Mya: Night Chaser

I'm Dead

I took my time walking home. There was a back path through the woods no one went through. I was pretty certain no one remembered it anymore.

I glanced behind me and saw Natalie fold herself into the luxury car my parents bought for her on her sixteenth birthday. It was red and sleek and cost more than down payments on most homes. I wondered for a second as she screeched out of the parking lot what it would be like to drive. I would never have a car let alone a driver's license. After my change, I would never own anything at all. My whole life would be within the Pack House walls and ruled by the royal family. Even my name would change from Mya Adams to Maid Woodlands.

I walked through the woods and thought about that night. I took my time, counting every step because my freedom was sifting through the air like sands in the hands of children. I listened to the wind and the birds and smelled the springtime air. After I came inside from the Change, I'd never step outside again. The furthest I'd get from the front door of the Pack House would be to sweep the porch.

The air in my chest burst and I felt Patrick kissing my sister. They hadn't had s*x yet. That much I knew. I felt panic build up in my chest at the thought. I hoped he'd reject me before they did it. I heard a mate having s*x with someone who they weren't mated to was almost deadly. Although the pain was ebbing whenever they kissed, it was still there. Once the mating bond was broken, I would live as a shell of a person. Perfect for a maid in the Pack House. Nothing would matter other than the royals.

They liked it that way. A servant who had nothing would never hurt them.

"Mya!" my mother screamed as I neared the house.

Five steps. Four. Three. Two. One.

"Yes," I wiped off my feet and closed the door.

"There you are," my mother's voice grated on my nerves. Probably because Natalie looked and sounded just like her. I was an oddball who took after no one.

"Here," my mother clipped as she handed me a long list. I glanced down at them and felt my eyes widen at the long list of things to do on it.

"I need you to clean the house top to bottom," mother informed me as she pulled on a designer purse. "The Betas are coming tomorrow after Patrick rejects you."

I sucked in my lips and bit them as she so callously announced my mate rejected me.

"We're going to discuss wedding plans. Natalie's already seventeen. Patrick's sixteen. They'll be married on his eighteenth birthday. Only two years away," mother sounded extremely put out at the fact Patrick was younger than Natalie. "Big plans. Your father's paying, of course, and I want it to be perfect."

She turned to the hallway mirror and continued to beat me with her words, "Designer wedding. Only the best for the wife of a Beta. And with you went, we're out a housekeeper. I've interviewed dozens this past week. They all want highway robbery to clean a simple house!"

A simple house to my mother was the six-bedroom, four-bathroom monstrosity done in the style of an Italian villa. Only my mother's taste was incredibly tacky. Everything was bought because it looked expensive and not stylish. My mother thought she had good taste. What she really had was unlimited credit.

And highway robbery was hardly the case. My parents were rich but cheap when it came to anyone they had to pay. Plumbers were bickered with until they took half-payments just to get away from my father. Servers, hairdressers, taxi cabs got stiffed. The only people who liked serving my parents worked on commission. Everyone else was treated with disdain.

My parents were people only the morally bankrupt would look up to. My father was a businessman who bought companies on the brink of bankruptcy, laid off half the staff, and then built it back up only to sell it again. He was known as a shark but was really a bully in expensive suits. Why anyone would think he was a genius in finance was beyond me. His ethics weren't questionable. They were nonexistent.

If a couple could prove that the mating bond was real and true, it was my parents. Any good matchmaker would put the couple together. My father was a pompous blowhard and my mother was a vapid social climber.

"I'll be so happy when tonight is over," my mother preened in the mirror. She took out a tube of brilliant red lipstick, her "signature color," and plastered it all over her lips. "You'll be gone. Natalie and Patrick can cement their relationship. Your father and I can take our places on the Council. Everything will go the way it needs to be."

I bit back a retort and walked up the stairs to the top floor. I'd start in Natalie's room. That would take the longest. How she was able to smell halfway decent living in a pit like that was beyond me. Dirty clothes were thrown all over the floor. Plates with crusty food were shoved under the bed and on the bedside tables. Makeup was littered on every surface. The only thing that looked halfway decent was her desk containing a computer, professional lights, and video setup. My sister was certain she'd become a beautiful Youtuber. My mother agreed and more than half of Natalie's fifty thousand subscribers were bots.

