The Forbidden Mark

"The Talk"

The overwhelming thrum of indulating teens, congregated in a circular pattern around Mrs. Janson had everyone abuzz with excitement over this classes main topic. All 29 of us sweaty, hyper, jittery and nervous teenagers waited with baited breath to receive the traditional adolescent "talk" that most parents loath to try and explain in any manner that even half resembles seriousness without the red faces and stuttering explanations that has always gone with the territory.

The only thing was, today wasn't just about 'who puts what where and std's shared, along with the feelings and possible babies.' No, today had an extra layer of delicious information not normally touted about in public groups. More specifically about the extra layer that is mating and receiving your mark to those that were presented with the lycanthropic genes. It's an open secret that everyone knows but is too uncomfortable and in most cases, down right afraid to talk about; like politics and religion, makes everyone instantly jump at each other's throats.

"Everyone, listen up! Everyone..." The simpering giggles and murmering quickly dissipated as Mrs. Janson reigned in everyone's attention. It helps being the Alpha's wife when it comes to controlling your packs' juvenile population.

"Alright, I'd like to get started everyone. The faster we get this done, the faster we can get out of here... Janie!" She indicated to the back projection area, resulting in large images of medical penal and vaginal diagrams and drawings being strewn across one wall. Jeers and a collective quiet groan came from the croud as the teacher quickly and decisively explained how s**t works and how not to f*ck things up.

Red faced and conjointly silent, the crowd and instructor took a moment to compose themselves. Boys cleared their throats at the image of an infected member, and the girls nearly swooned at the images of a chick with the clap. Funny, but nothing new to those who've already had 'The Talk' with a parent. Not to mention anyone with access to Google.

After a good chunk of time, Mrs. Janson swiftly clapped her hands and the slides vanished to everyone's heaping relief.

"It is no different for any of those with the Lycanthropic gene, than to any other normal homo sapien. The process is practically the same, as are the diseases. However there is another couple of processes in the copulation act that will only effect you. Namely, that you are more fertile when you 'do the dirty' with one that you are more aligned with when you receive your mark. Also, that gestation is halved for those that carry a double gened fetus, which you should know from Bio 55. Alright, any questions so far?"

The notorious class premadonna's hand rocketed above the crowd, coating everyone with holier-than-though-arn't vibrations radiating off the girl, her snooty smirk irking everyone around her, even the teacheras she motioned the girl to continue.

"Can you explain more bout the marking process when it comes to seexxx? what if you aren't marked yet or, like, are matched with more than one kind of guy-"

"The marking that you receive from the Goddess classifies where you will be most useful in the pack and if your chosen mate is genuinely compatible with you." The teacher reiterated, trying ever so hard to not roll her eyes at the obvious skankiness of the inquiry.

"I would try not to shop around too much miss. Any other questions?"

Snickers arose from the gangle of adolescents for a few moments before a male voice shot out from the crowd,

"So how does the matching up come in to play? Does, like, everyone just show each other their marks and we, like, match up or somethin? How do we know?"

"Ah yes, well, a true mate's touch is electrifying. Both figuratively and literally. Which in and of itself is worth waiting for if you can manage... Certain marks go well together, while others shouldn't be in the same room. It's mostly instinctual so I wouldn't worry too hard. The Goddess Provides..."

Another hand shoots up from the pack. " Where do you get the marks?" Asks one of the quiet girls I recognize from class.

"Excellent question! Each separate location on the body is an indication of where in the pack you will be placed. Arms for Alpha's and Luna's, Fore-arms For Beta's, Back for Gammas, hands for Omegas and legs for non-shifters."

The teens instantly began muttering amongst themselves in excitement at the prospects, hopes and affirmations of what Mrs. Janson had said. Some had the impression that an alpha couple produces a baby alpha pup, boy were they wrong. I was living proof to that. Alphas had certain characteristics that someone like me would never match to. Pretty sure the first years of my life, my very dominant, very alpha parents wanted to change me in with someone more personable and not as weird as what their two asses created together.

Genetics are weird.

"Anything else?" The teachers voice rang out through the room.

A few moments crawled past as the crowd remained deathly silent, waiting to be set free. Most really didn't give two shits about mating and junk, It was all kinda obvious and you get told what your mark does by the councelor when the time comes. No to mention it was kind of illegal to do 'the pelvic peanuckle' before you were 18 anyway, though most would do anything and everything but anyways. then there was the graduation ceremony, both for school and the introduction of becoming one with the pack and an independant in the world. Learning your job and all that jazz.

It was all a bunch of crazy s**t that I really didn't give one iota of energy towards. I already knew my place, even without a stupid little tattoo to firmly plant me into permanency along side the bottom of the bottom. Hell, I guess even fast food workers technically help run a business. A very important establishment of quick calories and clogged arteries, we keep the Healthcare industry flush with bodies.

"Class dismissed, and don't forget to turn in your papers on healthy eating! Due Monday, DON'T FORGET!"

Everyone quickly flooded into the hall as the bell sounded for the end of last period. My little group and myself vacated straight to our lockers, way on the other side of the school, yammering about all the gross stuff we've seen and heard gossiping around Collonial High. All that fascinatingly dirty stuff that you really wanna look away from, but just can't pry your eyes off the screen. Testicular Elephantitis anyone?

Hurriedly I got my things organized and packed for a long weekend of writing and editing a 3000 word essay on hot and steamy wolf s*x. as if I would know. absentmindedly I grabbed my purse and bid my peeps a final fairwell. Life is decidedly lame and very quiet when you live 1/2 an hour from civilization with no means of commute except the 'great yellow dilos' that everyone just loves to peices.

Patiently I walked, weaving around the crowd of onlookers. I still to this day do not know why so many non bussing kids had to be there with the rest of us. Was it to annoy me? I don't doubt it.

I snake around a pack of particularly giggly powder-caked, flippantly b*tchy, glitzy girls, ogling over another pack of muscular go-get'er, pretty face toms, when my life is about to begin to implode.

I collapse to the ground. Full out damn near scorpion myself in front of everyone who can and will gossip about anything and everyone. Took me a couple seconds to figure out what the ever living hell happened. Don't think the chicks tripped me. No one pushed me, or threw s**t at me, or cast a freaking spell. Didn't do it to myself, so I was left with a freak accident and an unexplained phantom aching pain radiating over my chest, shoulders and back. What the s**t.

Attempting to seem unphased, I picked my sorry-assed bones back up off the grass and leisurely walked towards my mandated means of mobility. All the while with half my age pack uproarious laughing at me. Yeah f*ck all you too.

Even with my eyes averted, I couldn't help but notice a pair of solid, unhumerous eyes following me as I strode passed. Unsettling spring green eyes piercing through me, questioning and knowing all at the same time. Though there was a small smile on his face, it didn't reach those eyes as they bore into my consciousness. Even though he had quite the group of friends, I knew Jack was still the odd one out. Even as a kid in elementary he always seemed to have that air of eerie mystery clinging to him. A little out of place, but still enough of a Tom to be in the 'it' pack.

I rubbed at the ache in my chest as I unflinchingly stared back at those green eyes, never wavering as the bus began to pull away. Hell, I don't know why, but if anyone knew how to cast some magic on someone it would be someone in possession of eyes like that.

Eyes that can mark your soul.