Oops! I Crashed the Alpha King’s Wedding. . .

"You look fine, now can we go already?"

My twin brother, Ricky, whines with exasperation as he leans against the doorframe of the hotel room we had rented.

I look at myself in the mirror for the last time, wondering if I should have done something different with the auburn hair that ran loose down my back and if my short black dress was showing off too much skin for the meeting Ricky and I were being forced to attend.

"Fine!" I sigh, flashing the mascara wand through my eyelashes one last time before tugging on my heels. "What's your rush anyway?"

Ricky rolls his eyes at me before grabbing my purse and throwing it at me, rushing me out of the door.

"I want to see who else is being placed this year. You know, we haven't left Grampa's place in ten years but I'm sure I'll be able to recognize some of our old playmates."

I smile at his enthusiasm. At least one of us is keen for this whole placement for training saga. Having been out of the pack life for the last ten years has made me a tad at a loss. The summons to attend the selection had come a few days after our nineteenth birthday - the poor messenger had to hike a bloody mountain to deliver it to our Grampa's door but the message from the Lycan Council had been clear. Come, or else.

"I wonder how they'll do the selections." He yabbers on, climbing through the passenger door before plonking himself in the driver's seat of his rust-bucket Ford and turning the key in the ignition.

The drive is fairly short - we'd chosen the hotel based on the proximity of it to the conference center that was being used as the venue for the day's event. What seems like hundreds of young lycans seemed to be milling about around the front of the hall, some chatting exuberantly, others sulking in silence.

I hop out of the Ford, holding the door open for my brother to rather clumsily clamber out before slamming it behind him.

"Woah, Natalia. Don't take out your nerves on old Betsy here." He admonishes, patting the old vehicle lovingly.

"Well, when are you going to get old Betsy's door fixed?" I challenge, hands on my hips.

He rolls his eyes at me again, ignoring me as he grabs my hand, dragging me towards a guy wearing a jacket with a familiar emblem emblazoned on its back.

"Hey guys!" Ricky unabashedly barges into the conversation between the guy and his friends.

It takes me a second to realise who they are and why the emblem looked so familiar - they are from our old pack, Red River.

"Hey! Aren't you Eric and Natalia?" A pretty blonde in a floral dress beams at us until we nod.

"I'm Megan! We used to be neighbours before the..." her smile falters.

The massacre that killed our parents, forcing us to move to our reclusive grandfather's home.

"Oh yeah! I remember you! You've outgrown your pigtails." Ricky grins mischievously.

Luckily, Megan doesn't seem offended and quickly introduces us to the rest of the crew who seem somewhat more reserved than her.

"Guess we're all here for the same thing." Megan laughs, grabbing my hand as the doors open and we are asked to enter the cavernous building.

My senses are immediately assaulted by the sheer number of people crammed into the building, the sounds and smells so foreign from my usual quiet existence. One smell floats towards me, a woody scent that makes my mouth drool in appreciation.

"Do you smell that?" I mind-link my brother, knowing that my whisper wouldn't be heard in this din.

"What? The sweaty bodies and smelly feet?" He replies.

"No, that other smell… like what the woods smell like after a rainstorm."

He rolls his eyes at me and shakes his head.

"You're smelling things, Nats."

We get shoved toward a large stage and the smell dissipates. On the stage sit three elderly lycans, wise in years but rather frail looking.

"Good morning, recruits." The youngest of the three ancients greets us, waving his plaid covered arm in greeting. "Quieten down and we will begin. "

He waits for silence, glaring into the souls of the masses… or so it seems.

"As you know, you have all reached the age of nineteen, which means your official warrior training must begin." He bellows. "Ten years ago, the council decided that all young lycans will be required to participate in basic training in order to serve your pack most efficiently. In the interest of improving interpack relations, you will be required to train in a pack different from your own with lycans from various packs. By now you should be well acquainted with your wolves…"

A raucous pack of boys in the back start howling and I hear my own wolf chuckle in my head. The elder waits for silence again before continuing.

"This training is to benefit both you and your wolves so pay attention." He shuffles with some papers. "Now I will read out names and to which pack you have been assigned. You have forty-eight hours to reach the pack and settle in before training commences."

Talk about pressure! My wolf, Ember, sounds exasperated. Next thing, we'll be forced to jump through hoops like we're in a circus.

I can't help but smile. My wolf revealed herself to me when I was sixteen and has been the grouchy old woman in my head ever since. She didn’t exactly agree with us being trained by another pack since she felt that my grandfather's training was more than sufficient - him having been a Beta for more than half of his life. Personally, I think she just enjoyed the freedom she enjoyed under my grandfather's guidance.

Hush, Ember. I admonish. You know we have no choice.  Unlike Grampa, we're still under the jurisdiction of the Red River pack.

We wait as the elder slowly reads out name after name, seemingly taking his sweet time about it.

"...Megan Tratchler, Eric Jones, Natalia Jones" he reads a few more names. "You're heading to the Dark Moon Pack under the direction of Alpha Liam Fletcher. Alright now, that's all from us. You may pick up your travel documents on your way out. Good luck recruits!"

Megan shrieks next to me and wraps her arms around Ricky and myself tightly. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

We grab our travel packs as we file out of the great hall, Ricky quickly saying goodbye to Megan and promising her that we'll catch up at Dark Moon before dragging me towards the Ford.

"We need to get moving if we want to get back to Grampa's to pack and get to Dark Moon in time." He urges. "The drive there is about twelve hours long alone!"

I hop into the Ford after him, cranking down the window to relieve some of the heat that had built up inside the tin can. Ricky quickly pulls out of the parking lot, breezing past a group of lycans standing in the shade of a tree watching the proceedings. The largest of the five turned to face the Ford as we drove past and that tantalising woody smell floods my senses as we drove past in a blur.

Mate! Ember shouted, trying to get my body to clamber out the window to reach him as my brother drove us further away from the group.

I shake my head, a knot forming in my stomach as I fightt against the urge to force my brother to turn the pickup around.

I don't want a mate.

I let Ricky drive us to the hotel room where we quickly grab our bags and drive speedily back to Grampa's mountain. The two hour drive was filled with arguments between Ember and myself as Ricky obliviously sang along to the '80s music blaring from the Ford's tiny speakers.

But whyyyy? Ember whined, not wanting to understand that I wouldn't force Ricky to turn the truck around so I could search for my mate.

Because! I shout back at her. You know how I feel. Ricky and I have to avenge mom and dad's death and I don't need a mate to interfere or mourn for me if I die in the process.

I guess the traumas of my childhood have never really been addressed, but hey. It's not like I'm going to speak to some human psychologist about the night I watched my parents get murdered.

And what if he comes looking for you? She asks, and I can almost envision her head tilted to the side in askance.

He won't.