CHAPTER TWO

I return to camp, still marked by the blood of my enemies, and dread my conversation with the Alpha. How will I answer him?

As I enter the camp, everyone talks excitedly about the way I slaughtered the rouges. My pack looks at me with respect.

The Alpha walks up to me, his eyes filled with pride.

I feel a sense of dread.

"Sasha, you're an amazing fighter,” he says. “You're the most skilled fighter in the pack."

I open my mouth to thank him, but don’t trust myself to speak.

He continues, "I'm proud of you."

I bite my lip, feeling queasy.

"Thank you," I whisper.

He nods, studying me with a serious gaze. "Can I talk to you?" he asks.

I nod. As the rest of the pack celebrates, we find privacy among a grove of trees.

He stares at me with his golden eyes that all the girls love.

"I like you," Drake says, and it seems like the words are coming from someone else.

I feel like I am about to throw up as a knot twists in my stomach.

"I know this is strange," he says. "But I think it's important to be honest about what's going on. And I think you might like me too. How could you not?

“I’m the Alpha. That makes me the most important person in the pack."

Drake's eyes are getting bigger and bigger, filling my vision. I’m dizzy. My stomach feels tight. My heart is beating fast. I can feel it all over my body. It is like every cell is beating along with my heart. My fingers tingle.

“We are the most powerful, Sasha. We are the future of the pack. You were born to be mine. You are mine now. Sasha, won’t you be my mate?”

My heart beats even faster. My body is alive with pleasure. “Drake, I like you. I like you a lot.”

He frowns.

“You don’t love me?” he asks.

“I do, but I…”

I don’t know what to say.

But then suddenly the words just come out.

“…but I won’t be your mate.”

Drake looks at me, devastated. Puzzled.

“You can be my mate, or you can leave,” he says coldly.

I stare at him and act without thinking. I reach out, grab his wrist, haul him forward, and kiss him hard on the mouth. He is shocked into stillness.

I pull back and smile at him, feeling the power of having caught him off guard.

“I like you, Drake,” I say. “But I don't know if I want to be with anyone."

“You're young,” he says. “You're still figuring out who you are. Maybe it's not time yet.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I'm not sure. I mean, what if I do this and I'm not the same when I'm done? What if I'm not the same person at all?”

“You still have to take your chances,” he says.

“I don't know,” I respond. “I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I'm not ready. I don't know anything. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” he says. “Maybe you should think about it.”

A silence stretches as I’m lost in thought. Drake sits there, waiting, awkward and uncertain.

I don’t trust myself to say anymore, especially as I don’t know what I am feeling.

“Sparring time,” I say, and without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away.

*

I step into the large sparring circle in the center of our camp and face the other wolves. I look at them, and they all lower their eyes to the ground.

They’re all waiting for me, wooden swords strapped to their backs. I pull my own sparring sword out of the scabbard on my back.

We circle each other. The sound of our feet on the dirt floor is the only sound--no one speaks.

The first wolf takes a swing at me, but I duck and swing my sword up at his neck. He manages to get his sword up to block the blow.

I strike again, and he blocks. Again, and again.

I have been training for years. I know all the tricks of sword fighting. I am not a clumsy fighter. I am a wolf who knows how to fight, and I know how to win.

He swings at me again, and I duck. I swing back, and my sword cracks him in the ribs. He yowls in pain and backs off.

As I step forward, another man comes at me from my left. He swings his sword at my head, but I duck and swing my sword at his back leg. He collapses to the ground, howling in pain.

The other wolves all look at me, and I know what they're thinking. They're all thinking that they can't win. I'm too much for them.

Two more wolves come at me from different sides, but I turn and swing at the one from the right. My sword knocks him on the nose, and he drops his sword, holding his bleeding face.

I turn and swing my sword at the other wolf who had been attacking me from the left. I jab him in the stomach, and he stops short and falls.

I keep fighting until there is only one wolf left. He looks exhausted and scared as he lies on the ground.

I point my sword at him. "Get up," I say. He doesn't move. I move towards him. He swings, but I jump over it and kick him in the back, knocking him face down into the dirt.

I turn to face the rest of the pack, who are staring at me in awe. I can hear the sound of my own breathing echo in my ears. The pack is silent.

Finally, I take one step back and kneel, lowering my head. I wait for my Alpha to come out and congratulate me.

He steps forward and nods, and the others all cheer.

They quickly disperse, leaving me alone in the circle when suddenly, I hear someone approaching.

As I turn, my stomach drops.

It is my most hated enemy, Mallory. She loves Drake and despises that he likes me.

“Hi, Sasha,” she says, sneering. “It’s time you and I had a talk about Drake.”