I cleaned until everything was done. When I glanced at the clock, I saw that I had only thirty minutes to take a shower and get to the Pack House. I scurried up the stair and into the bathroom.

I took a shower with the basic shampoo and conditioner my mother bought at the dollar store for me. I wondered what kind of shampoo and conditioner I'd get at the Pack House. I wondered if I would have my own bathroom or if I would have to share one with someone. I wondered if I would have a towel or if I would have to make do with whatever. I knew I would have to wear a uniform. The Luna was traditional in all things. I would wear a long black dress with a high collar, a plain white apron, and sensible shoes.

Getting out of the shower I wrapped a towel around my thin body. I looked at the small mirror above the ceramic sink. Using the tips of my fingers, I wiped away the steam and looked at my own reflection. My hair was dripping wet. There were purple bruises under my eyes. My face was pale and my lips were chapped to the point of bleeding. I looked like a ghost on a horror film with tangled black hair and a frightened look. 

"Mya! Hurry!" my mom bellowed over the intercom system. I jumped at the sound of her voice and ran into my bedroom.

I grabbed the sack-like black dress made of thin cotton off my bed. I was sure my mother got it from the thrift store at the clearance section. My shoes were a "gift" from my father. Black and sturdy they looked like something old ladies wore to power walk around the mall.

I ran a comb through my hair and jumped again when my father bellowed my name. Hurriedly, I ran down the stairs and to the front door.

"You need to be quicker," my father was dressed in a dark suit with a brilliant white shirt. His diamond cufflinks glinted in the subdued light as he straightened his tie. "The royal family will never allow such disrespect in their home. They should never have to wait on you."

"Yes, sir," I whispered. 

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" Natalie elongated the last word.

I looked at her dressed in a purple ballgown. Her hair was swept up in an elaborate updo and around her neck was real diamonds in a necklace. "We don't have time for this!"

"All right," my mother came from the formal living room in a teal dress that looked like it belonged to someone half her age. "Let's go. The sooner we get this done the sooner we can have the Beta family over to discuss," her words turned sing-song as she smiled at her favorite child. "Wedding plans!"

Natalie squealed and jumped up and down as she clapped her hands.

I opened the door and sucked in my breath. People lined the streets. In a normal Changing, they'd be holding sparklers or throwing flower petals, or blowing bubbles. In a normal Changing, Patrick would be standing with me and walking me down the roads. If I were any other wolf there would be a musical quartet or a deejay playing music. If I weren't an Omega, there would be photographers following me every step of the way taking pictures. 

Instead, everyone was dressed in black. I kept my head down as I walked through the crowds. One by one the people standing to my left and right turned their backs on me. I felt the tears come to my eyes and began biting my lips again. I kept my head down as every wolf I knew made sure I was aware of my status as the Omega.

I walked as quickly as I could. Finally, I was on the steps to the Pack House. I saw Patrick at the base of the platform the Alpha sat on. Beside him sat his Luna, named Felicity, as she watched me carefully with brilliant blue eyes. I looked up and saw Brody, the only person in the world who'd ever been kind to me, look like he was fighting crying himself. I watched Madeline tilt her head as I walked and look like she wanted to be anywhere other than there.

I finally got to the pillow and knelt in front of the Alpha. Edmond the Fearsome was a larger man with muddy brown hair and a thick beard. His body was just as muscular as when he was a teenager and his green eyes were beady and narrowed.

"Mya Adams!" he called out. "The Woodlands Pack is only as strong as its weakest member! You," he pointed at me and called out to the room. "Are our weakest member!"

I inhaled and exhaled. Focused on my breathing as the Alpha decided my fate. I heard movement and my head jerked up. I watched carefully as a man with a shock of closely clipped black hair came forward. He was dressed in a pair of loose black pants that moved with him and a tight black shirt that stretched tight over his enormous frame. On his feet were black boots without shine. His movements were commanding and powerful. While the wolves I knew were strong, this man looked like he could take on our entire Pack with no issue. He commanded respect with every breath he took. 

I looked from the man to the Alpha and back again. This was not what I thought was going to happen.

"As our weakest member, I am commanding that you, on your fifteenth birthday, join the training for the Night Hunters," with that proclamation the room went silent. I heard and felt everyone glancing at the other in question. 

