The excitement in the air is infectious as Avery enters the room, a grin on her face.

As soon as she enters, the teenagers release a roar, startling the nearby packs into moving away.

Avery has to stop herself from snorting out loud at the sudden fleeing of the nearby people, and she barely has a chance to think about the entire thing before her pack engulfs her into a humungous group hug.

They all start talking at once, and Avery can't focus on any voices, deciding to shush them and suggest that they take turns so that everyone is heard.

"Are we all happy?" She beams, and they all hoot, the trophies being lifted aloft and wiggled about, the light beams catching the shiny metal and reflecting around the room in rainbows.

"I'm so beyond proud of you all," she grins, shaking her head in disbelief as she looks at each and every face that surrounds her.

The facial expressions on the teenagers range from simply satisfied to gleeful, all of them chattering to each other excitedly as they show each other their winnings and try to talk over each other about who had the most challenging fight, comparing competitors and the moves that they used in the ring.

Avery watches the group interact, and she shakes her head with a broad smile, folding her arms as she patiently waits for them to finish up and turn to look at her.

Gradually they do, albeit it takes a few elbows in a few ribs from some of the younger ones to each other.

"We passed on the good news to your parents and the rest of the pack, and to say they're beyond delighted is an understatement. We're going to be leaving tomorrow morning, and we'll be arriving back to a feast in celebration of your winnings. We will be on the aeroplane by 8:30 am at the latest tomorrow, because apparently it's going to be in the mid-afternoon, and I'm assuming you all want time to get ready," she grins. Most of the teenagers nod reverently, their eyes sparkling as they look at their Alpha.

"Alpha, on behalf of all of us, I just want to thank you for training us," the eighteen-year-old female who she trained personally steps forward, her trophy in her hand.

"We appreciate all of the work you put into our preparation, even though you didn't have to," her male counterpart adds, a massive smile on his usually stern face.

It's typically a Gamma's job to train the fighters, especially the teenager ones, but Avery took it on as a pet project since she had won in her day.

Most Alphas present at the fights had never witnessed their teenagers fighting or training before, and that had become clear when some of them had tried to protest that their fighters could do a lot better than they did in the ring when the poor fighter was on the ground and on the verge of passing out.

This trip was seen as a bonding trip for Alphas and their new fighters, but Avery and her pack didn't really need any bonding trips - she was active in organising fun events and regular pack parties and dinners to make sure everyone knew each other.

She didn't like people to feel left out, so she tried to ensure there was something for everyone.

"Thank you guys, I appreciate that you appreciate the work I did with you all," Avery laughs, shaking her head at the kids.

She pulls the older two that stepped forward into a tight hug, releasing them after a minute.

"Okay, I'm going to let you all go and get ready for the dinner dance now. Anyone who needs help with bruising or other injuries, go to the clinic and get all of it sorted sooner rather than later, it'll just get busier," she warns, clapping the teenagers closest to her on the backs.

"I'm very proud of you all," she hollers after them, watching her pack move in a swarm through the crowds.

"Boo," someone hisses behind her, and she releases a shriek, turning and hitting them in the throat straight away.

"Fucking hell Avery," Scott whimpers, coughing and hacking as he tries to decrease some of the pain in his neck.

"You know not to sneak up on me," she snarls, scowling at him as she turns away and walks towards the exit.

"I didn't want to be boring," he mutters, and she rolls her eyes.

"How's your hangover? Maybe I should scare you like that when you have one next time," she rumbles, and he pouts.

"You wouldn't do that to poor, mateless me," he grins, and his eyes zero in on her neck again.

"What the fuck is on your neck?" He asks bluntly, and she winces, grabbing his arm and pulling him along to outside.

Outside the preparation room is an alleyway, and it's pretty deserted bar the Alphas who are smoking cigarettes and talking on the phone.

"He marked me," she beams, and Scott's eyes widen and then turn into slits in a mere second.

"Who? Do I need to attack him?" He snarls, and Avery shakes her head quickly.

"Roman did, duh," she rolls her eyes, and he flings his arms into the air.

