The Alpha's Cursed Mate novel Chapter 6

She danced around with the ribbons, spinning and flying, as her mother hummed to the song. The aroma of her mother's food covered the kitchen and could be smelt from miles away. If there was one thing her mother knew how to do like a pro, it was cooking. Too bad she decided against being a chef. The little girl was positive her father had quite a good time when he was alive.

Twirling on her feet, she shot her arms out, using the ribbons to grab a cup and a salad knife. Adjusting her body, she spun the ribbon, slicing the knife through the air with a smile on her face. She was getting better at this.

"Mother, I have a question to ask," she spoke, bending her body backwards as she spun the ribbon spirally above her. Her mother hummed. "How do I identify my mate?"

"It's easy," her mother smiled, "when you perceive the most intoxicating and pleasant scent, when the wind blows against you in a way you can't understand when you can't think of anything but that scent, just know that the owner of the scent is the one. And what do you do when you find him?"

She spun her ribbon to a stop. "I reject him."

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Another ridiculous day, only worse. Since the news of “The Steel” Alpha's agreement to visit our pack spread, the alpha worked my bones into making the pack perfect. Every one of them knew I was a perfectionist when it came to arrangement, so they had me do most of the work, so the pack would be organised enough to leave a good impression. The only good thing about it was that I was allowed to spend time away as a reward. Though I knew it wasn't. They didn't want the alpha to choose me, just in case none found their mates. “Who would see such a good servant and turn a blind eye?” Alpha Swindells had asked rhetorically.

So, waking up that day was splendid news, actually. I washed up and put on one of the few nice dresses I inherited from my mother. I brushed my hair, braided it and placed the braided tail over my shoulder and wore my only good shoes. It was the black combat boots a distant friend of mine bought for me. If I was lucky, she would swing by, though I doubted.

Her name was Scarlette. I met her a year after my mother died. She had wandered into the forest and found my quiet spot. For a human, she wasn't a bit scared to find a tattered girl in the middle of a forest. Somehow, I felt safe with her. She would tell me stories and jokes, and even if I didn't understand, it was good to listen to her speak.