One Luna, Three Hated Alphas

"Slow down a bit, Aaliyah. You're making it harder to keep up," My best friend's tiny voice cries in desperation for the thousandth time.

It feels like a symphony to my ears and I giggle as I increase my pace.

I'm lost in the thrill that comes with leaving the house unnoticed, going through the woods, and now, on the verge of climbing down the huge walls that surround the pack house.

"Hurry up, Shelly. Or we might get caught," I shake my head at her whimpering and decide to slow down.

She gets to where I'm standing and she's panting heavily. Her hair is a blonde mess, her mascara is smudged from the few tears she shed. Remind me never to take Shelly on my night escapes again.

"Do we really have to do this?" She asks in fear, glancing at the walls in front of us.

"Yes, we do. Except you wanna stay back and have endless chats with the visitors," I tell her, folding my arms in front of my chest.

I see the indecisiveness in her eyes, but I could bet my lungs that she will never choose to engage the visitors in chats.

Today is our annual carnival, and as the most sophisticated pack in the region, we have all the other packs flooding down here for the event.

Wild Crest Pack is my home, and I'm the only daughter of Alpha Ethan. I lost my Mum at birth, but I was told she was the prettiest Luna ever. I grew up in the care of Nannies, and it wasn't so bad.

Shelly here is my best friend and the only daughter of the Beta.

Now, as the only child of the Alpha, I'm expected to be prim and proper, cool-headed, lady-like, head deep into the laws of the pack, engage in cocktail parties, slow music, and every other thing that reeks of 'boredom'.  

But I'm not the typical Alpha's daughter. I love my freedom. I love the outside life. I love going to nightclubs rather than formal evening parties. I love pants more than dresses, especially denim pants ripped at the knees. I love to let my hair down more than the usual ponytail that most typical Alpha daughters wear. I love baggy clothes. I love hair extensions. My favorite color is purple and I gave my hair a purple tint, with a little bang. I love boots rather than stilettos. I love books, but not in a way that I use them as a distraction from reality. I love hip-hop and rap, other than slow music and blues. I love adventures and taking fool-hardy risks.

But then, Shelly is everything I'm supposed to be. Cool-headed, introverted, geeky but pretty, less-opinionated, but listens more. Blonde and always in ponytails. Fancies dresses and never on pants. Shys away from guys, thinks things through before doing them, never takes risks, prudish, and too obedient for her own good.

On most occasions, we get compared to each other and I'm told to be a little more like her. But the truth remains that I'll rather chug down a million wolfsbane than be anything like Shelly.

I love her to bits but I never wanna be like her. I love the wild me, and I'm never changing that.

"Okay, fine. Let's go," She mumbles and drags her long dress as we walk the narrow path.

We get to the wall and I hop down first. It was easy for me, but then I waited an hour before Shelly could muster the courage to get down the walls.

"Finally!!" I squeal, embracing the heat of the carnival. This has to be the first reason why I love my pack.

Shelly holds my hand in fear as we join the crowd. I take lots of pictures of the costumes and the events.

I'm still gushing over a man jogging firesticks when I hear shouting beside me.

"Shelly?" I call her name. She isn't next to me anymore. I turn around and see her with a woman.

"I'm really sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to ruin your fruits," Shelly pleads, almost in tears.

"But you did!" The woman yells, pointing at her fruits that are scattered in different directions. "Now where do I get the money to buy dinner for my little pups?!"

"Here, Ma'am," I quickly pay for the damage and pull Shelly with me as we walk away in hurried strides.

"Do not create another scene, Shelly," I clench out, letting go of her hands. We are now away from the ugly scene.

"Aaliyah, please. Let's just go home," She begs, now in tears. "It's scary out here,"

"You don't have to be such a crybaby," I roll my eyes at her. "This is a carnival, not a ritual process. It's supposed to be fun,"

"But it's not, okay? I'm freaking out and all I want right now is to be locked in the comfort of my bedroom,"

"We can't go home yet," I state matter-of-factly, "The fight hasn't begun, and I'm not leaving without watching it,"

"But Aaliyah…your father will be so worried right now,"

Of course, she's gonna use that punch line. Too bad it's not gonna work today.

"I can just mind-link him that I'm okay,"

"But he doesn't want you out here. You know that,"

"He doesn't want a lot of things. That doesn't mean I have to give in all the time," I mumble, looking around.

"You should try to understand your old man. He wants what is best for you, and that's definitely not being out here in the middle of this craziness,"

"I've tried understanding him, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that he wants to keep me locked up all my life. I'm not some third-rated Cinderella, locked up in a tower, awaiting my prince Charming in white horse to come rescue me,"

"Aww…how romantic it would be," Shelly gushes, grinning from ear to ear.

"Cut it out," I snap at her.

"I can't help it. You know I'm a sucker for fairytales," she pouts.

"Whatever," I puff, "The fact remains that I can't be restricted,"

"Well, I'd rather be locked up in a tower forever. I'm not gonna miss out on much anyways,"

"Sure, you won't," I scoff sarcastically, still looking around. "Tell me something, Shelly. Doesn't it bother you that you act somewhat like a hillbilly?"

"No, I don't," She defends instantly, her cheeks flushing, giving her a more crimson shade.

"The truth hurts, girl," I pat her shoulder with a fake grin on my face. "You need to live a little. There's a more fascinating world outside your books and your glasses and your pet,"

"Keep Fallon out of this," She says.

"Sorry," I raise my hands in surrender. Fallon is Shelly's cat, and she adores him more than anything. Sometimes I wonder if he is her fated mate.

"But in all seriousness, you need to live a little. Life is too short and you never know what's gonna happen next…"

Something about what I just said hit me and I feel a sizzling fear in my heart. It feels like I am foreseeing a catastrophe. Something that might just turn my life upside down…