The air hung thick with the cloying scent of pine and something else, something cloyingly sweet that reminded me of overly perfumed old ladies and forced cheer. It was the scent of the Mating Celebration, clinging to the humid Oregon night like a stubborn burr. I stomped along the deserted pavement, my mood as dark and brooding as the fast-approaching storm clouds overhead. The library had been my escape, but even the quiet rustle of pages and the familiar smell of old books hadn’t been enough to calm my irritation.

The pack's obsession with this archaic tradition grated on me more than I cared to explain. That, and the fact that my family had booted me out of my home in Colorado and shipped me off to stay with my aunt here in Oregon almost a week ago now.

The distant sounds of laughter and music drifted through the air. It annoyed me. I couldn’t understand why everyone put so much stock in finding their 'destined mate.' The whole concept felt oppressive, like we were all just pawns in some preordained plan. The idea of 'mates' meant that there was no room for free will, and that was something that just never sat well with me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of my thoughts. It was a message from Jenna, my best friend from back home. She had sent a screenshot of Liam’s latest I*******m post. There he was, cozying up with some girl I’d never seen before, their heads close together, smiling. Just beneath, the image was captioned with a heart emoji. My stomach tied itself in knots, a lump forming in my throat. "Unbelievable," I muttered, feeling a surge of betrayal. I needed to confront him… immediately.