The morning after Cole subjected me to an embarrassing beat down started the first day of my 'real' education. I wasn't sure what learning about being a werewolf entailed, but I hadn't expected to start with a geography lesson.
And Elena's serious.
"Now... There are five territories in our country." Elena laid out a large book, shoved a map spread across two pages in front of me, and fanned it flatter with her hand on the binding. "Each territory is owned, controlled, and run by a different werewolf pack."
Her other hand's finger tapped the landlocked territory, etched in a thicker border of black ink. "Your father is Alpha Cassius over the Central territory, with controlled alliances between the Northern, Eastern, Southern, and Western territories."
Her finger moved across each marked territory as she spoke, paired with a quiet tap. All four of the directional territories surrounded my father's area, with "White Moon" written over the center of the map.
"My father controls all of this?" I frowned down at the map. "Like... a king?"
"Werewolves don't have kings." Her lips twitched up at the corners and eyes sparkled behind her lenses.
"Then why am I called Princess?" My eyes lifted as I questioned her teasing.
Her smile faded into a firm line, and voice shifted back into a bossy teacher mode, "I don't know. There's not much history on you in this library."
"What?" My eyes traveled down the poorly lit, dusty row of bookshelves behind her head. They led into the dark, musty corner of the restricted section, where Elena had pulled all our reading material from. "There's stuff on me in here?"
She snorted and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Of course, it's within your family history books. Every pack has a book, although your family's is a bit sparse."
I wiggled my eyebrows. "What do they say?"
Stunningly beautiful, witty but lonely girl kept in isolation?
I've been drinking the fairy tale Kool Aid too long.
In my defense, as weak as my ability to punch Cole's smug face, the princess disillusion was hard to let go of, harder than the mafia conspiracy theory.
Equally as embarrassing though.
"Not much." She shifted in her seat and frown lines creased between her eyebrows, like she bore weighted information. Her lips parted, which she wet with the tip of her tongue. "Your mother died in childbirth, along with your brother, and you survived."
My eyes averted down to my hands, which I unclasped in my lap and flattened on my thighs under the table.
Survived.
The corners of my mouth curled down at the word, yet it described my life perfectly. I existed, took up space, and converted oxygen into carbon dioxide. I'd never accomplished anything of significance in my life and hadn't lived at all.
Maybe not yet?
My father's words 'everything will change...' echoed through my mind. I didn't have a chance to dwell on the thought though.
"So, back to this." She tapped her index finger on the map, redirecting my attention back with her 'direct track to Snoozeville' geography lesson. "Each territory is controlled by a separate pack, but yes your father controls those packs. He controls everything and everyone."
No surprise there.
Bitterness bubbled in my stomach as her words 'he controls everything' filtered through my ears and settled on my consciousness. I hoped other girls in this country didn't have their bodies manipulated like in my pleasurable injection experiences.
Don't get me started on the werewolf part. Still wrapping my brain around that mind fuck.
The only observable werewolf benefit, so far, was that my injection bruises were gone within twenty-four hours. Previously, they faded in a few days, but I wasn't about to break into a song and dance to encourage myself to sprout fur out my skin.
My eyes traced the edges of my father's territory. Being surrounded on all sides, it looked the hardest defensible position.
"How does he do that?" The country seemed like such an expansive space, the country stretched from sea to sea and included plains, mountains, and wetlands.
How can my father, in her words, control everyone?
"He controls the alphas," she replied in a monotone voice, as if that was common knowledge. In Elena's defense, I assumed it was but unknown to me.
"Alphas..." I repeated slowly. My father required me to learn the Greek alphabet, so I knew Alpha was A, the first letter. But I knew nothing of its importance within this context.
"The strongest male within each pack. Alpha's are the male leader in charge. Betas and gammas are tertiary leaders. Your father's pack is here in the Central territory, but he also has warriors ensuring his... interests..." Elena's voice trailed with her finger's path around the map. "Within each of the other ones."
"Warriors?" My eyes widened.
This now sounds like an army.
