True Love Or just a bet

12:00 a.m.

My phone starts buzzing with messages and notifications from my friends and family all probably saying some variation of "Happy birthday, Alaina!"

I flop back against my pillow and squeeze my eyes shut.

I'm eighteen now. I can't believe it.

Don't be mistaken: I'm not excited. Oh no.

This is the day my life officially comes to an end. For a lot of kids this is the day they've been waiting for, but not me. In my family, once you turn eighteen, you have to get married.

My family is definitely not what you'd call "normal" or "typical".

We're werewolves.

I'm sure you're probably imagining some super cool scenario where we change against our will at the full moon and go crazy and lose our sense of who are...but no. That's not how it works.

We change whenever we want and still keep ahold of who we are (which is much better, trust me). We have powers too (wolf-like powers) and we control those too; honestly, being a werewolf is pretty great most of the time.

Except for this one little tiny fact that my parents have been shoving down my throat for the past year: at eighteen a werewolf must be ready to mate, marry, and breed.

I think it's because I'm the youngest that this is such a big deal. If my sisters hadn't been ready to get married EXACTLY on their eighteenth birthday, I bet my parents would've been okay with me being the same way....possibly.

But my sisters got married right away, and they have beautiful families now (which they started right away).

I'm not saying I don't want to get married. I just don't want to get married right now.

And that's what my parents can't seem to understand. Or what they're not willing to understand. Either way it's caused a big problem and for the past, eh, six months or so we haven't been on the best of terms.

Now I'm dreading actually having to get up and face them. I've got approximately seven more hours before I have to face them which seems like a lifetime, but I'm willing to wait.

I remember on each of my sisters birthdays (which happened to be their wedding day also) I remember having so much fun. We all got ready for the wedding, my sister got married and then we all danced and ate and generally partied all day and night. Even shy little me-at the time-had a blast on the dance floor.

I guess I always thought my birthday would be like that too. Until the time came to actually do it.

I look over at the clock: 5:00.

Good enough.

I rub my eyes a couple of times and let out a loud (slightly exaggerated) sigh. Then I swing my legs over the side of my bed, stand up and stretch; I walk across the room and flip on the light.

I look around my room, which is a mess like usual. Werewolves are generally messy...and also I was being a rebellious teenager but that's besides the point.

My room is pretty small, but honestly I love it.

The walls are painted blue and yellow, and theirs a desk in the corner, a closet on the opposite wall no a secret door in the back of my closet that opens up into a secret little room. In that room I keep all my art stuff.

Drawing and art is my getaway, my relief. I took up art when I was ten and eight years later, I still go in that room and paint to draw for hours at a time.

I throw on some clothes and run a brush through my hair.

I let out another sigh. I go around, slowly picking up each item that's out of place in my room, about to put it away, before I decide to just drop it back down on the floor.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am completely depressed.

My phones begins buzzing again with a new round of messages. I ignore this one too.

It's a good thing I do, because just then my mom calls me.

"Alaina!"

I look at the clock. It's only seven in the morning! I didn't actually expect them to be up already!

"Yes?" I call back.

I surprised myself: I didn't sound bitter at all. In fact, I'd say I sound pleasant.

"Come down here sweetie!"

I can't help but groan. I don't think I'll be able to sound pleasant for very much longer.

"Yes?" I'm standing in the doorway of our living room now, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Come sit, hunny," my mom says with a smile.

I can tell it's coming. Insert crying sounds here.

My eyebrows arch as I slowly make my way into the room and sit down in a chair opposite my parents.

My dad is the alpha male and leader of our pack, which makes him kinda like a king-for lack of a better description. Our house, as a result, is huge and extremely well furnished and decorated. It's like one of those houses where everything looks so good that you're afraid to do anything in the house because you might mess it up. It really doesn't feel very lovable.

"How are you today, Alaina?" My dad asks.

Well. This is new.

"Um, fine..."

