Before finding out about the intended pièce de résistance, maintaining a pleasant demeanour had been difficult enough; now, it was almost impossible. On exiting the kitchen, I was greeted by another chorus of compliments and congratulations. My head was starting to pound and my throat felt dry. The cool beer I'd just finished no longer quenched my thirst; its taste was now soured by what Marrok had revealed. The noise of guests' chatter, laughter, the clinking of glasses, and music - all were closing in, giving rise to claustrophobia. I desperately wanted to escape.

My mother, all smiles and appreciation, wafted through the crowd toward me. Damn! My disappearing act was scuppered for sure. She frowned at my expression and asked everyone nearby if they would mind giving her a moment with her daughter. All obliged.

For a split second, I thought she was in danger of showing a modicum of affection. Her tight smile, however, clearly indicated otherwise. "What's got into you now?" Her tone was cold and unsympathetic.

My fury was peaking, overtaking my feeling of being caged, closed in. "Did you know about the transformation stint?" I hissed.

"The what?" Mum's brow knitted before she omitted a little chuckle - for the benefit of all observing, of course.

"Everyone is supposedly waiting to see me become Ishtar's bloody avatar!" I struggled to keep my voice low.

Grabbing my arm, my mother ushered me aside. "I think you'd better improve your attitude, young lady. These people are all here to honour your ascension within the community, so, show some appreciation. This is history in the making, especially for us Matthews."

I exhaled huffily. I was livid, predominantly with Marrok and his dad, but my mother's insistence on always presenting a grateful veneer infuriated me even more. "You know I hate all this attention, and when I heard that Mr Daniels had decided I was to transform in front of everyone..."

"Oh, that!" she scoffed, then nonchalantly sipped her champagne. 

My mouth fell open. But why was I so surprised? "So you did know about it?"

"He merely suggested it," she said dismissively. "We said no."

"Well, I should think so! I'm not something to be gawked at like a... like an exhibition piece!"

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. He was joking. Stop being so precious. Besides, the fact you haven't..." she subtly gestured to my body.

"Exactly! How embarrassing that would have been for m..."

"Us!" my mum quickly said, cutting me short. She rolled her eyes, but her tone revealed a feigned objection."We'd be the talk of the town!"

I knew full well that my mother's concern lay with her own dignity taking a knock and nothing else. To Hell with my feelings or my dad's. I was sharply reminded of the popular girls at school, for she was just like them; she loved her stance on a pedestal and being idolised while lacking for nothing.  Yet, even with my father's generosity and devotion, it never seemed to sate my mum's hunger for notoriety. 

During my informative years, she always made an excuse for missing school or leisure events in which I participated. Although it hurt me at the time, I soon developed a tough shell. As such, my feelings about my mother became complex, confused and mostly buried. But, moments like tonight brought everything screaming to the surface again.

My dad, on the other hand, attended everything, from school sports days to end-of-term concerts and graduations. He'd taken me to swimming classes, hockey lessons and matches, horse riding, and ice skating. He always encouraged and monitored my progress. If I didn't enjoy whatever activity I was involved in, he never objected or complained. I absolutely adored my dad and tried my best to show my appreciation for all he'd done for me. He was primarily a doting father, always there for me, no matter what.

Already from a wealthy family of (alleged) werewolves, he'd been brought up knowing that one always put their family first and my dad, true to form, ensured his wife had everything she wanted and more. From the time I was an infant, he spoiled me too. But I never ever took it for granted. I even begged him to 'stop wasting his money' in such a fashion. But he would still come home with a surprise for me or be overly generous when it came to birthdays and Christmas.

When I turned 13, I started to note things about my mother. I acknowledged the fact she was a gold-digger, a social butterfly, void of true feelings and about as compassionate as a brick wall. So unlike my friends' mothers. Apart from the endless benefits of being a rich man's spouse, everyone viewed her primarily as 'Lyall's wife', and was the otherwise untitled spouse of the pack's Gamma. Although she too came from a respectable werewolf clan, her small, unimpressive credentials irked her and another mundane title - that of 'mother' - was added to her portfolio once I was born. As my dad's birthright and position outshone any of her family's hierarchy, she had to 'toe the line' and I knew that didn't sit comfortably with her. 

My mum's inability to love her husband or daughter festered deep within me. Foremost, I hated my dad being used so blatantly. I wondered if, deep down, he realised what she was - or if it even bothered him. All he did was work and provide, seemingly oblivious to my mother's lingering contempt. 

