Part 1

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"Child, wake up. Today is the Choosing Ceremony!"

Ripping the sheet off my sleep deprived body, my mum yanks open the curtain exposing me to an unfortunately sunny day. I hiss, shielding my eyes from the glaring rays before covering my head with a pillow in an attempt to mute her nagging.

"Just 5 more minutes" I mumble.

"Up, now!" she says cheerfully, way too cheerfully this early, " Today's the day you find your mate!"

Shit. I'd forgotten about that. Today was the Choosing Ceremony. Essentially a glorified hook up party, a common site were Males trying to protect their fragile masculinity through freakishly large muscles and torso exposure, with the occasional tattoo across the chest. Females dressed to impress the horny unmated Males, wearing tiny pieces of material revealing way too much.

The actual aim of the Choosing Ceremony was to find your mate, but most ended up with STDs. Your mate is someone the moon goddess assigned to you from birth, and would be your soulmate for life. The strength of the mate bond means that mates are inseparable. In most cases, mates can die if they are rejected or stay away from their mate for too long.

Personally, I thought this was a load of bullshit,  but for my mother's sake, I say some crap about longing for my mate. I would do anything to keep my mum happy. Anything. After the incident, nothing was the same, and my mum's drive for me to find a mate became even more persistent.

"Honey, get up. We need to be there in 6 hours and we haven't even started your hair or make-up yet"

"I need to be there in 6 hours and you woke me up now! Wake me up in another 3 hours"

"I think not!"

Grabbing my arms, my mum half walks, half drags me out of bed to the bathroom, ordering me to shower and brush my teeth. Turning on the shower, I let the hot water wash over my body. The precious 5 minutes I have is all I need to compose myself and mentally prepare for the day ahead. Being an omega, I am the subject to all other people's whims, and being bullied apparently is high up on their list of things to do with a sixteen year old.

I mean, get your priorities straight. I hate the fact they can do whatever they want to me and I'm powerless to them. Submitting to them makes me sick. But fighting back makes it worse. So instead of lashing out and making the situation worse, I don't show them how much they are affecting me.

They might tear my hair out, cut me with knives, or 'accidentally' feed me wolves bane, I won't show them any emotion. My stony expression seems to make them more pissed off to my amusement. This is how I perfected my 'resting bitch face'.

"Honey, get out of that shower now and let me do your make up and hair"

I reluctantly switch off the shower, dry myself with a towel, and wrap a dressing gown around my body and step out of the bathroom. My mother pulls me to a dressing table.

"Sit"

Sitting down obediently, I watch as my mum grabs an assortment of makeup from a cupboard. I'm not that experienced in the field of make up, and I'm not going to lie, some of the stuff she was bringing out looked downright scary.

"There"

Standing back, and looking at me proudly, my mum clasps her hands in front of her. Holy shit. My mum must be a miracle worker because she turned me into whatever is staring back at me through the cracked mirror. I actually look socially acceptable for once, and not like the before in comparison photos.

"Thank you."

"It was no problem honey." my mum replies, wiping tears from her eyes.

Turning around, and rummaging in another cupboard, she finally produces a dress still wrapped in its plastic packaging. I carefully take it from her, as it's probably the most expensive piece of clothing I've ever seen. Loose and flowing, the soft white fabric is cinched at the waist, highlighting what little curves I have. Although it's a little on the short side, I absolutely love it..

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