The Golden Daughter

(Mika Firethorn POV Made out of Adrenaline, Great Ideas, and Bad Decisions)            The pencil flew from my fingers, zipping down the bleachers. I wrenched my drawing out of the grasp of my sketchbook rings, shoving it into the abyss of my backpack. I glanced up in time to see my pencil as taken on a life of its own, narrowly missing a she-wolf's head.    She gasped pivoting to see who threw it. The giggling girls around her abruptly stopped their flirting and twisted to stare. They whispered and commented on my clothes and unruly hair compelling me to roll my eyes.    I was not a silly girl or girlfriend who watched the football team practice. The only reason why I was here was that I had to be.     My art teacher, Mrs. McClure wanted us to pencil sketch live-action sports drawings. They had to be turned in on Monday and the football team practice was the only one that didn't interfere with my own practice.     Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught dead anyway near the football team. So, I was stuck watching sweaty boys get slammed to the ground while they flirted with their giggling girlfriends with low cut tops and tight skinny jeans.     Mrs. McClure put me in advanced art classes this year which I instantly tried to get out of. I didn’t even want to do art that much; I just picked it so I wouldn’t have to do a Band.     Or Choir... I shuddered at the thought.     Art has always been a fun hobby not something I was forced to do for school. And I didn’t want that to change. I just wanted to wow all the beginner art students with my mad skills. I didn’t care if I improved or not.     When I told Mrs. McClure this she scowled and accused me of being the least ambitious teenager she had ever met. Which was kind of a b***h move and I basically said as much, getting me a one-way ticket to the principal's office.     I had ambition but I also had logic. Sure, I would love to be a professional artist but I had to be plain stupid to believe my mother would ever go for that.     Rain trickled down the cover of the bleachers while the cold wind ruffled my hair and rosy my cheeks. Even after drawing for an hour, the metal bench I was sitting on was still as cold as ice. I glanced down at my paint speckled shorts, regretting not checking the weather forecast this morning. I was officially freezing my ass off.     Why do football players have to play outside? I clutched my stomach trying to trap what little heat I had left. My fingers were numb so my drawings were little more than blurry smudges. Nothing was turning out the way I wanted, all because of the stupid cold. And it was only September!     I was a summer girl. I like the heat and wearing shorts outside without the following looks of judgment and questions. Thankfully, I was wearing thick socks so my toes were nice and toasty. However, I couldn’t say the same for my ears or nose.     The football players tried to run another play and I was surprised at the complexity of it. When out of nowhere the guy throwing the ball gets sacked, bringing back my distaste for football. I thought the Westview high school team was good. Or used to be good? I couldn’t remember. I don't tend to pay attention to sports I wasn’t participating in.     Suddenly the rain starts to pound the thin canopy overhead. I smiled devilishly as Coach Humphrey, the football, Track, and Health teacher forced his players to go back on to the field. He snaps at one of the new kids, a tall skinny boy that couldn’t be a grade older than Freshman.     His football pads made his shoulders bulge but paired with his skinny figure made he look almost skeletal. I could almost imagine the nerdy glasses he probably wore. He nervously shuffled over to Coach Humphrey his head bowed down as Coach Humphrey was seemingly unaware of how much spit came out of his mouth when he spoke.     As the Freshman scurried across the field Coach yelled something at him. He shoots him a thumbs up distracting him enough that he loses his footing on the slick turf. The girls in front of me gasp as I perk up grinning.     He frantically tries to catch himself, arms flailing like helicopter blades and feet skidding across the slick turf. Only to land hard on his back, the wind rushing out him. All the giggling she-wolves fall silent, holding their hands to their mouths in shock.     A giggle escapes my lips, cracking open the dam of laughter. The other guys on the field wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for my howl of laughter. A few snickered but instantly they were hushed, many of them aggressively whispering for them to shut up.     