Before I fell asleep, I sometimes wished for terrible things to happen to my mum. Then, the next day, I'd feel awful about it and pray nothing bad would transpire. The woman irritated me but I never truly wished her ill - maybe a little mishap now and again, but nothing fatal.  

Now, with those memories clammering my mind, I was still glowering at her when Alaric Henderson approached us. He was Alpha of The Fire Manes, one of the ten packs that ran under the banner of the Volsungs clan. Six years ago, at age 34, he also became Borrowdale's youngest-ever Mayor. There was no denying the forward-thinking Mayor was a tonic for the once-sleepy town of Borrowdale. He knew potential when he saw it, and working together with organisations and authorities, he ensured the town's growth and commercial progress helped pin it on the map. Liked by the majority, he could do no wrong in the townsfolk's eyes. He was charismatic and possessed a natural gift when it came to addressing public injunctions. I'd never known him socially and really had very little to do with him, other than the occasional business meeting I attended in EcoTech's boardroom.

I hadn't noticed him at the party earlier, so I assumed he'd just arrived. He offered congratulations, completely ignoring my mum, which I could see had her agitated. She didn't like being ignored and I knew she'd be raging that the Mayor bypassed her completely and spoke to little ol' me.

"Thank you," I replied, politely yet clipped. I scanned the guests, searching for my dad. Odd that he wasn't nearby.

Alaric's eyes shifted between my mother and me, and somewhere in the exchange, I sensed a tension, but Alaric quickly diverted me. "I'm honoured to be chosen as your mentor, Bria." 

Another fucking surprise! Mentor? For what, exactly? I caught my mother's stern look and knew I had to pretend I was aware of this agreement. Why had my dad not told me about all of this? "Thank you," I said again, clueless as to why I was being grateful. I was now more focused than ever on searching for my dad.

"She is delighted, Alaric..." my mother said, flashing one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, reserved only for those who had power or status. 

As she was about to elaborate, Alaric dismissed her with a grunt and took me by the elbow, steering me away from her. Unashamedly I felt great pleasure knowing my mother would be hugely incensed by the Mayor's snub. How dare he! "I apologise, Mr Henderson," I said quietly. "I didn't mean to be rude. I was searching for my father who seems to have disappeared." As the words fell from my lips, an unsettling feeling crept over me, but I couldn't determine why. I tried to force it from my thoughts.

But then Alaric issued me with a predatory smile that sent a chill down my spine. "You must be overcome by all of this," he said, waving his hand around the hall. Then, turning back to me, he leaned closer, and his steel-grey eyes seemed to devour me. 

"Well... yes, actually. I am." I braced myself for what he would say next. I wriggled my arm free, indignant that he felt he had the right to manhandle me.

The tip of his tongue wet his lips. "It cannot be overlooked that the timeous passing of your pack's Alpha has enabled a fortuitous opening for you to be named Heir and, ultimately, the newly appointed Alpha of The Dusk Hunters." 

I stared at him. This was the second time in the space of fifteen minutes a man had infuriated me with reference to some werewolf gratuity. Thanks to my position in EcoTech, with all the training I'd received, I knew exactly how to counter such an insinuation. Mayor or not, he'd caused my hackles to rise, and I formulated a well-tailored response. Gathering every ounce of confidence I possessed, I looked Alaric Henderson straight in the eyes. "Some may consider your words as accusatory, Mr Henderson. Are you implying that my ascendance has been acquired by insidious means?" I revelled at the glint of uncertainty rippling across his eyes - I mean, I'd just challenged an established Alpha - reckless perhaps, but oddly satisfying too. Clearly, he hadn't expected a twenty-year-old girl to challenge him either. 

I was aware that some considered me feisty, bordering on conceited, but that was perhaps mired in the fact my father came from a historically wealthy and influential family. Seldom were we viewed as anything other than privileged wannabes who rode pillion on our family's affluent status. But we were nothing like what they perceived - at least my father and I weren't, I couldn't vouch for my mother. Since he'd left school, my father had studied and worked tirelessly to try and eradicate the unfair assumption people had of him and, subsequently, my mother and me.    Not everyone thought ill of us, but, sometimes, things weren't worth the effort. People will think what they choose and nothing will change their minds. 

Alaric Henderson was one of those bigoted individuals. He was also his own biggest fan—so much so that I was sure he'd eat himself if he were made of chocolate. I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed nervously, as he swallowed hard before answering, "God, no! I didn't mean that at all, Bria. That would be slanderous."

