FIFTEEN | RED

“I can’t believe I don’t turn eighteen for another month,” Rosa huffed.

We were sat together in my bedroom, getting ready for the annual Mating Ball. Rosa was pouting, her lips bare without their usual swathe of red lipstick. It was unusual to see her without makeup on, but I knew that soon she would look back to normal and then some.

We had about two hours until the ball commenced, and we finally got to meet the other three packs in attendance. So far, five of our pack had found their mates in the Silver Shore pack. Hopefully, tonight that number would increase drastically.

The only two that I knew even moderately well were Michael and Ellie, who had quickly become the source of many jokes around the reservation. They surpassed even the grandest legends of the mate bond; they were near constantly entwined, not kissing, just holding one another and staring into their eyes. It was sweet, really, and underneath the ligh