My laughter died out as I noticed the odd hush that fell over the field. It was nature's law to pick on the new kids, especially clumsy freshmen. But it was like everyone was afraid to even so much as say a foul word to this kid.     Then I heard the whispers;     “The Alpha is coming back...” The gossip buzzed around like bees on pollen high, darting across the field as fast as wind could carry it. I leaned forward trying to get a better scoop on what they were saying.     “Isn’t he only supposed to come back when he’s eighteen, though?” A short burly player askes. He was one of the guys slamming into the others. I focus on their conversation, forcing my Lupine hearing to the limit.     “I hear his pack wants to be a part of the peace treaty.” A short gasp escapes my mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Were they talking about my family's treaty? It has been almost twenty years since they made it. Why would someone want to join now?     And why was I the last to hear about it?     “What! That’s insane,” Another player turned mirroring my own shock. I vaguely recognized his voice from one of my classes but couldn’t place it with his face hidden in his helmet. “Aren’t they some kind of violent gang pack?” “Well s**t, isn’t their son a maniac or something? I heard he killed a kid!”     “Yeah, and he burnt down someone's house or something. But that’s just an Alpha for you…” The boy trailed off shrugging his shoulders. I scowled at them from my position on the bleachers. They were obviously unaware that someone with Alpha blood was in their mince. I also doubted he knew anything about having Alpha blood. The biggest instinct for an Alpha was to protect, our pack always comes first. It’s been drilled into my brother’s heads since birth.     Thus, into my head too.     “Well, s**t! We can’t mess with him!” A tall but skinny guy stepped forward bending his head down slightly to whisper to the huddle of gossiping football players. I distinctly remembered him being one of the guys snickering. However, that doesn’t answer the question as to why this freshman was suddenly immune to being picked on.     Was he a friend of this mysterious Alpha? Were they related!?! I doubted it, the Freshman just looked so...     Nerdy.     Though Katelyn, a fellow Alpha daughter was kind of nerdy. But she had this sexy librarian look to her. She was definitely the cute virgin nerd type who never said a foul word to anyone and was completely innocent.      Though I haven't had s*x either, despite what my reputation says. God, if Katelyn has s*x before me I was going to lose it.      But more importantly, who the hell was this Alpha? The only Alpha I knew were the ones already in the peace treaty. And their sons of course who were to become the future Alphas of their packs.     All of this sounded like a load of bullshit. Killing children? Burning down houses? What the hell was this guy supposed to be? He sounded like he came straight out of the Packs Reign of Terror.     For some reason, though I couldn’t discredit the rumors (Even when some sounded like absolute horse s**t). My family rarely told me any of the packed news until it was absolutely necessary. So I didn't know anything until the pack found out too. When I was younger it didn’t bother me but now I wish they just realized I wasn’t the little innocent girl anymore that definitely does not need protection.     Coach snaps at the players to get back to work, cutting off their whispering and from them spreading rumors about this mysterious Alpha. They quickly scramble to set up another play doomed to fail.     However I was done drawing the football players, it was too cold out anyway. I quickly grabbed my bag, stuffing my sketchbook into it as I hopped down the bleachers, passing the giggling she-wolf’s which I not-so-secretly flipped off.     Once again I was at my limit of expectation and disappointments for the day. From school, my family, and from my art. I quickly got in my little red Veloster waiting for me in the parking lot. Like a streak of red, I zoomed out of the parking lot.     By now my body knows where to go, almost like muscle memory. Downtown is the place I go to blow off steam. It was filled with abandoned buildings with kicked in doors and broken-down cars parked outside, lining the street with busted in windows and missing engines and any working parts that the scrappers could find.     It’s basically the only ruin left in the city. My father made quick work to refurbish the crippling buildings into stunning skyscrapers where Lupines came from across the world to this promised utopian city of peace and prosperity. Where they praised my father like he was some kind of god. Just thinking about it made me want to gag.     