The fateful day had finally arrived, the one which I had been preparing for since birth, one which my parents had been preparing for since I’d been conceived. Well that wasn’t exactly true, my parents had been preparing, I on the other hand had been mostly unwilling with the whole affair. See I was a werewolf, my whole family was, or pack if you will. It was tradition for all those of marriageable age to gather on the strongest werewolf pack in the world, to try and impress the next Alpha to be, the most powerful werewolf in the world. It was a major honour to be chosen by the Alpha, for the individual and their whole pack.
So here I was, packing a bag for the journey and time I would be spending at the strongest pack in the world, which was called the Stentorian Pack and was located deep in the mountains surrounded by forest.
My parents thought I had a chance, they’d told me what to eat, how to act, how to look all my life, needless to say it had gotten old pretty quick. All the lack of control I’d had over my life had boiled down to this day, it had all of been for this day. I had to be the most attractive, smartest, likeable… you get the idea, and I couldn’t help but feel inadequate.
“Carnet (kar-ney)! Time to go!” my mum yelled from downstairs. I groaned and folded the last piece of clothing I needed to pack before zipping up my suitcase. I set it down on the carpeted floor and began to roll it out of my bedroom, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the full length mirror and I slowed to a stop.
My pale skin glowed in the early morning light, completely blemish free, soft and hairless except for on my head. My eyes an unusual amber hue, something my parents had taken pride in, it made me unique in their eyes. They were large and framed by thick dark lashes, my full and arched brows perfect, not a hair out of place, my parents wouldn’t have it any other way. My hair was dark, almost black but not quite. The expensive products and washing gels made it as smooth as silk and it shone, not a split end in sight. It was longer than a man would usually have, just reaching my shoulders but a curly mess, well, a highly stilled curly mess. My lips were a soft pink, kept moist and velvety, deliciously plump my mum would say. My teeth were pearly white, my diet and strict mouth hygiene ensured that. My features we sweeping and elegant but in a masculine way, I’d never had stubble, I shaved every day, carefully, I couldn’t have cuts. I wasn’t allowed tattoos or piercings, no body modifications what so ever.
My strict workout routine combined with my diet meant I had virtually no excess body fat, I was toned but not overly muscular, the Alpha wouldn’t like that apparently. I was about average height at 5′10, medium build, size 7 feet. My nails were kept short but perfect, I got manicures and pedicures regularly, went to get waxed regularly, yeah, me and my mum had pamper days way too often.
My clothes were form fitting and flattered my body, in both colour and style. My tailored dark grey jeans were snug, my pale ankles getting shown off due to my black leather shoes, they were a little like creepers but the chunky sole wasn’t so thick. My shirt was a dark red with grey collar and rolled up short sleeve cuffs, the first few white buttons undone to expose a glimpse of my pale and hair free chest.
I was good looking, I knew that, I’ve been told that by my parents and many others all my life. I didn’t have the confident or vain personality though, despite all the complements, it just wasn’t me.
I sighed at my reflection before continuing on, pulling my suitcase behind me. Here goes nothing.