A huff escaped me as I checked my watch. Just ten minutes until the ceremony concluded. I could see the hall from here; if I could reach the doors within that window, a partner would be mine to choose.
I closed my eyes, my resolve firm. No giving up. I gripped my dress and began to sprint. As I neared the entrance, I saw the ladies at the tables packing up and chatting. A small queue of only a few remained, likely omegas who had been held back earlier.
A gasp followed my arrival at the doors, the other young ladies turning to stare with wide eyes. I was clearly sweaty, dirty, and exhausted.
"Miss Cassy!" A line attendant recognized me. "What are you doing here?" She scanned me from head to toe, her recognition a stark contrast to my own lack of it. "Alpha Josh said you had the flu and were out this year." My teeth clenched. Josh. He'd tried to stop me, no doubt sensing my plan.
"A small misunderstanding," I said, forcing a weak smile and trying to straighten my clothes and hair. "Can I go in now?" My anxiety spiked as only a couple of women remained.
"Well... I guess..." The attendant sounded hesitant. The other ladies exchanged looks before focusing on me. "But are you sure? You could always wait another year." Her scrutinizing gaze made me acutely aware of my appearance.
I glanced at the dwindling line. The last woman was entering the hall. The doors began to close. "I'm sure!" I yelled, a surge of adrenaline propelling me forward.
The grand hall fell into a sudden, hushed silence as I burst through the doors, a whirlwind of adrenaline and raw emotion. My wolf stirred within me, a restless presence, but beneath the prickle of nerves, a surprising current of… anticipation buzzed through her.
I took a deep, steadying breath, straightening my spine, aiming for the regal bearing of an alpha's daughter. My gaze swept across the room, landing on my stepfather at the front, his brow furrowed in disapproval. Even the ladies mid-stride halted, their attention snapping to me. High above, in the gallery, my mother's worried eyes met mine, and I offered a small, reassuring smile, receiving a slight nod in return.
With one last, bracing exhale, trying to smooth my hair and dress, I surveyed the sea of expectant faces. All the prominent seats in the front row were occupied, save for one. My eyes landed on Josh. He smirked, a smug certainty radiating from him, as if he'd already claimed victory. For a fleeting moment, his confident gaze threatened to pull me under, to make me shrink away. But then, something shifted. A flicker of steel ignited within me, a surge of unyielding defiance. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze directly. His smirk faltered, a barely perceptible twitch betraying his surprise. And then, I began to walk.
My initial path was straight towards his vacant seat, a calculated move that brought a flash of renewed brightness to his eyes. He clearly thought I was conceding, accepting his unspoken challenge. But just as he braced himself, I pivoted, continuing my determined stride *past* him, down the aisle towards the assembled members of other packs in the back. A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the air as I passed him, a sound I forced myself to ignore. Looking back was no longer an option. My focus was fixed ahead, on the prospect of forging a different path, on the possibility that, amidst the unfamiliar faces, I might find an unexpected ally, a glimmer of hope in this daunting assembly.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as seat after seat vanished. A wave of panic washed over me as I realized the dwindling options. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry, and practically stumbled to the last row. Relief, thin and fragile, bloomed when I saw a few empty seats, But the relief was short-lived, replaced by a gnawing dread. I *had* to choose wisely. This wasn't just about finding a place; it was about survival.
My gaze drifted to the right. There, a man in his early twenties sat alone. He was striking – dark skin, a smooth, bald head, and an outfit of a soft, light gray that seemed to absorb the ambient light. His jawline was sharp, perfectly chiseled, and his brown eyes held a warmth that was almost disarming. A small pin, affixed to his shirt, caught my attention. The symbol of the Winter Moon pack. I knew it; it belonged to a pack situated a considerable distance from my own, across the vast expanse of the continent.
As if sensing my scrutiny, he turned his head, and a gentle, almost hesitant smile graced his lips. It was a smile that offered a flicker of hope, but also, a silent question. I brightened, a smile already curving my lips as I turned to him, ready to take my seat.
But then, a tantalizingly sweet, almost cloying vanilla scent wafted to me, hijacking my attention. It wasn't something I could ignore. Instinct took over, and I spun around, my gaze sweeping down the opposite row. My eyes landed on him. Twelve seats away, a man sat in a sharp, dark suit, his face obscured by a black mask. All I could see were his eyes, a startlingly beautiful shade of blue, which seemed to lock onto mine, piercing through the mask. My breath hitched, a gasp caught somewhere between my lungs and my lips. And then, clearer than anything else in that crowded room, a whisper, faint yet undeniably present, echoed in the deepest part of my mind. *Mate.* My wolf practically sang the word.