"Good."

"We got you a little something for your birthday!" my mom said, her face bursting with excitement.

Which is a good thing, because she can be excited enough for the both of us.

My mom gives this half excited squeal half giggle sort of noise (that makes both my dad and I raise an eyebrow) and then she hurries over to the mantel. When she comes back over to me, she has a small red box in her hand with a red bow on top.

I take it from her and glance at the label on it: happy birthday to our darling daughter, Alaina.

I can't help but snort. What happened to the six months of yelling at each other? Were we all just gonna forget they happened?

I look up at my parents, the present unopened still. "Ok, what's going on?"

"What do you mean, Alaina?" My dad asks.

"All this," I wave my hand that's still holding the unopened present around at the three of us.

"Dad, when was the last time you wanted or cared to know 'how I was doing'? And mom, I haven't seen you this happy all year. Something is going on. What is it?"

"It's your birthday, dear," my mom said, sounding confused.

As if I didn't know. I've only been dreading this day for a solid year.

I really don't need reminding.

"I KNOW it's my birthday!" I said. "I'm just confused as to why all of a sudden you feel the need to beat around the bush."

"Alaina, what are you talking about," my dad said, finally growing impatient.

"I'm talking about how you two are clearly avoiding the subject that we all know you want to talk to me about! Just say it, for gods sake!"

My dad frowned at me and opened his mouth to speak, but my mom stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Sweetheart, you know we love you right? And we-"

"There's no reason why you shouldn't have found a mate by now," my dad interrupts.

Clearly he was done with being sympathetic and beating around the bush. "By the time your sisters were this age they were already on their honeymoon!"

"Oh please," I scoff.

"I'm tired of your sarcastic comments and overall sass about this whole matter," my dad continued. "This is serious, Alaina."

"I know it is! That's exactly what I've been trying to say this whole time! No one should have to make this important of a decision unless they're ready to. I'm definitely not ready! I need more time, LOTS more time! I can't just-"

My dad was clearly mad now. He hates backtalk and I should've known better. But I was even more mad then he was.

"Seeing as how you're not obeying me-and haven't been for the past year-it appears that I will just have to show you just how important this is!" My dad boomed.

"Dad, I already told you, I know how serious this is!" I plead. "That's not the issue here! The issue is, I need you to stop treating me like a little kid and let me make my own decisions! Yes, I'm your daughter and I respect you, but I'm done letting you boss me around and tell me how to do every little thing."

I stand up, shaking with anger and defiance, fists clenched tightly. "I'm not taking orders from you anymore!"

"Oh yes you are!" My dad yells. "You will not talk to me like that young lady! You will do as your told and that's final! Now sit yourself back down and listen to me!"

My dad and I stare at each other, both with fierce glares on our faces, both of us fuming. This stare off could last awhile. My dad is extremely stubborn and I get mine from him.

My mom knows this and steps between us. "Alright. This is good. We've gotten that out of system. So, why don't we all sit down and continue civilly."

Reluctantly, my dad and I sit down in chairs and my mom sits on the couch. "Now, Steven, would you like to explain to Alaina what is so serious about all this?"

"But I already-"

"Alaina." My mom gives me a warning look.

"Fine."

“Alaina, since you don’t want to listen to a thing I am saying, you’re going to be taught right now just how important this is to our family.”

My dad snapped his fingers and a servant poked his head into the living room. My dad gave him a nod and the servant rushed out.

I try to plead with him again. “But dad-“

“I won’t have a daughter of mine disobey me ,” my dad interrupts. “And that’s final.”

Just then the servant comes back in, ushering six men around my age into the room . There’s no denying that all of them are good looking and their smiles seem sincere but there is no way this is happening right now.

“ Dad, no, please, this is crazy! I’m not just going to pick one of these guys and marry them right on the spot!”

