The natural meaty smell of bacon hit my nostrils before I heard the sizzle of the meat hitting the pan. I blinked three times. My mind not yet awake but it seems my stomach has an agenda of its own. My tummy let out a low growl. I blinked three more times, then without any more hesitation threw my heavy comforter off of me and to the other side of the bed. My shoulder length dirty blonde hair stuck to the back of my neck because the mid-august heat and humidity was already at max for the day.

I pulled my phone off the end table I made out of four stacks of books I pushed together. Disconnecting my phone from the charger I looked at the time. Seven thirteen, and I already had a handful of text messages.

The first one from my brother Philip. ‘I won’t be able to make it today. To much to do. Sorry.’ Not much context, but I'm assuming he's talking about breakfast.

The rest from my best friend Zoe at various lengths. She had certainly over done it with the birthday wishes. She always over does it with everything though. A lot of people would call it a character flaw but it's one of my favorite things about her. While this character trait is enduring, and I care about her too much to tell her what I need to over a dumb text. I didn’t bother to text back. She’d be at the front door at eight just like every day anyway.

I tossed my phone on my bed and started to search a pile of clothes on my bedroom floor for something to wear. After tossing a few articles of clothing to the side I settled on a pair of high waisted denim shorts and a plain white tank top. I threw my hair up into a ponytail without peaking in the mirror. I am not motivated to look even the slightest bit attractive today. And looking in the mirror will make me want to try.

I slipped out my bedroom door, walked down the hall and the steps at the landing I took a left into our kitchen. The kitchen was small and cozy. Lots of cupboard space, not too much counter space, but we made it work. Mom sat at one of the two chairs at the kitchen island and dad hung out over the stove. Clearly the culprit that woke me up with the smell of bacon.

My mom’s grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed in a baggy T-shirt and some of my dad’s gym shorts. Her breasts unsupported, hung a little low. No bra. I was not embarrassed by this; it isn’t an unusual look for my mom. She typically looked comfortable first thing in the morning. My father always says, it's when she looks the most beautiful. She turned to me patting the chair next to her with a tight uneasy smile. “Payton come, have a seat.”

I reluctantly sat down, knowing what conversation we were about to have. The same one as last night. Dad handed me a cup of black coffee before turning back to the bacon. “I know you guys want to talk about it again." Mom’s smile dropped but only for a second. “The mating ritual. I told you I'm not interested. ” I turned 18 today. I was officially old enough for my parents to decide if I would participate in the mating ritual or not. At 19 it was required that I participate.

The mating ritual takes place on the full moon in august every year. Which happens to be tonight. If my parents decided I participate today. I may just be the youngest werewolf to ever participate, as most wolves participate at 19 and arn't lucky enough to turn 18 the day of the ritual.

“We don’t have much money.” Mom sighed. I understood. We aren’t necessarily rouges, but we also don’t belong to a pack. Mom and Dad’s pack was destroyed before I was born. They don’t talk about it much. But what I do know is they weren’t there that day. Instead of rejoining a pack, due to guilt they decided to stay packless and raise us in packless territory with humans. Humans are more voluntary to financial burdens. They don’t support each other like a werewolf community does.

Dad spared me a pitiful glance. “Payton, if you are mated to a high-ranking wolf you may be better off than staying with us. This would also relive a financial burden. It is worth a shot.” He reminded me as he pulled the bacon of the pan and separated it onto three different plates and passed them out.

“What is the likely hood I will be mated to a high-ranking wolf?” I asked. They both avoided eye contact at my question. “I haven’t even shifted yet…Or met my wolf.”

When werewolf is fully developed, they shift for the first time. I know I am werewolf because our senses and instincts develop as such, but we don’t shift until our bodies can absolutely handle it or unless it is necessary.

“Philip will be there. He will make sure you are safe.” Mom said. Philip joined the hunt last year. He found his mate, Millie, daughter of the gamma from halfmoon pack. It was kind of a blow for the family that she’d be mated to such a low ranked wolf, but they took him in as one of their own and have been training him. He found his niche, and now helps plan events for the Halfmoon pack. He barely shows his face around home anymore.

I nibble on the bacon from the plate. I sigh trying to come to terms with the fact I will be leaving my home today and quite possibly not coming back.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask us about the ritual?" Dad prompted.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. What do I really need to know about the mating ritual? I really got the jist of it. Many wolves show up to the same place and we find our mates and then party."

