The Alpha’s Human Surrogate

Chapter 4 - Third Selection

Erin’s POV

Two months before selection day, my Mother developed a terrible chest infection, homely remedies given by her friends just couldn’t shift it. We had to purchase medicine from the wolves for a total of 10 slips. I found it absolutely ludicrous, but Mother needed them and we didn’t have a choice. I’ve taken all the additional slips in my name, so Cait will only have one entry. I didn’t think it fair to increase her odds so drastically in her first year.

Under my Dad’s instruction and guidance I have managed to extend our greenhouses and turn some new plots to begin our new harvests. By the time the next crops are ready, we should be able to begin generating income again.

Cait has been true to her word and is the perfect slave to the wolves while in public, though we have become her sounding board to vent her frustrations. I dread to think what would happen if she was to be overheard. Even the thought of it makes me shudder.

The next class after our crops were destroyed, I found Mrs Davies and begged her to let me read the journals of our ancestors. Each evening I’ve studied them by candle light, making notes on anything I think will help. The lack of sleep is probably killing me slowly, but what choice do I have?

Especially when after reading my fifteenth journal, I’ve found some important information that seems to have been forgotten. I’m not sure how much of it will help, but I’m going to make sure I never forget it. And secretly I promise myself that one way or another, I will save my family.

Cait and I have increased our training, we run every other day and spar for 90 minutes. On the alternate days we spar and perform our kata twice a day. I just hope that it’ll be enough for whatever may happen should one of us be selected.

******

The day of selection is once again upon us. Again, we train as soon as we wake and then fertilise the soil so Mother can begin planting. I know we shouldn’t and that it’s forbidden, but I have to make sure my family is ahead. I’ve left an envelope under Mother’s pillow with some cash that I’ve kept aside. Should the worst happen, they’ll be able to buy what they need for a little while.

“I can’t believe you haven’t let me take any slips. You have 70 to your name, I don’t like those odds Erin,” Cait grumbles as she exits the bathroom.

“Give over. That’s the norm for most people my age. It’ll even the odds. Can you choose the dresses while I wash my hair?” I ask her, heading to the bathroom and not awaiting her reply. I can’t argue with her.

A part of me has chosen to take the slips to test Cait’s theory at last selection. She been problematic, but only has one slip. What’s the chances she’s selected? Luckily I’m prepared. I found a loophole in one of the journals to protect her.

“Erin, you HAVE to wear this one. It’s like it was made for you,” Cait gushes, swishing the fabric of the dress in front of my face as soon as I walk out of the bathroom.

“I can’t see it when you do that,” I grumble, knocking it out of my way. “Besides, you’re going to get it wet and then I won’t be able to wear it, even if I do like it.”

“Stop being a grump. If we’re going to be forced into attending, we may as well do it in style. Come look,” she squeals as she takes my hand.

Clutching the towel against my chest, I let her drag me to the living room, where every surface is covered in dresses, shawls and shoes. “Did you empty the entire damn case?” I ask her.

“Of course,” she giggles. “Try it on,” she demands, once again wafting the fabric at me.

I take the dress enthusiastically and head to my room, her excitement is too infectious to not get caught up in the enjoyment of dresses and shoes. I quickly dry my body and put on my underwear, before slipping the dress on. The lightweight chiffon fits like a glove, as I turn to the mirror my breath catches. The dress is bronze in colour, and the light dances from it as I move. But that isn’t what has me breathless, it’s the way the bronze contrasts with my green eyes. They look brighter, more vivid with multiple shades of green visible. Once my hair is done, I dare say I will look elegant and beautiful.

“Cait.. .. Mum..” I call for their attention from my bedroom doorway.

“My god! Erin. I know just what to do with your hair. Come sit,” my Mother instructs me and I sit at the kitchen table waiting patiently as she works her magic. “Cait bring her mirror,” my Mother adds.

When she tells me to look, I gasp. She’s styled my hair in what should be a basic chignon, but there are loose twists running down the sides of my hair into the twist. There are soft and loose curls delicately and strategically placed that appear to have fallen from the hair style. I look like me, but I don’t. It’s unbelievable. I match my outfit with a pair of beige wedges and a simple bracelet that Cait made when we were younger.

I sit with my Dad and straighten his tie as Cait chooses a mint green floaty dress with white sand shoes. She looks like Cinderella and I’m envious of how perfect she is.

Before we know it, we are once again at the selection ground. I no longer pay attention to the crowd on the bus, nor the claustrophobic sensation of being bundled into our chained areas. The only thing that concerns me, is my sister, who is now amongst the selection group. I pray for a miracle. For her to never be selected.

We impatiently wait while Beat Daniel follows his usual selection day routine. We aren’t here for the speeches or theatrics. We just want to go home.I find my foot bobbing up and down as the moment we’ve been waiting for arrives.

“Emily Ashby.”

Silence.

“Bronwynne Allinson.”

“Claire Dickinson.”

In my mind I don’t hear the names, I’m counting. One name.. .. two names.. .. three name.. .. four names. As I count higher, I find myself able to breathe more easily. With each name, with each count, there’s one less chance for myself or Cait to be chosen.

17 names.. .. 18 names.. .. 19 names.. .. 20 names.. .. ..

Wait.

What did he just say? I replay his words in my head. I replay the name that went with the twentieth count.

“CAITLIN ANDERSON,” Beta Daniel’s voice booms.

Cait has been selected.

My baby sister has been selected.