“Oh yes you are!” My dad says firmly. “ All six of them are from esteemed families. And as you can see, they’re a’’ quite eligible and attractive.” I looked to my mom with fear and pleading in my eyes, but my dad snapped his fingers, bringing my attention back to him. “ Were going to settle all this right now. Alaina. Choose one of these men. NOW. Then you will marry, mate, conceive-“

“No! Dad, I just can’t-“

“-and most importantly,” my dad continued, raising his voice so he could be heard over me, “you will save our pack-“

But I raised my voice to be louder then him. “I’m telling you, this isn’t happening-!”

“ALAINA, ENOUGH!” My dad yelled

I clamped my mouth shut, though I still had several more things I wanted to say. The six young men stiffened but looked at my dad hoping for a sign of approval.

The servant scurried out of the room, My mother stood up, ready to defend me now.

“Steven, dear,” my mom tried.

“Not now, Miranda!” He turned back to me. “I don’t want to hear another word about this nonsense of you not being ready. Or so help me I will take you to a hypnotist!” I gasp and my mother cried ‘Steven!’

“I mean it! I’ll do it!”

Tears started to fill my eyes. I tried to keep them down, but I couldn’t.

I looked up at my father, hoping he’d start to feel guilty or something. But he wasn’t even looking at me; he was gesturing the six guys to come closer ( to meet me i’m assuming). I look at each of them. All six still had smiles plastered to their face, but one of them winked and I felt my stomach flip.

He has something planned. And if he did, then they all probably did.

“ You will learn right this second that you do not disappoint me,” my father said, bringing my attention back to him.

I tried for the last time, to plead with him. “ Dad, I'm not trying to disappoint you! I swear! I just- there’s gotta be a compromise or something!”

“ You had a whole year to think of a compromise, Alaina, and you didn’t! you just sulked and did nothing! So now, its not up to you.” My dad stepped to the side; the six men were in front of me now. “ We will begin the process right now Alaina. You will spend time alone with each of them and each will show and talk to you about how they’re good mates and such. And, by the end of the day, you will choose one of them as your mate with no excuses.”

That’s it. I’d had it.

There was nothing else I could say at this point to try to convince my dad. And nothing my mom tried worked either. There was nothing left for me to do.

Except to get up and leave.

I stood up, shaking slightly in my anger ( and fear, to be honest) and pushed past the six guys and my parents and marched towards the stairs.

Tears started to freely stream down my cheeks after I made it up three steps. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure my dad can be harsh, and he has a crazy temper , and he’s a bit of a major jerk…. And he doesn’t like compromising but still! I didn’t see this happening!

I guess I should’ve.

I felt my dads rough and calloused hand grip my wrist; he turned me to face him. “ You are not leaving that room, until you have chosen a mate!” My dad tugged my wrist and pulled me back down the stairs and back into the living room. “Now , sit DOWN!”

My dad practically throws me into a hard wooden chair and tightens his grip on my wrist so I won’t move. My hand starts going all tingly and back and bum hurt from being thrown down. The tears are falling faster now, until I can’t see hardly anything at all.

I’m hurting and completely terrified, but I know I have to do something. I start twisting my arm around and squirming in my chair. My dad grunts in an effort to keep a grip on me. I tug and twist and pull harder. Somehow , I manage to twist my arm out of my dads grip. I jump up from my seat and try to run away.

Buy my dad grabs my wrist again. I start to fight back like I did before. But before I really can, my dad raises a hand and smacks me across the face.

I wasn’t expecting this at all. My dads smack is so hard, my head flings to the side and I fall onto the ground. I sit there, breathing heavily staring at the floor. I can’t believe that just happened. My dad never has hit me before in his life.

I hear my mom gasp and the suitors murmur in what i’m assuming is surprise.

“See?” My dad says. I can pretty much hear him smiling. “it’s that simple.”

Who is he addressing? The suitors? Me? I have no idea, but I can feel my cheek beginningg to burn as his hand print is visible on my cheek and I know i’ll be crying again soon; I can’t stay in this room any longer.

