The sting of Vivian's slap still burned on my cheek as I blinked away the sleep from my eyes. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, revealing the dust motes dancing in the air of my small bedroom. I'd overslept again, and the consequences were as swift as they were painful.
"You worthless girl!" Vivian's shrill voice pierced through the morning quiet. "How many times do I have to tell you? Breakfast should be ready when your father wakes up!"
I bit my lip, tasting blood. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Save your excuses," she snarled, her eyes flashing with familiar disgust. "Get dressed and get downstairs. Now!"
As the door slammed behind her, I allowed myself a moment to close my eyes and breathe. Memories flooded back, unbidden and unwelcome.
I was barely a year old when my mother, Janice, passed away. My father, Salazar, the Beta of our Moonwhisper Pack, didn't waste any time moving on. The whispers around the pack told a different story – he and Vivian Thornheart had been having an affair long before my mother's death. Within months, a pregnant Vivian moved into our home, bringing with her a storm that would never cease.
The abuse started small at first – a harsh word here, a missed meal there. But as I grew older, it escalated. Vivian's daughter, Clara, was born, and suddenly I was nothing more than an inconvenience. The dark, damp basement became my sanctuary and my prison. Days would pass without seeing sunlight, my only companions the scurrying of rats and the rumbling of my empty stomach.
And that has been the best case scenario. After I was able to do my chores, breaking a plate or forgetting to do the laundry could be a reason for me to be whipped. Vivian's whip seemed to have eyes, and every time it landed on my back exactly when I made a mistake.
It wasn't until I started school that things changed. My teachers noticed my aptitude for learning, and word got back to my father. For the first time in years, he looked at me with something other than indifference. It wasn't love, not really, but it was attention. And in my starved state, I clung to it like a lifeline.
When I graduated from high school, I was 16 years old and I wanted to see the outside world and study law at an outside university, I begged my father. The answer was a slap on the wrist and a whipping. My stepmother and sister laughed at my delusions of grandeur. She wouldn't pay to feed my bitch, so I stayed with the tribe to study management, and then what?
Shaking off the memories, I quickly dressed and applied a layer of concealer to hide the red mark on my cheek. Today was supposed to be a day of celebration – my graduation from Moon Stone Academy. At eighteen and a half, I should have been on top of the world. Instead, I felt more lost than ever.
As I made my way downstairs, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. My long dark hair was hastily pulled back, and my green eyes looked tired and wary. But it was the absence of something else that made my heart clench – where was my wolf? By now, she should have awakened, should have been a constant presence in my mind. Her absence was a painful reminder of how different I was from the rest of my pack.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity as I entered. Vivian barked orders at the house staff while Clara sat at the table, picking at her food with a bored expression. My father was nowhere to be seen.
"There you are," Vivian sneered. "Hurry up and eat. We can't have the valedictorian fainting on stage from hunger, can we?"
I grabbed a piece of toast and some fruit, forcing myself to eat despite the knot in my stomach. Clara's eyes followed me, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Nervous about your big speech, sis?" she asked, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Don't worry, I'm sure Loki will be there to support you. He's such a good boyfriend."
I ignored the jab, focusing on my food. Loki, my boyfriend of two years, had been distant lately. But I pushed those thoughts aside. Today was about my accomplishments, about proving to everyone – including myself – that I was more than just the pack's unwanted child.
The drive to Moon Stone Academy was tense. I sat in the back, going over my speech in my head while Vivian and Clara chatted animatedly in the front. As we pulled up to the school, I caught sight of Loki in the parking lot. My heart lifted, only to plummet as I saw him laughing with a group of friends, his arm casually draped over another girl's shoulders.
"Go on then," Vivian said, breaking into my thoughts. "Make us proud. It's the least you can do after everything we've done for you."
I swallowed hard and stepped out of the car, smoothing down my graduation gown. The warm summer air was thick with excitement and nerves as students and families milled about. I made my way to the auditorium, my feet feeling heavier with each step.
The ceremony passed in a blur. I sat with the other graduates, my eyes scanning the crowd for Loki. When it was time for my speech, I approached the podium on shaky legs. Taking a deep breath, I began to speak about perseverance, about overcoming obstacles, about finding strength in adversity. The words felt hollow in my mouth, but the audience seemed impressed.
And then I saw them.
Loki sat in the third row with his arm around Clara. I looked at him, maybe he thought I couldn't see? As soon as I spoke, Clara turned her head to look at him and he immediately leaned in and kissed her deeply. I could see his other hand groping her breasts, kneading them through her shirt and then all the way down to her waist, and she responded to him passionately, even as I saw their saliva pulling out silver strands. I paused too long, the auditorium silent, all eyes on me.
"I... I..." I stammered, my carefully prepared speech forgotten. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd. I caught snatches of conversation – "Isn't that her boyfriend?" "With her sister?" "How embarrassing!"
Tears stung my eyes as I gripped the podium. "Loki," I called out, my voice cracking. "What are you doing?"
Loki stood up, his handsome face twisted into a sneer. "Come on, Freya. Of course I'm kissing my girlfriend. You don't think you're still my girlfriend, do you? Someone like you, a bookworm, doesn't even react when I touch your chest, and I can't even get turned on when I see you. Dating you is a complete waste of time. And you're 18 years old and still haven't had sex, you're pathetic. I can't believe you and the sexy Clara are sisters."
The words hit me like physical blows. Clara's laughter rang out, joined by others in the audience. I stumbled away from the podium, nearly tripping over my gown in my haste to escape. Somehow, I made it outside, gulping in the fresh air as tears streamed down my face.
I don't know how long I wandered the school grounds, my mind a whirl of pain and humiliation.Until my phone rang, it was my father."Freya," he called. "It's time to go home. We're having a... celebration for you."