The rest of the weekend had been a little awkward.

The sparks had begun, and Avery jolted every time Roman touched her, even if it was just a brush off as he walked by.

Roman was falling hard and fast, and the four days together only solidified that.

Nobody had caught on yet, and Avery had no idea how.

The lie they had created was that their wolves had imprinted on each other. Although it caused some raised eyebrows, since imprinting wasn't really done in modern times, her parents had simply accepted it, nodding along with the excuse if anyone questioned it in front of them.

Light, silky scarves had been Avery's go-to accessory to hide her mark.

It was the middle of summer, so she couldn't exactly start wearing polo-neck jumpers.

Roman had it easy - he just wore collared shirts whenever they had to go and be around people.

"That was fun," Avery grumbles, yanking her scarf from around her neck and flinging it onto the bed as she itches.

"Stop scratching, you'll make it worse," Roman reprimands without looking up from his phone as he unbuttons his shirt, folding it with one hand while he continues to frown at his screen.

"Are all of your fighters ready for tomorrow?" He asks, and she sighs, rubbing her temples.

"They say they are, so hopefully they're not lying. How about yours?" She questions as she slips her long skirt off, flinging it into her suitcase.

"I have no idea. They're all so nervous that they can't even form a sentence, so we'll see how they do," he sighs, picking her skirt up and folding it for her.

She stares at him in confusion, shaking her head as he places it gently into her suitcase again.

"It'll get creased, you said you might wear it to go home on Thursday," he grumbles, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

They were sharing a room at the Trials.

Alphas were only allowed to bring their fighters and three generals, and rooming situations varied.

The fighters were housed in hotel rooms or dorm rooms, depending on their age and skill level.

The generals and Alphas buddied up with their respecting ranks and shared rooms.

Avery and Roman had offered to share a room to take some of the confusion out of the process, and the girl at the front desk had looked so relieved she may have cried.

"Do you think they're prepared for the Trials?" Avery asks after a few minutes of silence, and Roman shrugs.

"My pack has never focused on fighting education for the youths, which meant we came in at the bottom of the ranks for a few years. The fighters here today have never fought in one of these situations before, so to be truthful, I have no idea if they're prepared. We should have exposed them to this sort of thing from earlier on in their lives, but we were peace believing," he grimly states, and Avery climbs onto the bed behind him, wrapping her arms around him.

They both shiver as the tingles run through them everywhere they're touching.

"It'll be okay," she nods, and he sighs.

"I hope so," he mutters.

She gently runs her fingers along his biceps, kissing his shoulder and then abruptly letting go.

"Okay, we have to go check on the kids for final inspection," she nods firmly, slipping a pair of formal trousers and a silk blouse on.

She tucks a new scarf into it and fusses with the material for a minute or two while Roman watches her, amusement clear on his face as his lips quirk up and his eyes crinkle.

"You're so odd," he laughs, grabbing a fresh shirt from the wardrobe where he hung his clothes up.

"Okay, are we covered from every angle?" Avery asks, turning her head slowly for him to check.

"I can't see it, as much as I want to," he laughs, buttoning his last button and then leaning down to tie his shoes.

She slips on a pair of flats, cringing as she tries to walk in them.

"I told you not to wear the heels for that meeting," he shrugs, and she glares at him.

"The heels went with the skirt, I had to wear them, or it would have looked awful," she snaps, shaking her head at him as she tentatively steps around the room to get used to being on flat ground.

"The male Alphas felt intimidated, you could tell," Roman smirks, and Avery lets out a little laugh.

"Why, because I'm tall? They can get stuffed, if they have such an issue with it, why don't they wear heels?" She snorts, "drag queens do it all the time."

Roman dissolves into a fit of giggles, his cheeks going red as he doubles over.

"Are you picturing Scott as a drag queen?" Avery asks, peering into the mirror as she fixes her blood-red lipstick.