"Was that supposed to be obvious?" He gapes, running a hand down his face roughly, "I thought I was going crazy last night, I actually convinced myself that I was seeing things when I thought I saw a mark on you."

"Well, you're perfectly sane. I didn't - well, we didn't - want to tell anybody yet, but I suppose you don't count. So, surprise!" She grins excitedly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it energetically.

He shakes her off, using both of his hands to massage his temples, and he shakes his head.

"You've done some crazy shit in the time that I've known you, but I think this tops it off," he groans, leaning against the brick wall behind him as he glances up and down the alleyway to make sure that nobody is listening in on their conversation.

Avery frowns, trying not to get upset that one of her closest friends isn't supporting her.

He doesn't know Roman is our mate, Sonya roars suddenly, and Avery's eyes widen.

"I forgot to tell you something else, too," she starts nervously, and he releases an anguished groan.

"If you're pregnant, Avery, I will eat glass," he whines, staring at her in mild fear.

"No, no, I'm definitely not pregnant," she snorts, rolling her eyes at him with a chuckle.

"Well, I had to ask before I jumped to any conclusions," he grumbles, shaking his head at his friend as he waits for her to continue speaking.

"He's my mate," she confesses, and Scott chokes on the air he was inhaling.

"What the fuck?" He gapes at her, shaking his head like a dog with water in its ears.

"What did you just say? Because I think you just said that Roman - Roman Lancaster, of all people - is your mate. Which is impossible, because you're an Unfortunate," he blurts out, staring at her in confusion.

He looks like a child who just got told Santa Claus isn't real.

"Roman Lancaster is my mate. Apparently, Unfortunates can have mates, too, according to a scientist we met," she nods, and Scott blinks at her, running a hand through his hair.

"Am I still drunk? Can you find a breathalyser, because I think I'm still drunk," he responds blankly, sitting down against the red brick wall of the building.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," she scoffs, hauling him to his feet.

"Me and Roman can't scent each other, and apparently that's how you know if you're an Unfortunate, which makes no sense," she grumbles, hauling him back inside the building, "keep it zipped, nobody else knows."

He nods rapidly, running a hand through his hair again.

"You're going to go bald if you keep tugging on your hair like that," she comments, rolling her eyes at him as she looks around the room for Zephyr, Mike, or Roman.

"No jokes from you for the moment please, Little Miss Secret Keeper," he grunts, joining in her search.

His eyes land on Zephyr first, and he points to the strapping man who's awkwardly standing in front of his pack.

As soon as Avery arrives over, the teenagers stop shoving each other and talking over Zephyr, and he scowls a little.

He nods to Avery in greeting and then returns to trying to address his pack.

"As I was saying, I congratulate all of you on the ranks you received. You all worked extremely hard, even amidst internal pack conflict," he states, clearing his throat as he tries to figure out what else to say.

He gives up on trying to think of anything else after a minute, glumly dismissing them as he turns to the two other Alphas beside him.

Before Avery can say anything, Scott rushes to begin the conversation.

"Did you know she has a mate?" He hisses in a hushed tone, leaning in closer to Zephyr.

Zephyr bolts upright, his eyes shooting open in surprise.

"Excuse me?" He asks, and Avery turns to Scott slowly, a prominent scowl on her face as she death stares him.

"Go eat your fucking glass," she mutters, elbowing him roughly as she grabs Zephyr's bicep.

"Zip it. I'll explain it to you later," she grumbles, and he stares at her neck.

"Oh my Goddess, how did I not see that sooner?" He whispers more to himself than anything, squinting at the dainty mark.

She slaps her hand over it to cover it, quickly shrugging on Roman's sweatshirt and crossing her arms irritably.

"When I said nobody knew, nobody knew, Scott," she grunts, pushing by him and walking out of the room to go back to her hotel room.

She wants to take a nap before she has to get ready for dinner because she's had to deal with a lot of stress in the last six hours of the matches.

Cracking her neck as she waits for the elevator, she glances around at the busy lobby, not really focusing on anyone there.