Don’t get me wrong I think the peace treaty and how the Royal packs united after the Packs Reign of Terror was great. Except everyone was too easy to forget that my father was one of the cruelest and most feared Alphas before...     Well, he met my mother.     It was all her idea for peace and the utopian city named Moonbright after her Royal family's name. It confused me every day when she never takes credit for even suggesting the idea to my father, her mate.     I sigh, not even caring to blink as I turned down an empty road lining the river shore that ran through the city splitting the city from Downtown. Every now and then I pass a homeless person but otherwise, it was perfectly abandoned. It gives me enough peace and space to work wherever I want.     I wasn’t the only one that took advantage of the space, though. Graffiti words were scribbled on the sides of buildings, stickers and paintings litter the area in a mix of patchwork artwork, peeling off the walls into nothingness.     That's the glory of this place, once you pour all your emotions into a piece it simply washes away or gets painted over. It’s the place I always go to make my feelings disappear. And right now, I really needed them gone before I got home and lashed out at my family.     I blame my mom that I never know what’s going on until the last minute. She thinks I’m too young and naive to understand what’s going on with my own pack. That I need the same filter they put before telling the rest of the packed news. Or they just don't tell them at all.     Suddenly I slam on the brake, a flash of red caught my eye. I shift to reverse and practically swoon. Free of any graffiti and displayed like a masterpiece for the entire world. A clear wall of red bricks with a faint imprint on the brick where a fire escape once lay. Now it lay fallen to the ground in a lump of metal, leaving the wall empty for anyone to take and mark as their own.     I instantly start exiting my car, when a fat water droplet hits my windshield. I growled, thrusting my car to a start. There was no way I was going to waste a precious space like that, just for it to be washed away. I know this was a place where emotions disappeared. But I want at least a good week or two before it could blow up for all I care!     Up ahead I spotted an overpass and slowed down. The overpass wasn’t clear like the redbricks with dark looping graffiti letters sprayed on the stone. However, it will give perfect coverage from the rain while I work.     I quickly got out of my little red car, popped my trunk, and heaving out a box of paint cans and spray paints. I snatch a bucket with different shapes and sizes of paintbrushes out next before slamming it shut.     I carefully selected a thick paintbrush and a few smaller ones for details, dumping a gallon of water into the bucket. I always keep a few handy in case I have to make a quick escape in the middle of a class to paint my worries away.     I was ready. I had my paint cans out and ready for use and my thick brush in hand, fully prepared to vandalize the crap out of this wall. But when I looked at the wall my mind was empty. I tapped my chin trying to spark some idea. I flicked on some music from my phone, hoping it will spark something.     Blank.     All of my emotions weren't fueling into an idea like usual. I turned to my car, spotting my sketchbook on the leather seat. Guess I’ll just have to borrow an idea. I got it out of the car, licking the tip of my finger so I could flip through it easily when I stopped.     I squealed when I saw the doodles from early today. Just the thought of using those bright colors had ideas buzzing around in my head. In History class Mrs. Kassey handed out highlighters that we were supposed to be used to mark passages about the great SouthClaw battles. However, once I started doodling with them I just couldn’t stop. My sketch page was so bright you could basically see it from space.     Let's just say it was I got my highlighter privileges revoked, bright.     I raced back to the wall pulling out paint cans and popping off spray paint lids. I dipped my first brush into the paint and let the world melt away.     - My hair tickled my face and when I flicked it out of my face it left an irritating itch in its place. I tried to inch it with the back of my hand but it only made it worse. I had black paint speckled with bright pinks and blues on my face, hair, and in my clothes. I was covered in so much paint I could practically taste it.     So I caved and just scratched my cheek smudging more paint on my face. I picked up a tiny brush dipping it in my giant can of white paint before adding the last details to my work. I highlighted bubbles, making the colors pop with that last bit of fresh paint.     