"You know them better as security personnel." She nodded at one of the guards positioned at the library's entrance doorway.
Surrounded by old, smelly books, we were seated at a large table and poured over dozens of the oldest and smellies ones that Elena had pulled. Some of their pages were so fragile, they looked as if they'd disintegrate upon touch but she carried them with such delicacy, they were in better hands than mine.
I didn't spend a lot of time in the library. The books I found of interest, like romance novels, had nothing to do with this subject... Or any other sense of reality.
Warriors though...
I stared at the security guy who stood at the library entrance on my detail. My heart thumped faster as I studied his muscular arms bracketing his tall, fitted frame. He shifted under my gaze, but remained silent.
From across the library, he looked like a normal, ordinary human dressed in all black with a holstered Glock-19 holstered on his hip.
How did I not know?
My eyes closed because I knew that answer.
Because I wasn't looking close enough.
"What are my father's 'interests'?" As I echoed Elena's word, I wondered if they had nothing to do with his pharmaceutical company.
"Whatever he determines to be best for his pack. It's called the White Moon." Her index finger tapped right on in the center of the map, emphasizing its importance, before she pulled her hand back to her lap.
"Wait -" I interrupted as my eyebrows creased together. "My father is the Alpha?"
"Yes. Of the White Moon pack." Her tone slipped into a condescending one, as if she was explaining this to a five year-old. I sure felt like a five year-old hearing the information all for the first time. "Within each pack, there is a hierarchy of command and respect. Each is led by an Alpha male, second in command is the Beta, third the Gamma. The Alpha's mate is a Luna."
And there's more of the alphabet.
"What does the Luna do?" I interrupted.
Elena slid her glasses up her nose, her eyes studying mine before she answered, "She is the pack matriarch. In particular, she supports the Alpha, running whatever responsibilities he needs and mating to preserve the bloodlines."
My heart sank at her words.
A den mother?
The position sounded worse than a death sentence. At least in the imaginary drug cartel I had a gun, an identity that didn't involve being a wife and offspring factory.
"How is the Alpha chosen?"
"Either by birth order within a family, the eldest son has first priority, or... other means." Elena looked away, her eyes gazing out the library entrance.
"Other means... like an election?" The words 'werewolf democracy' had a nice ring to them.
"One pack conquering another, using slaughtering out any form of resistance."
Oh.
While Elena spoke in her quiet, soft, subdued tone, the wispy hairs on the back of my neck rose at her words. The guards being referred to as warriors and the absence of women within my father's house clicked into recognition.
Having more warriors than other packs would be one strategy as he maintained control of his... 'interests.'
My back rounded and I cupped my elbows in my palms and braced them onto the table. "How are the Betas and Gammas chosen?"
"By the Alpha."
Sounds fair enough.
"And the Luna?"
"The Luna is selected through the mate bond." She smiled at the significance held here, but I stared at her.
"And that is?" I couldn't remember the last time I felt so ignorant about one topic.
"A natural, biological pairing of two partners. As the strongest bond, our equivalence to marriage. It goes beyond commitment, their souls are bonded. Once mated, mates do everything in their power to protect each other, sharing a physical and mental connection that's so strong that if one is in pain then the other suffers, and..."
"And?" My eyebrows lifted and I leaned in.
Not sure I want the answer... This keeps getting worse.
"If one dies, then most often so does his mate."
Yup, got worse.
All the air in my lungs whooshed out in one breath. Emptied, I sagged back in my seat.
Yup, got worse.
Cupping my forehead in one palm, I asked, "How are mates chosen?"
"By the Moon Goddess." I buried my head in my palms.
I wasn't sure which was worse, the influx of unfamiliar information or my frustration in my ignorance not being able to absorb all of the information Elena threw at me.
My eyebrows drew together. "And who is she?"
"She is the goddess in charge of selecting mates. She communicates with werewolves of importance, guiding and influencing their future. Her children are pure in color, including black, white, gold, and silver."
At Elena's words, a rolling sensation pulled in my stomach, like a dull cramping sensation tugging deep in my belly. The mild pain was chased by nausea and a dry sensation built up in the back of my throat.
