The Mission

Lyra's POV

Every beat of my heart echoed in my skull. I did my best to project an air of calm, not letting my body language give away the emotions I felt. Commander Rourke sat across from me, still staring at me, waiting for some response or reaction.

"Well, do you understand what the council and I are asking you to do?"

"Yes, Commander. But do you really think....?" Before I could even finish that sentence, he cut me off.

"Yes, Lyra, I do. I've trained you your whole life for this one specific mission," pointing at me and back at him, "You know it, and I know it."

I knew this day was going to come eventually; I just never expected it so soon.

Pushing a strand of hair away from my face, I look back up at him, "Yes, Commander, I understand what you and the council expect of me."

"Commander, may I be dismissed?"

Standing up from his desk, he walked over and patted me on the shoulder. "It'll all work out, Lyra, and this blasted war will finally be over. You can leave, make sure you have your bags packed and ready to leave by tomorrow morning at seven a.m."

Squaring my shoulders, I walked out of his office without another glance back. I needed to mentally prepare myself for what was to come because, regardless of whether I was ready or not, it was coming, and I couldn't fail.

Climbing up to the fourth floor, where our dorm rooms were located, another gray hallway made of gray stone and wooden doors. Grinning, I see my childhood best friend standing in front of my door. All 6'2 of him, he was lean but muscled, years of training toning every inch of him. He had dark hair and an olive complexion like mine, but his eyes were the shade of emerald. We had grown up in the same village, and we were both coming in the convoy together with our families when they were attacked. Out of the one hundred and thirty-five people on the convoy, Rowan and I were the only survivors. We were both trained to be assassins.

"Hey Row, do you have a minute?, Not even giving him a moment to respond, I open my door and pull him inside.

Grinning with that million-dollar smile of his, he reached out and grasped me in a big hug. To say we've never had a romantic tryst, I would be lying. We were both each other's firsts, not our only just our firsts. We'd made a pact that if we were still alive at twenty, we'd be married instead of going through the lottery, because let's be honest, in our field of work, we didn't have a long life span.

Pushing out of the hug, I playfully hit his chest, then throw myself onto my bed while he takes the sitting chair in the corner. Our dorm rooms were simple, consisting of a twin-sized bed, an armoire, a sitting chair, and a small desk near a small window, providing the only source of natural light.

"Well, Rowan, it finally happened," throwing my hand up in the air, "I leave tomorrow at 7 a.m."

"Waitttttttt..........i'm going too right? He just hasn't summoned me?" clenching his fist.

"Nah, Row, you're not coming this time," trying not to let him see the tears in my eyes, I look away.

He and I both knew this mission was suicide; we weren't expected to come home alive, just to make sure we accomplished it.

We both knew what the mission was: Enter The Alpha Academy, where the heirs of the three largest packs in the nation were training, take them out one by one, avenge our families, and end the war.

Suddenly, he was up across the floor before I could blink, grabbing me by my chin, forcing me to look at him. The fierceness in his eyes shone through his green eyes like what I'd imagine a dragon would look like, full of revenge, determination, and lust.

" I don't care what the council says nor what Rourke says," caressing the strands of loose hair from my face, "I go where you go."

Sitting down on the bed next to me, he picks me up so I'm straddling him. His grip on my hips was firm; the look on his face said it all. He was afraid he would lose me, and I hope that never happened.

Flipping me over so my back was on the bed, I let out a loud laugh. Covering my face, I watched him as he crawled over me, leaning down, his lips met mine. Nothing was gentle about the kiss he gave me; it was rough, full of possession and longing. Fully claiming me as his.

A few moments later, it ended as soon as it started. He sat up on the bed, rubbing his fingers through his jet black hair, "Lyra, I'm gonna go pack, then talk to Rourke, regardless of whatever the council says, I'm coming too! I'll leave you to pack."

And as quick as that, he was gone out the door.

I hated this shit. Not the shit of killing werewolves, because I enjoyed that, hoping that one day I will kill the one who took my parents. The shit where I have to go to this damn Alpha Academy and pretend I'm some weak human. I'm not weak; I'm one of the best fighters here, if not the best.

Frustration hit me so bad that I felt like I would explode. Picking up a hardcover book, I threw it across the room until I heard a loud thwack against the stone wall.

"Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk," I screamed at the top of my lungs.

After a few minutes of pacing, I finally calmed myself down enough to start packing. I pulled my duffel from under my bed, still looking brand new. Well, it was brand new because I'd never used it before.

Throwing it on my bed, I made quick work of opening it. Going into my armoire, I got out my jeans, t-shirts, heavy sweaters, jackets, underwear, and bras. I didn't know how long I'd be there, and I would rather be overprepared than underprepared.

Once I was done packing my duffel, I got a small, hidden lock box out from under my bed. Encased in silver, it was beautifully engraved with floral designs with my initials. Pulling a key from the necklace around my neck, I unlocked it, already knowing what I would find: the tools of my trade.

A set of six silver throwing knives, four vials of wolvesbane in liquid form, a medium-sized bottle of silver flakes, and, situated at the bottom, taking up almost half the box, was a small tranquilizer gun with ten darts; strong enough to knock even the strongest werewolf unconscious within twenty seconds.

My tools have never failed me; now the trick is how I will sneak this into the Academy unnoticed. Looking over, I see the small bag containing my toiletries, opening it, I dig around and decide to put the silver box under the tampons and pads.

"Perfect," I whisper to myself. Men are men regardless of the species and won't even want to look past the tampons or pads.