=Max=
"Max, Max." A familiar voice calls out, and I turn to see a woman approaching me. "I thought I wouldn't see you here."
I smile when I recognize Alexia, an old friend. "Why not?"
She grins, brushing a lock of her red hair over her shoulder. "Because of last year. I thought you swore off these things for good."
I chuckle softly, and she steps forward to wrap her arms around me. "So," she says as she pulls back, eyes glinting with mischief, "are you excited to see all the pretty boys and girls tonight?"
I shrug, pretending not to care. "You know I don't believe in these events. But I could use a bit of fun, I guess."
"Whatever you say," she teases, linking her arm through mine and tugging me toward the front of the hall. "Come on, there are some people you might want to meet."
I let her lead the way, careful not to step on the hem of her long red dress that keeps threatening to trip me. The fabric glimmers with each step she takes, drawing eyes from every direction.
Ahead of us, a small group of men and women are gathered close together, their attention fixed on a phone screen. When we get closer, I see that they are watching a video, probably of the humans and other guests waiting in the adjoining hall. The camera seems to linger on the women in tight dresses far longer than necessary.
I grin and shake my head. "You don't think I'm actually interested in that, right?"
"Of course not," Alexia says, smirking. "But it doesn't hurt to take a look at them before they see us. That way, they won't be crowding around you later."
Her words make a memory from last year flash through my mind. It wasn't so much that people crowded around me, but rather that they had crowded around her, and I had gotten caught in the middle of it all. I still remember the noise, the heat, the way everyone pressed too close. The memory alone makes my skin prickle. I have never liked big events. I am too quiet for them, too still, too out of place.
I take a few steps back, leaning against the wall and trying to blend into the background. Alexia, meanwhile, is laughing again, already caught up in conversation with her friends.
Looking around, I take in the sight of everyone gathered here. Dozens of Alphas, all single, all looking for a mate. It should feel intimidating, but somehow it doesn't. Being surrounded by so many of them actually makes them seem more ordinary. When everyone in the room carries that same strength, that same energy, the word "Alpha" loses some of its shine.
It's not even about size or height. Alexia, for example, barely reaches the shoulders of most men here. In her flowing red dress, she looks delicate, almost fragile, like some polished little flower. But I know better. Underneath all that softness, she is a fighter, a martial artist who has been climbing the ranks in the army and leading her pack with precision and strength.
She could take down half the people in this room without breaking a sweat. Yet tonight, in her dress, with her hair pinned up and her perfume filling the air, she is just another young woman enjoying an evening among equals.
And somehow, that makes her even more impressive.
It's this part of the evening that I actually enjoy the most, the time before things get complicated. The air feels lighter, easier to breathe. Everyone's relaxed, laughing, chatting, pretending that this is just another social gathering instead of what it really is.
For now, we're all the same, all here for similar reasons, even if some won't admit it.
It's only later, when the other packs arrive and the humans are added to the mix, that the tension starts to rise. The atmosphere shifts.
People begin to size each other up, and suddenly the air feels thicker. But with enough alcohol, even that can be smoothed over.
There are plenty of people here, plenty of choices, and the event organizers have made sure to set very clear rules on behavior.
Those rules might sound harsh, but they are necessary. When you put more than sixty Alphas in one room and surround them with an endless buffet of available partners, strict limits become a matter of survival.
Across the room, a man and a woman step forward and push open a set of tall double doors. Their voices carry easily over the noise.
"If everyone could come this way, please. We'll start announcing names. Once your name is called, you'll walk down the stairs to the main hall. We'll announce you in pairs, one male and one female."
The woman continues, "At the bottom of the stairs, someone will be waiting for each of you. You're expected to dance with your partner for a short while before the next group comes down."
"How long?" someone behind me calls out.
The pair exchange a quick look, then the man answers, "Let's say about five or so couples at a time. That should keep the floor filled nicely until everyone's been announced." He gestures toward the open doors. "When we call your name, please come to the front."
When my turn comes, I focus on keeping my expression calm and collected as I make my way down the stairs. My arm is linked with Alexia's, and her steady presence beside me helps me hold it together. She gives my arm a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to remind me that this isn't the first time we've faced something nerve-wracking together.
We grew up in neighboring packs, our families always in contact. I've known her long enough to understand that she can sense every flicker of unease I try to hide.
At the bottom of the stairs, the crowd's attention turns toward us. Dozens of eyes follow our steps as we descend into the glow of the main hall. It feels strange to be on display like this, but I try to ignore it and focus on what comes next.
Once we reach the floor, we separate. Each of us takes the hand of our assigned partner and begins the opening dance. They might send us down in pairs, but Alexia and I would never work well together on the dance floor. We'd both try to lead, and that would end in disaster.
The girl I've been paired with looks young, maybe in her early twenties, while I'm already approaching the next decade of my life. Still, she's tall, which helps. At least I don't have to hunch awkwardly as we move. Her hand is soft in mine, and she carries herself with the kind of nervous grace that makes me think she's new to all this.
She looks up at me with a smile. "Are you looking forward to the rest of the night?"
"Sure," I say, keeping my tone light. "Just as soon as this part's over." I give her a quick wink.
She laughs quietly and nods. "I get it. But they want us to dance male-female for these introductions. Not much we can do about that."
"True," I agree, matching her rhythm as we move through the slow waltz.
She hesitates for a moment, her eyes darting toward Alexia, who's dancing nearby. "Hey, could you introduce me to the woman you came down the stairs with? If you know her well, that is."
A soft blush colors her cheeks, peeking through the makeup.
I raise an eyebrow, amused. It looks like Alexia has already caught someone's attention.
"I will." I steer us in a new direction, guiding her gently as the music shifts. "How long do we have left?"
"Two couples," she says, exhaling softly as if she's been waiting for this moment all night.
The event might be called a Mating Ball, but the name is about as serious as the rules that come with it. The organizers don't really care who ends up with whom. Everyone here already knows I'm not interested in women , or at least, most of them do. Still, tradition matters to these people, and this little dance between a man and a woman is one of those things they insist on keeping alive.
What happens afterward is up to us. No expectations, no obligations, just a few polite gestures and then everyone can go about their night however they want.
The girl in my arms lets out another sigh just as the final names are called. Relief flashes across her face, and I feel it too. Finally, we're free.
As soon as the song ends, we slip back into the crowd. The noise, the movement, the flashing lights, all of it blends together. I spot Alexia across the room, already moving toward another group of people, and I make my way in her direction, the girl from the dance following beside me.