There are rules against rejecting a mate. They're unspoken and tend to be more like guidelines, but it's out of dignity and respect that mates are not rejected. We're taught to never reject our mates—especially after the decree that has been enforced by the Alpha King. Which is why I was caught completely off-guard.

I land on the mat with a heavy oomph! My back already aching from the vigorous training.

"Come on Mia," one of the trainers instructs. My opponent pacing alongside me waiting for me to stand. "Stay on the ground any longer and you're a dead woman."

I jump back to my feet, facing the girl who had swiped at me. She grins at me devilishly, spitting on the grass beside the mat. "What else you got, Mia?"

Her voice is taunting me. I need to remain calm before I lose myself too much in the fight. After I take a deep breath, I give her a smile and she runs at me with a yell. She starts throwing punches and I block them as best as I can remember. Incidentally, she manages to land one right in my gut, hard enough to take my breath away. In response, I quickly dodge to the side, bringing my knee up into her own body.

"Good job ladies." Our instructor claps his hands slowly while we stand on opposite ends of the mat slowly catching our breaths. He's smiling proudly, "Let's stop it here. Before you kill one another or wolf out."

I turn towards my sparring partner. We both break a smile, fist bumping each other to acknowledge no feelings have been hurt. This is what every day looks like for us. Training in the mornings before hours of leadership training and counselling. While the men continue to train their bodies, we head to class to train our minds. It's what makes us so incredibly smarter than the muscle drones.

Clara walks up to me with a water bottle. She hands it to me with a smile, "That was great Mia. You're getting better."

I smile at my friend, taking large gulps of the ice-cold water. "Thanks, I've still got so much to improve on."

"Well, that's because you're book smart." Clara shrugs, "Top of the class."

"But not top in training." I sigh deeply.

"Girl, you need to chill out." Clara shakes her head at me. "No one is perfect, Mia."

I can't help but smile at her. Clara and I have been best friends since we were young. We were in class together from day one. We're so close that the instructor doesn't pin us against each other anymore because we hold back.

"Come on," Clara smiles. "You've got to shower before class or you're going to reek like wet dog."

I roll my eyes, but take her advice and head into the changing rooms where all the other girls are showering and getting dressed. The lockers are lined up based on what level of training you have. Some at the very end of the room is a set of lockers for the younger pre-teen girls. Clara and I are already at the advance stage. We're so close to be graduating from training.

Clare undoes her ponytail, letting her blonde curls cascade down her shoulders. "God stop looking so pretty," I say with a laugh.

"What?" She turns to me as she opens up her locker and tosses me an extra towel. "What this?"

Her hands wave over her face and body as she sways her hips sensually. "I know," She says with a smirk. "I'm so hot."

I let out a laugh, a few of the women around us looking in our direction. Clara has always been extremely confident. It's rubbed off on me while we were growing up and I was getting my ass handed to in trainings. But she really does have an affection for her looks.

"Your mate is going to love you." I roll my eyes.

Her grin widens and a dreamy look overtakes her eyes. We're taught to be strong and to never show any weaknesses. That physical power makes us strong, learning keeps our minds sharp, and that strength in numbers is unbeatable. But Clara and I are dreamers. We're always gossiping whenever someone finds their mate. We dream of the day we meet our own. Some nights when the skies are clear we sit around the patches of grass, drinking wine, and making up what our mates look like and how they act.

"You know you're also hot, Mia." Clara smirks as I walk back over to her in a towel. My body already feeling better after the shower.

"I know," I wink at her. "But dammit Clara, your boobs are just so much better than mine."

"At least you have boobs," A young pre-teen girls walks by me to go into the shower. Her head shaking and her comment making Clara and I laugh.

"Just give puberty some time," I yell after her. Quickly undressing myself, I head into the showers before class.

Clare ends up meeting me in our lecture hall. My hair is wet and a few of the other girls in the classroom stare at me as I run in just a second before our class starts. I take my seat next to my best friend, pulling out my notebook from my bag.