"Yep, with blue eye shadow," he snorts, pulling himself off the floor.

He had sat down as soon as he started laughing, because Booker knew that they would be floored one way or another during their uncontrollable cackling.

"Why Scott?" Avery asks curiously, glancing at him as she fixes her makeup quickly.

"He'd be a beautiful drag queen," he shrugs, his smile splitting his face as he begins to tie his tie.

Avery glances at the clock and releases a swear, noticing him fumbling with the silky material in his hands.

She slaps his hands away and quickly ties it herself, grabbing her clutch, the room key, and his hand, and then fleeing the room as quickly as possible.

"How much time do we have?" He asks, and she hurries over to the elevator before responding.

"About five minutes to get there, or our teams could be penalised," she cringes, willing the elevator to hurry up.

Roman slams the button harder, and it immediately beeps, the doors opening.

Two terrified looking teenagers in dress uniform stare at them as they get into the elevator.

Roman nods to them and Avery gives them a toothy smile.

"Are you going to your inspection?" She asks, and they nod, their eyes wide and mouths slightly open.

"Is it your first inspection?" She questions, and one of them nods their head, while the other one shakes her head.

"You'll be fine; I remember my first inspection. Do you remember yours, Ro?" She asks, glancing at her mate.

He raises an eyebrow, clears his throat, and tries to relax his body to try and appear less threatening.

"Uh, yeah, I do," he coughs, rubbing his throat awkwardly.

As soon as the doors open, Roman is the first one out, followed by the two teenagers.

Avery frowns, stepping out after them and linking arms with Roman.

"Why did you all run?" She pouts, and he rolls his eyes playfully, pressing a kiss to her temple after he glances around.

"Ave, they were about to throw up. Could you not smell it?" He asks with a grin, and she shakes her head.

"Were they afraid of us?" She asks quietly, and he releases an 'aww'.

"No, I don't think so. As we stepped in I could smell it; I think they're just nervous about their inspections," he reassures her, rubbing her hand gently as they enter the inspection hall.

She releases his hand, pushing her shoulders back and her chin up.

See you in a while, she mindlinks him, and he sends her a grin, marching over to where his fighters stand.

Avery marches to where her own fighters are, her face completely blank and her stature radiating dominance.

Some of the lesser Alphas cringe as she walks by, as do their fighters, flinching away from the aggressive power source.

Sonya is saddened by this because she hates when people are unnecessarily afraid of her, but she has to put on the strongest show she can for her fighters, to give the image that they too are strong and dominant.

She comes to a halt in front of the five rows of teenagers who all salute her after she shouts for them to be at ease.

She glances around, making sure all of them are there.

She frowns when she realises one of the younger boys isn't present, and one of the older females quickly links her.

He just vomited before we walked in, the Generals know and are with him trying to calm his nerves, she informs her Alpha, and Avery raises an eyebrow, nodding to the girl in thanks.

Her Generals should have linked her and told her that information instead of her having to search for it, but she makes a mental note to ask them about it later.

Why are you so miserable looking?, Roman asks her, and she jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion in her head.

My Generals screwed up again, she grumbles back, and Roman visibly winces as he stares at his fighters.

How badly?, he asks, walking through his ranks and straightening up his fighters.

They can lose points for lousy posture during their inspection, and he wasn't risking their ranks because of a slight slouch.

The Trials ranked all of the fighters by age range, and then by strength, pitting pack member against pack member, friend against friend.

It didn't carry any stigma nowadays, because people knew that there were different vocations - pack doctors and nurses didn't need to be brilliant fighters, and Council members don't need to be able to wield swords or guns.

It was merely a competition to see who was the best from the packs, and the Wilcott pack always came out on top.

Avery's pack wasn't typically burly or muscular, but they were fast by nature, and they were excellent in hand to hand combat. This was well known, but they were a force to be reckoned with, especially in the Trials.

In her day, Avery had come in first place, beating many of her male counterparts who were now also Alphas.

