Moon Path

Alastair's long hair black completely obstructs his face as he scribbles away in his notebook. When I sit down next to him, I can't even see what he's working on so diligently due to the curtain of glossy hair. I know I'm staring, but I just can't help myself. So close to him I can see the way the lights refract off the rubies and sapphires studding his peaking ears. I can admire the several silver and gold rings adorning his long, delicate fingers that fly across the page. My heightened hearing can even pick up the steady drum of his heart. What is he doing here?

"Uh… isn't precalculus usually taken your junior year?" I ask lamely. Is it just me or did his heartbeat spike a little when I spoke?

Alastair looks up at me, seeming to see me for the first time. My breath catches as his vibrant purple, almond-shaped eyes meet mine. Goddess, he is beautiful. "Usually." He smirks with those plump, full lips.

"Then," I swallow thickly, still staring into his gorgeous eyes, which I notice for the first time are accented by a thin black edging of eyeliner. Does he wear mascara too, or are his lashes just naturally that long? "What, um, what are you doing in this class?"

"I like math." He shrugs as if that explains everything. "I took geometry and algebra II together last year, so now I'm here. Does that answer your question?"

I nod mutely, finally breaking eye contact. Now that his hair is not obstructing my view, I can see what he has been working on: music. His notebook appears to be filled with empty lines arranged in groups of five, and, scribbled across the page, are black markings I can't even begin to guess the meaning of. "What- what are you working on?" I gesture towards his notes.

He quickly slams the book closed, "Nothing." He chews on his lip nervously, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Sorry," I mumble. "I didn't mean to pry."

We fall into an awkward silence, but thankfully I'm saved from attempting small talk again by the start of class. I try to listen, but the entire lecture I am distracted with thoughts of Alastair. I am keenly aware of his presence next to me. He is left-handed, I realize. Our non-dominate arms are so close to each other on the desk, I imagine it wouldn't be hard to reach out and grab his hand. Our shoulders brush from time to time and I feel hot where we touch. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, but that was a mistake. His scent rams into me like a freight train: rain mixed with lavender. It's so intoxicating I hardly notice the growl that escapes my throat.

Alastair's eyes snap to mine, wide. "You're showing," he whispers, gesturing to my eyes. I flush, turning my face from him. I blink until the ice blue glow in my eyes, which signifies my wolf is fronting, fades.

Now I'm more distracted than ever, but not necessarily by Alastair. Or rather… not just because of him. I've never lost control like that before. I'm not some dominate wolf who is easily overcome by primal urges. Sure, I've got as many urges as the next hormonal teenager, but I've spent years suppressing my desires. I don't know what has gotten into me today, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to suppress unwanted thoughts. Like the thought of Alastair's deep violet gaze turned on me, full of want and need. I sigh. As nice as it would be to see his perfect composure completely undone, there is no way we could ever be together. For starters, he is not a werewolf, so he won't be my mate. Scratch that, he won't be anyone's mate.

See, witches and werewolves share many similarities, even compared to other supernaturals. We both prefer to settle near large forests and share an affinity for gathering in groups, with generations of families living in tight knit communities. Werewolves have the pack; witches: the coven.

But only werewolves have mates, given to us by the Moon Goddess. One soul, or rather one werewolf, who completes us perfectly. And on Sunday, I will discover who my mate is, assuming they live within a hundred-mile radius and are also already sixteen. Most wolves throw enormous parties when they turn sixteen and invite every unmated wolf in the state in the hopes of finding their one and only. That's how Oscar and Ashley met: at her sweet sixteenth. Even though everyone is convinced David and I are mates, I know my parents are still planning to invite all the neighboring packs to my "surprise party" on Sunday. I suppose if David isn't my mate or I don't meet him there, I'll be required to start going to sweet sixteen parties every few weeks. I'm not looking forward to that. I don't really like socializing with large groups of strangers. Hopefully, I find my mate on Sunday.

I trust that the Moon Goddess knows what she is doing and that I won't be disappointed in whoever is chosen, but I can't help but worry a little. All my life, I've been told what I'm supposed to be, what my role is. I'm a submissive and not just any submissive: an omega. I was blessed by the Moon Goddess with incredible fertility, destined to strengthen the next generation of the pack by bearing children, as many as possible for as long as possible. It's not that I am necessarily against having children per se, but the process… doesn't exactly appeal to me.

All my life I've been told that the Moon Goddess wants us to be happy and that's why she gave us distinct roles in the pack. Our roles, from the highest alpha to the lowest omega, gives us purpose. By accepting the Moon Path, we live up to our fullest potential and become joyful. Those who don't accept it become rogues, outcasts who inevitably go insane. So, I just have to trust that the Goddess knows what she is doing and that accepting her will as my own will make me happy.

But what if I'm not happy? What if after doing everything I'm supposed to do, I still feel this dissatisfaction, this… discomfort? What if there is something really wrong with me? A secret part of me is afraid to meet my mate. A secret part of me hopes I never do. Or at least for a few years. Maybe I could be like a normal human teenager for a few years and choose my own boyfriend. It didn't have to be Alastair. Maybe some human who didn't know I was an omega.

I risk a glance at Alastair and our eyes meet. He quickly looks away, a light blush darkening his freckles. Was he staring at me? Was he single? Did he even like men? His brow is slightly furrowed, and he is bent over his notes with one hand raised to temples, rubbing small circles in his forehead. Goddess, he looked cute when he blushed. Said blush spreads down his neck and up his ears. I shove down my wolf instincts, which are threatening to surface again.

When the final bell rings, signaling the end of school, Alastair makes a hasty escape away from me with a worried look on his face. David drives Ellie and I back to our house and I rush inside before he can ask me to hang out. After a whole summer of relative solitude, school was more than a little overwhelming, not even taking into consideration my run in with the coven. I need to be alone more than anything, so I spend a lazy, homework-free afternoon in my room listening to music before dinner and then my nightly after-hours excursion to the gym. Finally, I drift into a dreamless sleep, but not before remembering to set my alarm a little earlier in the morning to allow enough time for an extra long shower.