The Night Hunters were the deadliest group of wolves in existence. Their prowess was legendary. They were assassins who worked only for the Governing Council of Wolves. They plead allegiance to the Council, no Pack. They trained for six years, from fifteen to twenty-one, day and night with no days off. And then they participated in a Ceremony. No one knew what the Ceremony entailed. Only that most wolves never made it out of the Ceremony alive.  

Wolves who went to the Night Hunters were the best of the best of the Pack. Many of them came home after only a few weeks or months. When they did come home, it was always in great celebration and fanfare. Packs loved having Night Hunter trainees in their Packs. The longer the wolf stayed in training the better. 

"You will not come home until you have become a Night Hunter," Edmond the Fearsome told me. "If you show your face her without the Night Hunter tattoo, we will take that as an act of treason and you will be put to death."

My view went from the man to the Alpha to around the room. The Alpha had just sentenced me to death. There was no way that I, as an Omega, could become a Night Hunter. I would die in training. There was no doubt in anyone's mind. 

I looked at Patrick and willed him to step forward and save me. His mouth opened as if he were about to speak up and then it closed with a snap. I mouthed the word, "Please," to him to no avail. I watched the horror on his face shutter to nothingness. His arm reached out and he pulled my sister to him even closer. 

I looked at her and saw she was smiling a Cheshire smile. My own sister was gleeful at the thought of my death.

"Stand," the man barked at me.

Instantly, I jumped up.

"Turn around," the man ordered.

Instantly, I turned in a slow circle.

"She'll do," the man's voice was gravely and low. I didn't know if he was speaking to the Alpha or the room or me. Everyone was silent as he spoke.

The Alpha looked completely satisfied as if he'd eaten a large meal filled with every meat possible.

"Reject your Pack," the man looked at me and I saw him watch me with clear grey eyes.

I might've been mistaken but it looked like he was giving me a chance. A moment to make my own decision. Hope. He had hope in his eyes and I reached out and took it for myself.

I looked one more time at Patrick. He stood there watching us while holding my sister. I thought about the time he rejected me in the lunchroom. I thought about the time he showed up at my house to take Natalie on their first date. I thought about the times I caught them kissing against my locker. I realized that at that moment he was watching his mate being sentenced to death and not doing a damn thing about it.

"I, Mya Adams, do hereby reject the Woodlands Pack," I glanced at the man and saw he had an impassive look on his face. "From this moment forward, I will be a Night Hunter trainee. I pledge my allegiance to the Governing Council of Wolves."

"Let's go," the man turned without bowing and walked away from the royal family as if they were strangers.

I hurried to follow him through the silent Throne Room and the Pack House. Everyone parted away from us as we walked by.

"You have anyone to say goodbye to?" the man asked me as we neared a sleek black Escalade.

"No," I practically slammed into him as he stopped.

"Mom? Dad? Sibling? Mate?" his grey eyes narrowed at me.

"No," I shook my head.

"Good," he clipped as he got into the SUV. 

I ran to the passenger seat and jumped in. Before I could even get my seatbelt on, he threw the vehicle into drive and peeled out of the parking lot.

We drove through the night. As we neared midnight, I began to get antsy. Suddenly, he pulled on the side of a deserted road. All around us were cornfields.

"Don't have much time," the man announced as he opened his door. "Come on."

I threw my own open and jumped down onto the gravel road. I heard the rocks crunch under my feet. I heard the slow breeze flitter through the trees lining the cornfields. 

"Go on," the man waved to a group of trees. "Shift."

I nodded my head and walked through a small crop of trees. Slowly, I took off my dress and kicked off my shoes. For the first time in a long time, I felt tears fall down my cheeks. I should've been in The Woodlands. I should've had Patrick by my side as I shifted. This was one of the most important moments of my life and I was with a perfect stranger on a gravel road in the middle of Indiana. I choked back a sob as my bones began to change. I tried not to cry out in pain as my body contorted into a wolf.

Suddenly, my eyes adjusted to the world around me. I could see things I'd never seen as a human. I heard animals run through the fields. I heard the birds sleeping. I could even hear the breathing of the man standing by the Escalade over fifty yards away.

Slowly, I stumbled out of the crop of trees and tried to get my bearings as I trotted up to him. 