"Elena..." I pressed my fingertips to my forehead, which throbbed against my fingers. I assumed the headache was most likely caused by an overload of new, unfamiliar information and how the information related to me in any shape or form.
"I'm..." Elena doubled, so I fluttered my eyes open and closed until my vision cleared. "Not feeling so well, can we continue later?"
"Of course." She closed the book we peered over and nodded at the security guard.
A sharp pain bit into my abdomen, which doubled me over and pushed my chair back. I stood up to a sudden flush in my underwear. The pulling sensation in my abdomen turned painful, and I palmed the table.
"Are you okay?" Elena's eyes pulled wide as she closed the remaining books on the table.
"I'm fine." I clenched my eyes closed as another wave of pain hit me like I was kicked in the stomach... by a foot wearing cleats.
"Zara..." My eyes cracked open to her fingers reaching out to me.
"I'm fine!" I flipped my eyes open and waved her off.
Elena had seemed like a kind person, but this felt like something I needed to push through on my own. My chest heaved as I took a deep, shaky breath and stood up on equally shaky legs.
"Don't follow me." I frowned at the security guy who approached, his palms offered like I was a pile of eggshells. I pushed my chair up to the table, spun on my heel, and fled the library.
My feet took as many hurried steps as they could down the hallway to my bedroom. The pain shifted from dull pulling sensations to hot, sharp stabs, increasing with each grounding of my heels on the floor.
The pain reached a searing level by the time I clung to my bedroom doorway, coupled with another warm flush in my underwear. Dampness coated the skin in between my legs. I rushed into the bathroom and lowered my pants with trembling fingers.
My jaw dropped at how my underwear and pants were completely soaked through in blood.
Unsure of what else to do, I climbed into the shower, undressed, and washed the blood off my legs and clothes. Rivers of crimson trailed down the edges of the bathtub, circling the drain before thinning and disappearing.
I bent over and my elbows clutched my stomach as continuous waves of pain washed over me. My back slid down the cold tiles of the shower wall until I sat down, folded my arms over my knees, and hugged them close to my chest. Motionless and thoughtless, I sat there and breathed through the pain until the water ran cold.
The shower curtain drew back with a screech of the metal hooks along the bar. My eyes lifted up from my fetal position as water trickled over my body.
Violent trembles shook my lips and chin, vibrating up into my cheeks. Goosebumps peppered my skin as I hugged my elbows into my stomach, cocooning the source of pain that stabbed into my abdominal area over and over.
"Think that's about enough." Anna reached over my head and shut off the water.
My hooded eyes lifted to her blurry silhouette, as pain overwhelmed my other senses. My focus numbed under the knife-like stabs into my pelvic muscles.
I'll happily let Cole slam me down a hundred times over than feel this again.
"Here, this will help." She handed me a glass of water and four large, white pills.
I eyed them cupped in her palm, since any sense of trust we established was obliterated.
Her voice softened to the border of kindness. My suspicions weakened as my pelvic muscles coiled and felt ripped open. "Pain relievers, although you might be a bit drowsy. Rest and food will help."
"Thuh-thanks..."
I swallowed the pills in one mouthful. She wrapped a towel around me and pulled me up to a standing position. Her eyes averted down to my wet, blood-tinged pants, but her expression remained stoic and unreadable.
"Rest." She walked me over to my bed and the softness under me indicated she'd laid me down.
My mind blurred from the intensity of the pain, my body drained with fatigue from fighting it, my muscles strained and defeated. Weakness closed my eyes and my mind didn't register a sharp pinch when she pushed a needle into my arm.
What is this?
Pain flipped open my eyes and caught my voice in my throat, but my mind wondered if this was my period. I knew periods were a lot of bleeding and cramping, but this felt like hemorrhaging while a pair of spiked heels kicked me in the abdomen.
Am I transforming?
Swollen and heavy, my eyelids dragged closer together. My eyelashes fluttered before sleep robbed me of any answers to my questions.