Mom paused mid bite, slowly swallowed and shook her head. "It's not necessary all that simple. There are some parts of the ritual that seem old fashioned. Maybe it's also time for the talk." She said.

"What talk?" I ask.

"The mating talk." Dad said point blank.

Loud knocking on the door saved me from this wonderful conversation. "I think I can figure it out." I said.

“Payton, it is eight o’clock. You have a lot to do today. Say goodbye to Zoe quickly.”

I nodded.

“Tell her anything but the truth.” Dad said sternly.

I nodded again and headed for the door.

"I'm so excited!" Zoe squealed as she twirled around my room before settling on my bed. " You are eighteen now! We can do eighteen year old things."

I purse my lips and scrunch my eyebrows. "Like what? Smoke cigarettes and gamble? Those aren't exactly things I've ever aspired to do."

Zoe crossed her legs. I couldn't help but notice her plaid pleated skirt inched up her thigh. She moved one of my fluffy pillows into her lap before her underwear managed to play peek-a-boo with her long brown hair that fell into her lap. She tilted her head to the side thinking. "Well...not exactly that." She frowned. "I was thinking we can now both go to Sal's now."

Sal's is one of two of the bars in town. The first bar was family friendly, this one was adult only and more of a club. Kind of sketchy. While they only serve 21 year old's. It's rumored the bar has cameras recording the dance floor being aired on the bar side of the club. It really feels like a good way to get yourself in trouble if you were looking for it. Zoe loved trouble though.

"I wish we could just stay home and just keep doing what we usually do. Homework." I said as I mess with the little bits of jewelry in I had in a blue ceramic bowl that was on my dresser next to my bed.

She laughed and bounced a little on my bed. "We need to get out and live a little. We can go out tomorrow and celebrate."

I rolled my eyes. "You just want want to see if that one guy is there again."

"Damen?" She asked a little too quickly "No way."

I didn't expect her to know his name. "You know his name finally? You spoke?"

She picked at the pillow sadly. " A little. He dropped his wallet. I looked at his I.D. before I returned it. I said 'here' and he said 'thanks'. And that was that. Off he went to where he came from."

I smiled gently. I don't like the way she is infatuated with this guy. He never did anything bad, but she always talks about him after she comes over the night after dancing. She is convinced he's there for her. Even though he has made no move to speak to her.

"Did you at least get an age?" I only ask because the way she described him he may be quite a bit older than her. I hope the age puts her off.

"Twenty six." She says with a grin as I gasp. "Come out with me, you'll see I'm not wrong, he's there for me. It's obvious."

"Well..." I start knowing I started this conversation by burring the lead. I'm going to try to keep things as close to the truth as I can. "Even if I could, I can't.

"Why not." She asked doubtfully.

"I'm supposed to meet my future husband tonight. I don't think I'm going to be able to come back, at least for a while." I kept my eyes down. I didn't want to see her face. The silence in the air was thick. I could smell her confusion. My gut pitted up. "It's an arranged marriage."

" You are joking, right?" She manages to strangle out. "It's a strange joke."

I sigh and look at her. "No, I'm not and I don't want to, but I have to.

Her face drops. She unbuttoned the top three of her shirt. Her chest is red and blotchy. "If this is for real, why wouldn't you tell me this sooner?"

" I didn't know." I said. "It's a family tradition. I thought I'd have a choice, they just sprung it on me."

She nods and speaks shortly with me, "You didn't know? Right. How convenient it is that you didn't know."

I go to the bed, sit next to her and place my hand on her knee, "Believe me?" I ask her.

"You are telling me that all these years you've never acted remotely interested in anyone romantically, always into homework more than making connections with people, that you knew nothing of this. Cause it kind of makes since why you never wanted to go on double dates with me now. You've been lying to me."

"I never met him. I had no idea my parents would want me to do this, let alone so young! And I have too been interested in people." I defend myself.

She shakes her head a little. " You would have told me."

I leaned in quickly and gently placed my lips on hers. Her lips tasted fruity, they were soft and warm, but uninviting. I broke away.

We stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably just a few seconds. "Right." She says as she gets up casually. "You can still come tomorrow if you'd like. We'll meet at my house at 9?

"Okay," I couldn't help my lip from trembling as she walked out my bedroom door. As soon as she was out of sight the hot tears fell down my cheeks. Nothing was going right. Eighteen seems like it won't be my year.