The title had embellished her resume when she was considered for any positions, and it enabled her to gain a place on the Rogue Panel with ease.

Well, they could have done worse, but I'm still annoyed about it, Avery sighs.

The boy missing from her ranks appeared and slotted into his place in the third row, his face pale and his hands shakey.

He makes eye contact with a concerned Avery and gives her a smile and a nod.

She returns the nod firmly, sending an unexpected smile in his direction, which makes his cheeks redden slightly.

A whistle blows, and Avery nods again, waiting for the other Alphas to flutter over to their fighters before she approaches hers.

The ranks break, and they gather around Avery, who towers over most of them as she looks at each of them.

"You're here to do your best. We don't care if you win or if you lose, just do your best. Eighteen-year-olds, this is your last chance. Just do your best, and we'll be proud of you no matter what," she announces, and some of the girls fighting tomorrow titter nervously.

"Thirteen and fourteen-year-olds, you're here to observe and practice. If you get called to fight, do your best. If you don't, you'll have four or five more years to be on the board," she continues, her eyes landing on the younger teenagers in her ranks.

They all look terrified, and Avery reels in her dominance, releasing a comforting aura instead.

I'm talking to their wolves, don't worry, Sonya comments and Avery relaxes a little.

"There is to be no shifting tonight. There will be no fighting, no name-calling, and no acts of utter stupidity like we saw last year," she warns them sternly, and some of the older boys chuckle among themselves.

"Don't worry, Alpha, there'll be no kidding around, we actually want to win," one of them grins.

"Well, let me give you a word of warning... If I'm woken up during the night for any reason, I will get revenge on you all tomorrow," she smirks, making eye contact with each of the older wolves.

They all laugh, grinning at their Alpha.

"I mean it. You'll regret waking me up. If something happens, of course, don't be afraid to come and get me, but don't wake me up because you made a mess," she reasons, and they all nod.

"We're here to do our best, and to show everyone what our pack is made of. The Generals, your parents, and all of the pack and myself are proud of you for even getting this far," she promises, grinning at them all.

"Are there any questions?" She asks, giving them a minute or two to think.

"Okay, I'm going to have you fall back into your ranks, and I'll get an inspector over here to examine you all," she nods, "and then you can go to dinner after you change out of your uniform."

The kids all nod and then step back, arranging themselves by rank and order before they stand to attention.

Avery looks around the room, nodding to some of the Alphas that surround her that she knows.

Her eyes settle on Alpha Carlton, and she scowls, her eyes roving over his almost entirely male ranks.

He has two females with him, and they both look hugely uncomfortable as they stand on the edge of the circle.

She isn't happy that her niece is going to be growing up under such a misogynist, and she fully plans on instilling a tremendous amount of self-confidence into Bronwyn as soon as she can speak.

Avery marches over to an inspector, quickly informing him that her pack is ready for inspection.

The inspector simply nods, following after her to check on her pack, clipboard in hand after some searching at the inspector's table.

Avery comes to a halt in front of her pack, clearing her throat and resting her hands flat down by her sides as she gets ready to instruct them.

"Whenever you're ready, Alpha Wilcott," the inspector nods.

Avery feels a rush of pride shoot through her as he addresses her by her title, and she lets the small smile remain on her lips as she slowly lets some of the dominance in her flit out.

"Pack, stand to attention," she roars, nearby packs and Alphas turning to watch the first inspection of the evening.

Her pack moves in a fluid movement; nobody left behind.

Their feet slam onto the concrete floor at the same time, producing one loud bang.

Okay, that went well, Sonya breathes nervously.

The second boy in the third row, Roman links her, and Avery focuses on the child he mentions, nodding to the boy in question.

The boy gives her a firm nod back, straightening up as much as he can.

"Pack, prepare to march," she calls, tilting her head back a little to make sure her voice is as loud as possible.

