Sharp Edges

The Odds are Not in My Favor

Fifth year in Jasper…

I have been in Jasper for five years. I have made a home in this tiny town. It was originally nothing more than a random spot on a map that I chose with a red pin and closed eyes. The intention was for it to be a temporary stop along the way to a more permanent escape from my past. When I pulled into town, I had no idea that Jasper would become everything I had been searching for, and more. I have been a werewolf shifter for three years. An unforeseen twist, gift rapped with a big blue bow. If you have been keeping up so far, you’ll see what I did there. If not, let me catch you up. When I shifted for the first time my eyes changed as well. From boring brown to brilliant blue. Another unforeseen twist, giving me the strength and power of an alpha female.

So far, being an alpha female has differed little from being a normal female werewolf. I had done nothing special to earn the position aside from apparently having good genes. Unfortunately, where I am concerned, God has always had a sick sense of humor.

“Skye? Did you hear what I said?” Jules calls snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I heard her, but she had to be joking. Apparently, every seven years there is a mating game. In the game all the eligible shifters, who are seeking a mate, play a game of tag. The women run into the woods first and then the men chase after them. When a male catches a female, they mate in wolf form, sealing their bond. In a supernatural society where women hold most of the power in choosing s****l partners, this is meant to balance the scales a bit.  The idea is that men can prove their abilities and claim a mate that may not otherwise give him the time of day. This game is mostly optional amongst the shifter population. The key word there being mostly. The exception…? Alpha females. Our attendance is mandatory.

Every male shifter is instinctually driven to mate and produce offspring to further their line. The stronger the female, the stronger the offspring. So basically, what Jules just told me is that I am going to be forced to play a game where every single male in attendance will be chasing me down like pray and I only have two options. Get caught and mate with the stranger that catches me, or avoid being caught.

Lovely.

“Skye?” Jules asks again.

“What? Sorry I heard you. I am just processing.” I reply.

“Zack is beyond livid. There are so few alpha females that he was not even aware of the rule until one of the Elders got in contact with him. Since he created you, it falls on Zack to make sure you participate. If you do not, he will be punished.” Jules says with a sigh.

“Where is he?” I ask her.

“In the woods running off some of his anger.” She answers.

“How long do I have…” I ask. “…until the games I mean?”

“Two weeks.”

“Well fuck... I have only been a werewolf for three years. You said most of the men who go to the games are older… ready to settle down and start a family…” I pause, cringing.

Family… Emotional commitment… Those are things I put away a long time ago. Life is literally playing a cruel joke on me. It must be. There is no other way to explain that the one thing I would be most opposed to is the thing I am going to have to face head on.

…I continue, “How am I supposed to outsmart and out run wolves with two or three times the experience in their wolf form? And what happens when one of those guys inevitably catches me?! You have seen how I get in wolf form. I don’t know how to make that side of me submit to anyone…especially a stranger.” I finish in a huff.

“That’s just it. You have to participate, but you only have to mate with one of the other contestants if they can make your wolf submit.” Jules informs me.

“I obviously plan to do everything in my power to avoid being caught, but if I fail… I feel bad for my captor.” I state shaking my head.

In the last three years my wolf has taken over more than once. It takes a combination of Jules, Zack, and some sheer determination on my part to rein her back in. The only way to describe it is to imagine if you were speeding down a freeway only to have the steering wheel disappear from your hands. I know my wolf is part of me… That she acts on instincts and emotions embedded deep within my subconsciousness, but the human side of me is the side that applies logic and reason to those actions. I have been working tirelessly to balance both sides of myself, but I have a feeling during the stress of the games, and what the consequences could be, I might not be in control of the scales.

“Skye, you are strong, and fast, but most importantly you are resourceful. If I had to bet, my money is on none of them even being able to catch you.” Jules tells me encouragingly.

“The game itself might be fun if the end result was not meant to force me to mate and produce children for a stranger.” I state.

“Obviously, Zack and I have never participated… but Zacks parents met through the games. It is a sore subject for him, but I am sure he will use what he learned from them to help prepare you.” Jules says.

In the time that I have know Jules and Zack, Zack’s parents have only been mentioned a handful of times. From what I have gathered, his parents were murdered when he was sixteen and then he was a lone wolf until Jules went through the transformation and joined his pack. Jules felt that it was not her place to tell me what happened and because I couldn’t bare to see him in pain, I had avoided asking Zack. I had gotten glimpses of his past from the occasional story, but they were few and far between. I understand, more than most, the weight of a painful past. I lost my parents and little brother in a car accident when I was eighteen. Jaxon was the only thing that kept the grief from consuming me… and then I lost him too.

“Is two weeks enough time to prepare?” I ask Jules.

“It will have to be...” She answers with a sigh.

“And may the odds be ever in your favor…” I reply, quoting Effie from the Hunger Games, sarcastically.

“Not funny.” Jules replies, rolling her eyes at me.

“Until I get through this you should expect my gallows humor to be in full swing.” I inform her. A smile forms on my lips due to the unintentional irony of the phrase.

“Only you, Skye Coleman, would joke your way through something like this.” She says, tossing her hands in the air.

Shrugging I reply, “Well, since my life seems to be the punch line to a cruel joke… the method of coping seems fitting. Doesn’t it?”