Fated To My Nemesis

ARCHIE

If there's one thing I hate more than early morning training, it will be being reminded every five minutes that I'm the future alpha of the Starfall Pack.

And Isidore Mortain.

“Stand straight, Archie.” My father’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I tried hard to hold back the urge to roll my eyes.

“Now smile. The council members are waiting.”

A grim smile tugged at my lips.

“Not like that. You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

“Maybe I do want to murder someone.”

My father's eyes darkened, and he shot me a glare that only made me grin.

“Archie.” My father called in a warning tone.

Then I gave him my most charming smile. “There. Better, right?”

My father, Gordon Decatur, Alpha of the Starfall Pack, gave me a three-second-long look before shaking his head in frustration.

“Eighteen years old, and you still act like a pup.”

“And yet, I'm your favorite son.” I grinned.

“You're my only son,” my father shot back.

“Exactly. Imagine the competition if you had another son.” I shrugged playfully.

My father closed his eyes as if he were praying for patience.

I love annoying him.

Unfortunately, my father isn't the only person trying to make my eighteenth birthday as unbearable as possible.

Apparently, turning eighteen wasn't just another birthday for me.

It was a declaration.

A responsibility.

A reminder that I was one step closer to inheriting my father's position as the Alpha of the Starfall Pack.

And, according to my mom, it was the perfect opportunity to dress me in an expensive suit and invite half the supernatural population in Grimwood and beyond.

To remind them that I'm a respectable young man.

Respectable.

That word deserves a moment of silence.

I'm many things.

Handsome? Yes.

Athletic? Obviously.

Popular? Ask anyone in Grimwood Academy.

But a respectable young man? Well, that depends on who you ask.

My mother would probably say yes.

My coach will say I'm a natural-born leader.

The girls who had spent three years trying to get my attention would say I was the best thing that happened to this town.

My father would say I'm a headache.

But one pale-faced bloodsucker would probably say I'm an embarrassment to the entire werewolf species.

Which brings me to my next problem.

“Tell me the vampires aren't coming,” I asked.

My father opened his eyes. “They are.”

I stared at him.

“God… Dad.”

“Son.”

“It's my birthday,” I whined.

“And?”

“I don't want bloodsuckers at my birthday party!” I threw my hands out in frustration.

My father shot me a murderous glare.

I quickly held my hands up. “I’m just saying we have enough guests without inviting people who think sunlight is a personal attack.”

My father sighed. “Isidore's father is the head of the Sanguine Clan. His presence is demanded under the treaty.”

“Then his father can come without his son.”

“His son is his heir.”

“His son can stay at home and practice looking down on people in the mirror.”

“Archie.”

“What?”

“Not one word about this tonight.”

I sighed dramatically. “Yes, Alpha.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

He gave me a warning look before walking towards the arriving guests. I watched him go before looking out the enormous window overlooking our garden.

The entire Starfall estate had been transformed for the occasion. Silver decorations hung from trees, and lights shone on the pathways.

Music drifted through the open door.

Food and drinks were carried around by waiters.

Wolves from neighboring packs arrived with their families. The supernatural council moved around groups of werewolves, vampires, and witches, pretending like everyone in attendance was just like them.

Grimwood is a beautiful town.

Home to vampires, witches, werewolves, and humans.

Even if we and the vampires share the same streets, it doesn't mean we're friends.

We have a treaty.

An old, very strict treaty that keeps both species from attacking each other without consequences.

The treaty was established after a war so devastating that the older residents rarely spoke of it.

Entire families wiped out.

Territories destroyed.

Vampire blood stained the lands of the werewolves, werewolves hung up on stakes around the vampires’ stronghold.

The war ended.

But the hatred? No.

It was passed down from generation to generation.

Werewolves believe the vampires are manipulative creatures who think everyone is potential prey.

Vampires believe werewolves are violent animals incapable of controlling their instincts.

But both sides have enough historical evidence to support their arguments, and neither is ready to change their minds.

My father had spent most of my childhood reminding me that the treaty existed for a reason.

The vampire clan leader apparently spent the same amount of time telling his son that werewolves couldn't be trusted.

Which was why Isidore Mortain and I had been at each other's throats since we were old enough to understand what the other was.

We lived in the same town.

We went to the same school.

Attended the same supernatural events.

And, unfortunately, shared mutual acquaintances, which made avoiding each other impossible.

He is also the most irritating person I've ever met.

Isidore has a talent for irritating me without even trying.

He could literally walk into a room and look at me once, then make me feel like the stupidest person alive.

He never raised his voice.

Never threw a punch.

He just simply looked at me with those sharp, dark, unimpressed eyes and made a remark about my intelligence.

Then he would walk away like he hadn't ruined my entire day.

I hated him.

I hated his stupid, perfect hair, his expensive clothes, and his quiet arrogance. The way he looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.

And mostly, I hated how unimpressed he always seemed to be by me.

I mean, everyone is impressed by me at Grimwood Academy.

Everyone wants to be my friend or date me because, at Grimwood, I’m practically royalty.

But Isidore didn't care.

He could watch an entire room turn towards me and still look as if the furniture were more interesting.

He played in the school band, kept excellent grades, and possessed the kind of slender build that made him stand out.

His skin was pale, almost luminous under certain lights. His honey-brown hair fell in soft strands that framed a face that was both sharp and strangely delicate.

He had high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a mouth that seemed only one remark away from ruining my mood.

He is beautiful.

Annoyingly beautiful.

Not that I would ever say that aloud. I’d rather throw myself into the lake before saying that.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

                                      Conrad   

           WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?

I chuckled as I read the message. My fingers hovered over my phone as I typed away.

                                             ME  

                 My birthday party obviously?

                                     Conrad   

       Your birthday party is boring Come outside   

                                        Me  

                                I'm outside.

                                      Conrad   

            Come on, the other outside idiot

I laughed. Conrad is my best friend, a fellow werewolf. One of the few people who can insult me without regretting it the next second.

I slipped my phone into my pocket before heading to the garden.

Conrad, some of the football team, and Talia Bleddlyn, a witch and also one of my close friends, were there.

“Look who it is, the birthday boy!” Conrad announced. He was holding a bottle of champagne he had probably taken from a waiter.

I grinned as I reached them. “Keep yelling. The entire town hasn't heard.”

“Happy birthday, asshole!” He grinned as he patted my shoulder.

“Thanks, asshole.”

We bumped fists.

“Happy birthday, Wolfie.” Talia smiled as she reached out to hug me.

“Thanks, T.” I hugged her back.

“Look at you, an adult!” Talia grinned as we pulled back, her dark pixie-cut hairstyle catching the light.

“Yeah…”

“Your mother really went all out with the suit. Look at you!” Conrad said, one arm around Talia’s shoulder.

“Don't remind me,” I groaned.

“You look good, though,” Conrad complimented me.

“I know.” I smirked.

Talia shook her head, laughing, while Conrad rolled his eyes.

“I hate you,” he said in a mock-angry tone.

“Get in line,” I shot back, and we all burst out laughing.

Conrad’s gaze drifted to the entrance. “Oh, shit.”

I followed his stare. “What?”

“Guess who's here?” Conrad whistled.

I didn't need to ask.

My jaw clenched, and my mood dropped to fifty percent.

“You can just act like he's not here,” Talia said softly.

The black car that was pulling into the driveway came to a stop. A tall man in a charcoal suit stepped out, followed by a woman in a dark dress and… my nemesis.

Isidore Mortain.