Her fighters hold their breaths, waiting for the command that will choose their inspection markings.

"On three, from the left, march," Avery announces, counting to three slowly and steadily.

Like clockwork, the fighters all march perfectly, walking around the perimeter of the room in exact unison.

This is the best team we've had, Sonya states gleefully.

Avery may not have been Alpha before, but she took a keen interest in the Trials every year, a task York happily delegated to her because of his lack of fighting experience.

"On the right, halt," Avery booms, causing her fighters to stop on the count of three in their ranks.

There's a little scuffling as they come to a stop, but she accepts that happily.

It's much better than what she's had to deal with in previous years.

"Junior Generals, check your ranks and prepare your charges for inspection," she announces, and the oldest members step forward, turning sharply in sync and then walking down the lines to the last person in their row.

They survey the person from head to toe, asking a series of hushed questions, waiting for everyone to be done with their first person before they move to the next.

Avery can hear whispers of surprise and awe from some of the other Alphas, and she hides a smirk, trying not to explode with pride.

She's immensely proud of her fighters, and the inspector seems to be impressed as he ticks boxes on the page in front of him.

"Alpha, we have completed our surveys," one of the boys' barks with his eyes straight forward, and Avery nods.

"Pack, prepare for inspection," she orders finally, and all of her pack members move to stand at ease, their hands going behind their back and their legs spreading a little to stand in a more comfortable position.

Avery releases a little breath as the inspector ticks each pack member off his list, writing down their uniform scores.

Relax, it's all good, Roman quickly informs her, the marching was perfect from here.

Avery has a small smile on her lips again after this information is released to her.

You're up next. He has your clipboard in his hands, Avery informs him, and he curses on their mindlink.

Don't make the kids march unless you're sure they can do it, stick to footwork if you need to; they're confident with that, she suggests to him, observing the inspector as he reaches the final line of her fighters.

They don't want to march, I'm not going to make them, he tells her, and she nods to herself.

I'll come over and watch them now after I dismiss my kids, she hurriedly sends before cutting off the link and walking to where her fighters are.

"Pack dismissed," she announces, and the kids all salute her and then break rank.

They gather around her excitedly, raising their eyebrows.

"How did we do? Was the marching good?" One of them asks first, and Avery stares at them blankly before she lets a grin erupt on her face.

"It was brilliant. Get out of here unless you want to watch the Lancaster pack," she winks, and most of them nod.

A few of them leave, but most of them stay, interested in seeing how some of the packs they know do.

She encourages interpack friendships, and most of her allies are the same because they know mates can be found anywhere.

The Trials were somewhere quite common for mates to be found, and it was one of Avery's favourite things about the event.

Avery and some of her fighters wander over to where Roman and his pack are, and Avery nods to him, sending him a grin and a thumbs up.

Some of the other inspections are being carried out, because only a few of the packs ever march.

If there is marching, it's done individually so as to assure everyone can hear the commands clearly.

Three of the packs she can see being inspected don't even do the footwork, hence their quick inspections.

I'm shitting a brick, Roman informs her, and Avery scrunches her nose up.

I hope you don't mean literally, she scoffs.

His pack organises themselves into their lines, and Avery grins at some of the kids.

You're going to be okay, just be clear, she warns him, and he glances in her direction, giving her a smirk.

I'm nothing if not clear, he informs her, and she raises an eyebrow.

Roman four months ago wasn't. If he's still here, I'm afraid these kids will come in the bottom twenty, she sighs dramatically, forcing herself to keep her smile hidden.

Oh, get stuffed, he responds playfully, hiding a grin as he clears his throat and faces his prepared pack.

He instructs his pack in a range of movements, having them salute him in different ways and do some turns Avery wasn't expecting.

He has them march in a much smaller formation, just to display that they definitely have the ability.

They're doing great, Avery cheers him on, and he sighs.

They're much better than some of the other teams, but we didn't practice all of this footwork, he grumbles.