In History class Mrs. Kassey said something that reminded me of jellyfish and with the highlighters, it just clicked. Soon I had a fleet of jellyfish covering my paper, spilling off the page onto the book Mrs. Kassey handed out, jellyfish dancing between the lines of words. I had to rush out of class before Mrs. Kassey realized I had vandalized one of her precious history books.     This painting however wasn’t my thoughts running out of control. I made the lines of marching jellyfish neater more concise. Instead of thoughts, my emotions ran over the wall, flashes of bright colors fought with each other in deadly battles their only reprieve was the clear bubbles refracted their glow.     I sighed slumping against my car. My back hurt and my shoulders ached but it was aching of relief. Like the burden has finally been lifted off. Almost like when Lupines shift, your bones c***k and break but afterward, it’s this kind of delicious soreness as you uncage your wild beast. Sadly this aching feeling will fade the same as that addicting soreness after shifting and soon you’ll have to do it again.     I admired my work for a moment, spotting mistakes I was too lazy to fix. I was already bunding up my emotions again and it took too much effort to let them out just to correct a few mishaps. Besides, I loved it when my art wasn’t perfect.     I loved the wobbly lines that you can’t notice from far away but when you get closer you realize my paintings are their own echo system with dots and colors that aren't perfect on their own but together they look beautiful.     I tapped my paintbrush on my thigh, humming to the song that just came on. Almost like a magnet drawing me back to my burdens I glance down at the mess I made. There was so much paint on the ground it could have made its own abstract painting. Empty and full cans of spray paint littered the ground while brushes with dried paint on them were stuck to leaves.     That was going to be a pain in the ass to clean.     I had a habit of just tossing things once I was done with them. My room was very similar, constantly a mess, clothes and half-finished painting lying around. Nothing tucked away so it’s all out in the open and easy to find. Like a bomb went off. Just the way I like it.     Halfway through my thoughts, I smelt something. It was delicious my Lupine senses instantly locking onto it the second it hit my nose. I couldn't get enough. And for the first time in my life, I felt my wolf trashing against my grip.     My wolf was very calm and mellow. The exact opposite of me. Sometimes I can barely even feel her just a slight pressure of her presence in the back of my mind. I heard people named their wolves or they even could talk to them but this is the closest my wolf and I have come to interact with each other.     I felt her howl growling thrusting against my bonds causing me to yelp when a sharp pain shot through my skull. She's definitely never done that. I immediately went rigid, frantically inhaling my as my eyes darted around to find its source. I stumbled over paint cans and tripped on a brush, but the world around me disappeared.     The smell had this warmth that just wrapped around me, heating my cheeks even against the unforgiving wind. Like when you open an oven and the heat just wafts toward you mixing with the smells of whatever baked goods you’re making.     Cinnamon rolls…     Yes, It smells exactly like Cinnamon rolls! mixed in with the frosty scent of pine. There must be a new bakery around. Maybe they are finally fixing up the downtown ruin? Whatever this place is it will definitely bring in tons of business.     I step out from under the safety of the overpast, rain pouring from the sky, melting the paint off my clothes. I sigh in content inhaling the fresh rain smell and whatever this delicious mystery was. I had to find this scent-     Bring...     I ignored the first ring, hoping I just imagined it but then it happened again. The scent it smelled... so good...     “What!” I growled into the phone, my voice reaching an octave lower than I knew I was capital of.     “Gee thanks sis, nice to see you too.” Caden, my brother, and fellow triplet voice filled my ears. I instantly reigned back snark, just a little. I catch one last whiff of the infatuating smell then it disappears in the wind, the rain washing it away. Damnit, Caden!     “What do you want?” I snap at the phone.     “I want you to tell me you're just around the block to pick us up?” He asks hopefully, that’s when it clicks. I forgot to get him and Greyson…     The intoxicating scent was forgotten, quickly hanging up the phone, I start piling my paints and brushes back into my car. Oh, my goddess! I can’t believe I forgot them! I even ignored the question hanging in the back of my head;   Why did my wolf react like that?