Just as our professor walks into the room, we hear a whistle blow outside. Incidentally, we all turn towards the window as all the men begin jogging into the woods. Us girls have to stay inside to learn about tactics and strategy. We're taught to be leaders, politicians, advisors. Whereas the men are taught to warriors and fighters. Occasionally, there's a girl or guy who switches roles. If a girl shows true potential in athleticism, she'll get permission to transfer into the physical class. Vice versa for any male who finds a true passion in something like mathematics, engineering, or anything academic. Other packs like to call us Sparta. Not that it's our official name, but it does have a nice ring to it.

Our teacher coughs into his hand to draw us back to the board, I turn eagerly, waiting for our lesson. Leadership, fighting patterns, war tactics, managing a pack, understanding the dynamics of a pack—it's all fascinating to me. I might not be the strongest of the girls training, but I've definitely managed well on my courses.

Ideally, I want to be an advisor. Some of our pack gets to leave and go to the Royal Capital to help advise the King or get assigned to other packs. It's something that would let me explore outside of Sparta and ideally meet new werewolves. Every pack has their own culture or specialization. Just because Sparta is about strength doesn't mean other packs are the same—and unlike some other wolves—I'd like to find out.

I take vigorous notes of our lesson. Our professor sitting on his desk just as class is about to come to an end. "Any questions anyone?" He asks with his arms crossed over his chest.

Clara raises her hand along with some other girls. "Yeah," Clara says when she's called on. "We're supposed to graduate in a few weeks. What happens if we fail your final? Do we not get to participate in the ceremony?"

"I believe you can still attend the ceremony." He answers, "But not as a graduate. Just a guest."

Clara smiles, she's been excited over the ceremony for months now. She sees it as a beautiful social event to meet the most powerful of our pack. To show off her physical skills and—of course—her ridiculous physique. I'm not too thrilled about the fighting element. We're meant to show off our skills, but mine are quite lackluster. There are probably only a few people in our large graduation group that I could actually beat.

As we leave class, Clara furrows her eyebrows at me. "Are you okay Mia? You seem out of it..."

"Fine," I shrug off. But the thought of the ceremony keeps playing in my head. We were there last year. Girls go first. They fight in pairs or in groups. Like we're gladiators putting on a show. People watch. Our Alpha, Beta, and all the other most powerful werewolves of our pack.

Once the girls are done fighting, we get changed and the men come out to put on an even more elaborate show. From then on, we women are subjected to small talk and watching our friends battle it out. The ending show typically results in the final and strongest members battling in wolf form. It's a harmless ceremony really...no one has died in a few years so it's relatively safe.

Most importantly, at the end of the night we all receive the "brand" on our wrist. Every member of a pack receives one at some point in their lives. Some packs give it to you when you're born. Other's depending on age or milestones. Our pack has the tradition of giving you the brand at the ceremony when you're proven yourself to be a warrior.

"You're going to be fine." Clara offers a soft smile. She knows me better than anyone and can clearly tell I'm rattled. It's not like I'll get to draft up attack plans to show off to other members. No, I have to show my strength.

"Thanks Clara." I smile gently. Trying to lighten the mood I say, "Hey at least we'll see Bren and Jake."

Alpha Bren and Beta Jake were both werewolves we grew up with. After a certain age we're all separated by gender so that we can focus on our specific studies. But because Bren—at the time—was a soon to be Alpha, he would attend a lot of our tactics and leadership courses. His best friend Jake alongside him. It wasn't until recently, when Bren's father passed away, that he stopped coming to class.

Alpha Bren has since been too busy managing the pack to be able to attend his additional courses. Even though Jake's father is still the official Beta, we weren't at all surprised that he stopped showing up since his best friend wasn't there.

Regardless, Clara and I were quite close to them at one point. Just before our Alpha passed away. Bren used to ask me to tutor him. He struggled with a few concepts and me—having the highest grades in the class—I was recommended to him. Clara would just try to get them both to loosen up a bit. They always acted like they had a massive stick up their asses.

"God," Clara rolls her eyes. "I bet Bren is a total dick now since he's become Alpha. We barely see him anymore other than his stupid pack speeches."

I let out a small chuckle, "I'm sure he'll loosen up once he finds a mate."

"Well...I hope that's soon." Clara sighs, "I don't know how much more of the conditioning I can take..."

She looks at me up and down, "I mean...you can take."

I shove her lightly with a laugh, "Shut up."

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A/N

Welcome to my first/new story! Please feel free to comment if you like it so far :)  Excited to see where this takes us