that the week had finally come to a close, I wanted a reprieve.
But, as it turned out, my luck was in short supply—a common occurrence as of late. This only solidified my belief that Olivia's good luck ritual backfired.
"Do you think?" My mouth dried as I gripped the hem of my shirt. "Do you think Olivia cursed me?"
"Violet, if there's anyone Olivia would have cursed, it would have been me, not you."
"But." I opened my eyes, pointing my gaze at Spencer. "But you can't deny I've had a shit time recently."
"I don't know." Spencer twisted his lips "You got the placement you wanted."
"Yeah." I nodded, unable to say that it had only been a seventy-one percent match, too afraid someone would overhear. "But my mate also thinks I'm an enemy of the pack."
"He said those exact words?"
"We've been over this already, Spencer."
My hands were still clasped around the bottom of my shirt when they started to shake as Alpha Wade's scent grew closer. I took a step back as my legs hit the bench behind me.
As the intensity of Alpha Wade's citric yet woodsy scent grew, my restless wolf grew alongside it. It had been almost a week since I had laid eyes on my mate.
It was near-constant torture. A torture that had caused not only my mind to ache mentally but physically as well.
I wondered if he felt the same effects—if he endured the same pain. Perhaps he had. But then again, he thought the bond between us was a method of manipulation to bring Bluestrike down.
He would—if he was an Alpha worth his weight—endure the pain if it meant keeping his pack safe. Or as safe as a pack with a deadly disease floating around could be.
"Violet," Spencer beaconed as I allowed my feet to trail behind the scent.
Alpha Wade was on the move, and I followed behind, like some loyal dog wagging its tail for a savory treat. I was ashamed of myself, but I continued tracking his scent nonetheless.
"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, watching me with amused eyes as I basically ran myself in circles around the courtyard.
Alpha Wade was playing tricks on me. I was certain of it, but I still couldn't manage to get a grip on the bond. The overwhelming need and instinct to accept the bond were too strong. I had been raised on stories of the power and pleasure of the bond and to have that reality crumble down before me was enough to make my knees go weak.
His scent darted forward, and I picked my pace to follow, edging closer to the trees which surrounded some of the battlegrounds. I moved in quick spurts and was dangerously close to coming face-to-face with a tree when his scent disappeared altogether.
I whirled around, sniffing the air.
Nothing.
Frustrated, I groaned and cursed, "Jackass."
I could have sworn I heard laughter, but I was not in the right frame of mind to trust my senses. So, instead, I threw my arms up and marched back to my dorm room without so much as a goodbye to Spencer.
Locking my door behind me, I buried my face in my pillow, stifling a scream of frustration.
True to my word, I slept through the Welcome Week party and spent the remainder of the weekend similarly. When I was not wallowing in my misery, I was out scouring for anything that would make it hard to catch wind of a particular scent.
By the end of the weekend, I had enough candles to burn several nearby forests, but I had finally managed to break free of Alpha Wade's scent. I only hoped the rest of my time would similarly start to look up.