As soon as the elevator doors open, she steps in, groaning when she notices the other person in it.

Why did you groan out loud, idiot?, Sonya whines, preparing herself for the onslaught of entitlement.

Avery releases some of her dominance subtly, glancing around to see if it affects Alpha Carlton at all.

He winces slightly, and she has to look away to hide the smirk growing on her face.

In theory, all Alphas are at the same level of power and dominance.

In practice, the ones who put work into mastering their craft and being good Alphas, as well as training consistently, are usually much more powerful.

Alpha Carlton is a spoiled brat, a few years younger than Avery, and decades behind in social practice.

"Would you stop doing that?" He growls after a minute, and Avery stifles her giggle.

"Stop doing what?" She asks, glancing at him and noticing his clenched jaw.

"Releasing your power," he snarls, his eyes flashing at her.

She grins and bats her eyelashes in confusion.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sighs, brushing him off as she folds her arms and faces the door.

"I don't find your attitude charming," he scowls, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

"I don't want you to find me charming. That isn't my goal in life, I'm so sorry," she says sarcastically, stepping out of the elevator before him and storming down the hallway.

"You'll never find a man like that, Wilcott," he calls after her, and she spins on her heels, her eyes wide.

"Oh, Goddess, how will she survive?" Roman answers for her, rolling his eyes as he pulls her into their room.

"I had a good response for that," she whines once the door closes, and Roman chuckles at her.

"He would have kept going until you split him in two, this way he doesn't have a chance," he snorts, patting her back as he turns on the air conditioning.

"What are you wearing to the dinner dance?" He asks curiously, and she shrugs, diving onto the bed.

"Why?" She asks, kicking off her shoes and wiggling out of her sweatshirt.

"I want to match my tie with your dress," he mumbles, a blush coming onto his cheeks as he looks over at her.

"Aww," she coos, a grin spreading across her face, "I think I'm going to wear red today."

"What shade? I thought it would be red or blue; I brought a few different ones," he nods determinedly, looking over at her from his wardrobe.

"Ruby-red. Literally the reddest colour you can find," she drawls, watching him from her cocoon of bed sheets and duvets.

He pulls one out from the wardrobe his stuff is sitting in and holds it aloft, raising an eyebrow in question to see if it's a match.

She squints at it, shrugging with a nod.

"I think it'll match," she nods, closing her eyes and snuggling into the bed.

He grins slightly when he glances over his shoulder to see her completely curled up and knocked out, shaking his head as he pulls out the ironing board from the cupboard.

He irons his suit and tie, and then glances into her bag, fishing out the only red item in there.

He chuckles softly at the number of creases littering the dress, putting it onto the board and ironing it for her.

Knowing her, she would have realised how many creases were in the material the second before they left, and they would have been late.

This way, she'll have one less thing to stress about later in the day.

He hangs both of their outfits up and then does a quick clean of the room, trying to use his energy for something helpful.

When he eventually sits down on the bed, he gets comfortable beside her with his laptop, making sure not the move too much or wake her up.

He glances at the time and decides he should probably wake her up in a little while.

An hour later, Avery awakes with a start to hear the shower water running and to see Roman missing from the room.

Sonya wakes up and puts two and two together for her, going straight back to ignoring her after a minute.

Avery reluctantly gets out of bed, rubbing her eyes to try and wake herself up slowly.

Looking around the room, her eyes land on the neatly ironed clothes hanging from the wardrobe.

A small smile climbs onto her lips as she stares at them, shaking her head slightly as she realises Roman must have sorted them out so that they didn't have to think about it later.

She checks her phone, responding to the messages from her family first, and then checking the group chat she's in with some of the guys.

She screws up her nose at some of the complaints, and she sighs, releasing a loud groan.

The shower stops, and Roman pokes his head out of the bathroom with raised eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his hair dripping water down his face.

"The guys want to do shots before dinner, but Scott is still recovering from his night last night," she grumbles, shaking her head as she gazes over at him from the wardrobe.