"Sit," the man commanded.

I sat on my back haunches immediately. He got out a cell phone from his back pocket and held it up in front of me.

"You're a pretty one, that's for sure," he took a picture.

I yelped at the flash.

"None of that," he straightened up and put the phone back in his pocket. "You're a Night Hunter now. No yelping. No crying. No showing pain or fear or struggle."

I huffed to show I was still paying attention.

He nodded to the field and said, "Go. Run. Get your bearings. You have an hour."

I did what he said. I ran and ran and ran. It was the ultimate feeling of freedom. 

All too soon a whistle came out of the darkness. Immediately, I ran to the trees and shifted back. It was easier that time. Much easier. I put on my dress and shoes and walked back to the vehicle and man.

"Move out," the man announced as he got into the driver's seat. Obediently, I opened the door.

I glanced at the field for a second and wondered if I could make a run for it. I could become a rogue. Never come back to the Pack or him or the Night Hunters.

"You can go," the man looked at me through the light on the ceiling of the SUV. "I won't stop you. But you'll always wonder if you'd make it."

I looked back out at the field. Shaking my head, I got into the Escalade.

"If it makes you feel any better," the man pulled out the second the door shut. "I could've left you there. I could've told the Alpha to shove his offering up his ass. But I didn't. Because I think you can do it."

He leaned forward as he took a turn at speeds that made my stomach churn. He pulled out his phone, ran his thumb over the top of it, and pressed some numbers as he watched the road.

"Your wolf is beautiful. Too bad they'll never see her," he commented as he gave me the phone.

I stared at the screen. My wolf was a rare one. All black with green eyes. I looked fierce.

"Won't be the first time some dumbass doctor got it wrong," the man held out his hand and I put his phone back onto it. He did the same maneuvers to put it away. "Won't be the last."

I looked out the window as the world sped by. I smiled to myself. Whatever happened, I had a beautiful wolf. I'd never had anything about me considered beautiful. But she was.

It was early morning when he pulled off the main road. We drove through the trees through twists and turns that made my stomach hurt. I watched as people came to view. Individuals dressed in all shades of gray running around with purpose and stature. Those in white saluted everyone who walked by them. The ones in lighter grays saluted those in darker grays.

"The closer you come to black, the closer you come to being a Night Hunter," the man announced as we sped around. Every time someone saw the Escalade they stopped what they were doing and saluted the vehicle.

"Here we go," he stopped the vehicle and slammed open the door. A boy in light gray instantly took the keys from the man's hand and moved to get into the vehicle. I hopped back when the recruit tore through the winding roads to somewhere I couldn't see.

We walked up a short stone path to a huge lodge-like structure. Wood logs bigger than most buildings held up three stories. The enormous doors were opened by two young people in white shirts. They held the doors open as they saluted the man. Inside were two rows of desks with recruits in light grey answering telephone calls and clicking on computers. People in a medium grey mopped the floors and wiped down already clean windows. 

Larger than life men and women dressed all in black marched around and barked orders. As I walked with the man, people stopped and saluted him as we walked by. 

"First floor, operations," the man waved his hand around. "The second floor is commander's offices where you will not step one foot on until you're in year three. The third floor," he turned to me and said in a deadly serious voice, "You are not to go. Ever. I don't care if you see your parents, your family, or the gods themselves up there. You do not belong up there."

"Okay," I nodded as I glanced up the towering height to the top floor.

"It's 'sir, yes, sir' or 'sir, no, sir' or nothing at all, recruit," he announced deeply. "You do not speak unless spoken to."

"Sir, yes, sir," I said instantly.

I watched in fascination as he leaned in slowly, almost unnoticeable, and whispered, "You know how to follow orders. That much is clear. Your first few years here, that's exactly what you need to do. Shut up. Keep your head down. Follow orders. I will never tell you to do something you won't survive. You listen to me, do what I say, and you'll be wearing black in six years. The minute you want to argue with me, remember this. I'm a Night Hunter. I know better than you ever will."

"Sir, yes, sir," I immediately replied.

"Smart," he nodded as he straightened up. "Let's go."

