1. Kate

Our meagre belongings packed into battered leather suitcases, we said goodbye to our so-called home. For the last time we stood together in the run-down town square. The desolate orphanage that had housed us for the past eighteen years was soon to be a distant memory.

Grey, remorseless granite, swirling with red dust everywhere. Orphanage 8 had always looked like a gateway to somewhere evil even when they tried to smarten it up.

“You going to miss the place?” Roxie asked, her red-lipped face set in a sour grimace, kicking at a pebble with her kitten heel.

“No, because I’m taking the best bit with me,” slipping my arm into hers with a smile. Both our parents had died fighting for the Fyrestone Pack, leaving us stranded in this backward town. A childhood constantly coughing on red dust and swatting away flies.

The ancient bus finally spluttered through the compound gates. Enclosed within a white-walled paradise the scent of lemons and citrus fruits was overwhelming. Green olive trees lined the avenues, their spindly branches clashing with the crisp whiteness of the surrounding buildings..

Spilling out into a terracotta courtyard the view was breathtaking. Roxie let out a giddy shriek, jumping around dramatically, immediately drawing stares.

I stood in utter shock. Our home for the next year was seriously impressive. Like being plucked from the gutter and onto the brightest stage.

“It’s just so different,” I murmured, breathing in the new air. Roxie and I had just enough cash to get a pleasant shared room. As we hauled our cases up and down the white stone steps we chatted merrily, the air fizzing with optimism.

As other new girls Cherry, Martha and Sinead introduced themselves, I felt a twinge of embarrassment. They were so shiny and polished compared to Roxie and I. Yet they were friendly enough, promising parties and fun.

“I cannot fucking wait!” Roxie shouted, accidentally hitting the blonde Cherry in the elbow as she jumped up and down. She always get it wrong when she tries too hard to be liked.

A few guys said hello too, most of them very much enjoying Roxie’s neon pink, low-cut halter. She pouted and flirted back. I’ve got no time for messing about this year.

Roxie is so casual, but if we fail the Assessment, we will never be able to buy another chance. We will be Other and condemned to a life of hard, unrewarding, miserable labour.

“Our parents were all fighters, we are born to live amongst the Alpha’s and Beta’s” Roxie argues, as if that means we should find this next year easy.

Hours of chatting and wandering the grounds meant that I didn't notice the gathering of thick, dark clouds as dusk approached. It became so gloomy I started to shiver, as the sun’s warmth whipped away from us.

“Shit, how is it raining!” Roxie squealed, tottering in her kitten heels. “Run, run, run!” she laughed as she scampered ahead of me. The storm was immediate. The torrential rain fell so fast and heavy I couldn’t even see in front of me.

Roxie didn’t hear my shouts or ignored them over the roar of the splashing as I quickly became disorientated.

She had our room keys, I had a stack of new books. They were getting soaked fast, there was no way I was going to make it back to our room without them being ruined. Scanning the identical tall white buildings, I scampered towards the one with a large, dry archway..

Placing my books down on a small wooden bench I scraped my drenched hair from my face and studied the storm. I tried to pointlessly wring out the lower half of my baby pink cotton top. It was already see-through.

My wolf picked up a burning scent. I twisted my head and found myself being studied by the darkest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.

Leaning against the other side of the archway was a tall, powerful presence. His black leather jacket matched his rumpled hair and intense eyes.

Dangerously interesting as I felt my wolf Raya stir in a whole new way. Normally calm and placid, she was practically spinning at this new scent.

“Well, this is a new move,” his voice a deep, granite rumble as he tilted his head ever so slightly, a hint of a smile on his perfect lips. Taller than me, definitely a few years older too, all added together into one seriously handsome man.

“Sorry?”

“I mean, the girls aren’t normally so forward as to queue at my front door. But I'll play along.”

A little shiver ran up my spine, which I’m choosing to blame on my soaked clothes. Not the heat of his gaze, or bonfire scent.

Definitely the weather.

I pointed downwards, “I’m only here protecting my books, sorry,” my baggy top slipping right down along one shoulder. His eyes left mine and stared at my damp, bare skin, and neon pink bra strap for a second too long. Still watching me, he leaned against the opposite end of the white arch, his leather jacket catching small droplets of rain.

“Sure about that?” his eyebrow cocked, a hint of a smirk on his olive-skinned face. Stepping forward his dark voice was full of temptation, “You can dry off inside if you like,” and I swear I saw a flash of ruby red cross his iris.

His eyes flicked down to my lips and I found my breath catching in my throat despite the weak pick-up line. Had my eyes given me away, was he seeing any silver flashes?

I chose to play it cool, rolling my eyes and smiling, “Now, I bet that’s not a new move,”

I jumped as he huskily whispered “But you’re so wet,” into my ear. The closer he got to me the more the air seemed to crackle and right now he was far too close.

“What!” as a flustered panic shot through me. Was my attraction to him so obvious that he could smell it?

Though he took a step back, his eyes remained trained on me. Slowly his lips curved into a smile as he looked down the full length of my rain-drenched body.

“Your clothes. Are wet.”

As the embarrassment of my reaction sank in, a fiery blush exploded across my face.