"Oh Goddess, I hope you said no," Roman winces, running a hand through his hair to push it back.

"Yeah, I did, I'm not being responsible for getting them all back to their rooms later," she chuckles, glancing out the window.

"Do you know how many people are going home tonight?" Roman calls from the bathroom, turning the water back on.

"I think a few Alphas are, but I'm not sure," she responds, laying the makeup she's using for the dinner dance out on the dresser.

"Oh, I thought everyone would stay for the dinner," he shouts, and she nods to herself.

"Some of the Alphas are really annoyed that they didn't rank too well, I'd say they're running home with their tails tucked between their legs," she sighs, and she reaches into her suitcase to find her hair products.

Do you want to join me in here?, Roman links her, and Avery raises her eyebrows, trying not to laugh.

No thanks, I don't want to get my hair wet, she snorts, quickly replying to some of the emails while she waits for him to get out of the shower.

As soon as he opens the bathroom door, she breezes by him, clutching towels and hair clips galore.

"We have two hours," he warns her, trying not to laugh as she glances over her shoulder at him.

"I can do this," she nods firmly, a grin spreading across her face.

She quickly showers, avoiding her hair altogether.

She shaves her legs, not sure if her dress is long enough to hide them or not.

As soon as she gets out from under the heavy stream of scalding water, she moisturises her legs, arms, and face, checking the time on the watch Roman left by the sink.

She has an hour and fifteen minutes to fix her hair, make her face look awake, and to make herself look presentable.

This will be interesting, Sonya drawls as Avery shrugs on one of the bathrobes

"You have one hundred and four minutes," Roman hollers, causing a little giggle to escape from Avery's lips as she adds some more moisturiser to her face.

"I know, dumbass," she grins, walking out of the bathroom to begin doing her hair.

She plugs in her curling iron and glances out the window as she waits for it to heat up, smiling as she notices all of the younger teenagers who competed chasing each other outside.

Roman walks up behind her and pulls her into a gentle hug, watching over her shoulder.

"Can you imagine us with a teenager?" He snorts, and she grins, leaning against him as she looks up at him.

"It will either be brilliant, or a disaster, and there would be no in-between," Avery chuckles, kissing his jaw before wiggling out of his grip and curling her hair as fast as she possibly can.

"Seventy-five minutes," he informs her from the bed once she does the last curl, and she sighs dramatically.

"My hair always takes the longest, we're actually going to be early for once," she laughs, hair spraying her curls and then clipping them back from her face.

"I'll believe that when I see it," he snorts, shaking his head at her as he continues replying to his emails, "at this rate, I'm going to be completely caught up on all my emails."

Avery rolls her eyes, slipping into her dress carefully so as not to mess up her hair.

She zips it herself and then tucks a towel around her shoulders to protect her dress from any makeup, because of all days to ruin an outfit, she knows she'd do it today.

Quickly doing a full face of makeup, she checks her face in every mirror in the room before deeming it perfect.

"Fifteen minutes," he announces as she strolls out of the bathroom with a grin on her face.

"I'm ready, darling," she grins, slipping her feet into her heels and snatching her bag from the bedside table.

He looks up from his phone only to have his jaw drop, completely overwhelmed.

She has a ruby red sweetheart neckline ballgown on, with sparkly silver heels and a silver clutch bag.

"Holy shit," he gasps, sitting up slowly as he stares at her intently, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You look beautiful," he comments, his eyes wide and his mouth still slightly open in shock.

"Oh, thank you," she laughs, re-applying her lipstick and then turning on her heel to face him.

"Are you ready?" She asks, and he grins at her, offering his arm to her.

"Yeah, my brain isn't," he gawps, blinking in surprise as she links her arm with his.

They head down to the dining hall, which looks entirely different.

It's decorated to the nines, with white lace everywhere.

It looks like a wedding reception, and Avery's jaw drops a little as she looks around the room.

"It's gorgeous," she murmurs, letting him lead her to their seats.

He pulls her chair out for her, and she sits down in it, smiling at him in thanks.