We walked out of the lodge and into a large structure with black walls and a metal black roof. Inside were bunks lined up two by two along the walls. I watched as people in varying shades of gray scrambled around cleaning. Along one wall were shower heads hanging down from the ceiling. No covers. No curtains. Just showerheads and my cheeks blushed when I realized I'd be taking showers in front of everyone without any cover.  Along the other side of the room were toilet stalls and sinks lining the wall. The mirrors were small and looked like they were made from tin. 

I looked at the recruits and noticed the men all had close-cropped hair and smooth cheeks. The women all had their hair in tightly braided buns. Everyone looked fit and sturdy but nowhere near the body of the man walking me around.

"Team Eight!" the man yelled as we neared a set of bunk beds. "Recruit."

Two boys stood at attention. I peeked at them under my lashes. One was a short black guy with what I'd term baby fat around his face and stomach. He looked at me just as curiously as I did him. The other guy was a skinny white boy with a shock of red hair and acne so bad it looked painful. He looked at me with a sad smile. One had a mop and the other had a rag.

"Clothes are on your bunk," the man motioned to a white shirt, black pants, boots, and nude-colored underclothes. "Get dressed. PT in ten."

I watched as he marched away. Quickly, I grabbed my clothes. The two boys with me only watched.

"Do you mind, um," I glanced up at both of them. 

The shorter guy nudged the taller one with his elbow and turned around.

"Right," the taller one squeaked and turned on his heel.

"Thanks," I muttered as I undressed as quickly as I could and redressed in my training clothes.

"I'm uh," I sat on the bed to tie my boots. "I'm good."

They turned back around and watched me carefully.

"I'm Trent," the redhead announced. "This is Marcus."

"Hey. I'm Mya," I looked them in the eyes and then focused on my shoes.

"Sorry about all this," Trent began mopping again.

"What?" I asked as I grabbed a rag of my own and began wiping down the bunks.

"This," Trent waved the handle of the mop around in a circular motion. "Us. Being on Team Eight."

"Why?" I looked at them.

"Because we're the worst of the worst," Marcus announced. "Worse than that. Trent and I have to be here for at least six months as punishment from our Alpha."

"We might've sent him a large package full of elephant s**t," Trent gave me an faux-innocent smile. 

"Damn thing was supposed to be anonymous," Marcus complained. "This i***t swore to me it would be."

I bit my laughter back and continued to clean.

"So if you can just hang with us for six months," Trent gave me a friendly smile. "We'd appreciate it a lot. All our other teammates either went home or traded to another team."

"I can't leave," I shook my head. "Not in six months. Not in a year. I have to become a Night Hunter."

"What did you do?" Trent leaned in and breathed.

"Nothing," I quickly turned and went back to cleaning.

Cleaning time turned into physical training time. Physical training time took up most of the day and it was as brutal as anything I'd ever done. Dinner was a hurried affair in which we had a total of five minutes to cram as much food into our mouths as possible before getting up, cleaning for another hour, and then doing more physical training even though my body was begging for it to stop.

I realized why the showers were the way they were. No one had any time to even look at each other as we hosed off the day. Neither s*x looked embarrassed or uncomfortable simply because we were too exhausted to have any sense of decorum. We all dried off with scratchy towels, pulled on pairs of white boxers and t-shirts, and climbed onto our bunks.

"Lights out!" the man bellowed as every one of the lights in the bunkhouse turned off.

"Hey, Mya?" Marcus called out just as my eyes were getting heavy.

"Yeah?" I murmured.

"Why can't you go home?" Marcus's voice was so low I could barely hear it.

For the first time in my life, I opened up to someone. Two people really. My teammates. I explained the day I turned seven and was announced to be the next Omega. I told them of the royal family. The Woodlands Pack. My own parents. My sister. And my mate. The night sped by as I explained the night before in as much detail as I could muster being as exhausted as I was. I didn't even know if Trent or Marcus were listening to anything I was saying. All I knew is I had to get my story out. The hurt and anger and degradation poured out of me like boiling sludge.

"If I go back, I'm dead," I said into the nothingness.

There was a long pause. 

"Then you won't," Marcus announced in a solemn voice. "We become Night Hunters. Or we die trying."

"All for one. One for all," Trent said even softer.

There was another pause.

"Or three for eight," Trent finished.

I heard Marcus snort a laugh. I rolled my eyes, turned my pillow to a colder side, and went into a deep sleep.