"Exactly. I almost called Raif over to bear witness."

Alaric's lips parted with a nervous laugh. Admittedly, I felt a little smug but I needed to be sensible, so I let him stew for a few more seconds before releasing the tension. "Anyway, thank you for agreeing to mentor me." 

"Welcome." He seemed to be chewing over something else, and a few moments later he spoke again. "But, I think it's prudent to let you know there is some anarchy within the clans. I mention it only to make you aware."

I merely nodded, not wishing to convey my ignorance of such affairs.

I considered the whispers I'd heard throughout the evening and my underlying feeling that something was amiss. Had Alaric confirmed my suspicions, or had he issued a personal warning? It seemed these clans and subsequent packs were bordering on some conflict, but was it genuinely involving werewolves or just modern-day politicians dressed in wolf clothing? Perhaps something in Borrowdale's water made folk think they were animals, thus the pack mentality. 

The Mayor squared his shoulders, allowing his self-assured disposition to rise to the fore before responding. "You will learn quickly, I'm sure. We should schedule a day to discuss your role in the community."

"Well, I imagine your diary is busier than mine, so I will let your secretary organise that, Mr Henderson. You can let me know what day and time suits you. You can contact me at EcoTech, or is it easier by email?"

After hinting about slander, I thought I was on the winning end, but when I met his eyes, his calculating persona was back in full force. The Alpha in him was almost flexing. "You shall hear from me soon, Bria. Enjoy the rest of your evening." And then he was gone, weaving his way through the throng, exchanging pleasantries and polite conversation. Arrogant sod.

As I continued searching for my dad's face amongst the guests, I mulled over what Alaric had said. I had to admit he had a point about Colton Hayes' death. Everything had neatly coincided with his passing, and for the best part of eighteen years, he'd been the Alpha of The Dusk Hunters, the foremost branch of The Ishtar Clan. It was no secret that Colton had been in poor health for almost five years, battling cancer. So, why would anyone think his death was orchestrated? I suspected Raif and the Council may have considered Colton's illness would surely win, therefore, the process of selecting the Heir was stretched out to accommodate that inevitability. 

A commotion sounded from upstairs. Even amid the din of guests, music and chatter I heard it. Possibly because I knew the house so well and anything out of the ordinary stood out for me. I looked around at everyone. Some guests must have heard it too, for they looked bewildered; others seemed mildly concerned, while more yet appeared utterly clueless, too busy enjoying the snobby bubbles and the mundane chit-chat.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Marrok dashing from the kitchen and heading to the main entrance. I glanced at my mother. She seemed dazed, unaware of anything other than her own importance. I glared at the glass of champagne in her hand; no doubt it was her umpteenth tipple this evening. "Mum?" I enunciated. Disbelief! No response. Typical.

I set off in pursuit of Marrok, hurriedly excusing my way past some of the guests. On reaching the bottom of the stairs, I noticed more party-goers staring upward as a blur shot across the top landing and to the left. I sprinted up the stairs. 

On reaching the top landing, I scanned both ways. Nothing and no one was in sight. I couldn't fathom what I'd seen moments before. 

To the right, at the far end was my father's study. The door was open just enough to see the light from within seeping into the hallway. This was highly irregular. Mt dad would never leave his study unlocked when so many guests were in the house.

A sharp pang of anxiety swallowed me. The sense of foreboding I'd experienced earlier returned - tenfold. Purposely I moved towards the study door. As I neared, my heart thundered, dread worming its way into my bones. The study seemed unreachable, the hallway extending, my feet dragging through imaginary thick, unyielding mud. My rapid and shallow breathing was making my chest ache. Fear tugged at every nerve. 

Eventually, I stood in front of the study door. I could hear footsteps coming up behind me, but, focused on the study door, I didn't turn to check who approached. Slowly, tentatively, I pushed the door open. 

I so hoped that what I saw was just a horrible party trick—some heinous prank—sick and twisted. It couldn't be real. It couldn't!

There on the floor, amid a spreading pool of blood, lay my father, his eyes open wide yet lifeless, just like the marble bust on his desk.

And standing over him was Raif Daniels.

******

Bria's mum is so cold. Do you think she is also deceitful?

And what about the Mayor, Alaric Henderson - is he to be trusted? What is this mentor arrangement all about, do you think?

And Raif! Did he murder Bria's father? Or is he an innocent bystander?

Word Count: 2632

Running Total: 15,087