I scramble to my feet and run from the room. I make it to the base of the stairs and I Start sobbing, but I don’t stop running.

“ALAINA!” My dad yells

“Steven!” My mom cries. “Let’s give her a few minutes, please! You’ve taken this too far now! I agree she needs to find a suitor today, but violence? To this degree?!”

“ Don’t try to reason with me, Miranda!”

I don’t hear the rest of their conversation, because I finally made it to my room. I slam the door and quickly lock it, then I run to my secret art room . I close and lock that door as well.

Then I sit on the floor, back up against the door, and sob. I’m sobbing so hard I’m shaking and I can barely breathe, but I can’t stop crying.

I let myself cry for a few more minutes. Then I take a deep shuddering breath and wipe my eyes.

When I look up, I see a brand new canvas on my easel; it’s still sitting there from last night, when I had wanted to paint but couldn’t think of anything. Now, though, painting seemed like the perfect way to help me calm down. I stood up and walked over. I selected my favorite paint brush and set to work.

Ideas flowed out of me like water from a faucet, but nothing I painted satisfied me. I went through five canvas’ before I threw my brush down and roughly rubbed my eyes.

I was still just as mad as before.

Which scared me, because painting always calmed me down. Well, almost always.

But then, I get this really crazy idea.

Based on how today has gone, you probably wouldn’t expect this, but i’m not the type of girl to just cause problems or do crazy, impulsive things.

But this idea I have is all of those things and more.

“What if…. what if I run away?’ I think to myself. The idea scares me, but not as much as staying here scares me.

I bite my lip and pace around my art room about fifteen times before I decide to just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen anyway? I won’t be gone long, just enough to get my thought together.

I unlock my art room door and walk out into my room, full of purpose. Right as I'm about to unlock my bedroom door I hesitate. What if it takes me longer than a few hours? What if it takes me longer than a day?

The way i’m feeling, this might take awhile.

I figure it can’t hurt to be prepared. So I pull my suitcase out from underneath my bed and throw clothes, my sketch book and drawing pencils ( and other sketching supplies) , chargers for my phone and laptop, and bathroom supplies. Then I pull my shoes on and grab my car keys.

Before I can leave, I get another idea.

I quickly open my phone and dial a number.

“OMG happy birthday , Alaina!” My best friend Stacey squeals as soon as she answers the phone.

“Thanks,” I whisper, “Look, I have a question.”

“OK, what’s up? Everything ok? And, uh why are you whispering?”

“I can't let my parents hear me.”

“What?”

“Long story. Look, I need time away from home. Can I come stay with you? I promise i’ll explain everything then.”

“Yeah , of course, no problem. Can I ask one question though?” Stacey pauses, but when I don’t respond , she just ask. “ How long do you need to be away from home?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes again. “Possibly forever. I just need a temporary place.”

“Ok, yeah, that’s totally fine.” Then Stacey perks up. “ This is gonna be so fun! It'll be like a long sleep ever! Oh! And we can celebrate your birthday when you get up here!”

I can’t help but smile. “OK, Stacey. I’m gonna get on the next flight, i’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hang up with Stacey and tiptoe out of my room, down the back staircase and out the back door. I quietly sneak around the house and get unto my car.

Once inside, I put my head down on the steering wheel and let out a long sigh.

This is absolutely crazy. I know I shouldn’t do this, but not doing this is worse. I take a deep breath and start my car.

Thirty minutes later, I’m at the airport. I park my car, grab my suitcase and walk towards the entrance.

I’m doing great, acting natural , walking with purpose, feeling great… right up until I get right inside the entrance.

‘What am I doing?!’ I think to myself. ‘I’ve never been on a plane before!’

I take a few deep breaths and remind myself why. i’m here.

Right. I got this.

“This is the start of a brand new life,” I mutter. “I can do this.”