Chapter 01
1.
***
(Belladonna's
POV)
To most, my boyfriend's sister is a saintly woman,
especially as she stands there, her honey-blonde hair catching the morning
rays.
But to me, she's a harbinger of doom, for the only reason
she visits my "filthy little hovel," as she calls it, is to revel in
my pain and suffering.
"I wanted to be the first to tell you," Morgan said, the
bedframe groaning as she settled on the edge of my rigid mattress—a bed that
had once been hers, gifted to her years ago simply because she was my sister.
She stares at me, her smile sharp and expectant. I realize
then—she's waiting. Waiting for me to take the bait, to ask the question she so
desperately wants to answer. With a reluctant sigh, I mumble, "Tell me what?"
Her grin sharpens, eyes gleaming like a predator toying with
its prey. "Congratulations. You're getting married!"
For a moment, I wonder, "Does she not realize that I'm
dating her brother?" I remember the promise she made the first day Matt
introduced us—that she would treat me like her own little sister.
Or maybe, just maybe, the Moon Goddess has finally granted
one of my many wishes and driven her insane.
But aside from that ridiculous statement, she looks just as
she always does.
"What?"
"Yes, silly! I had Mom and Dad keep it a secret from you as
a surprise. And well… aren't you surprised?"
I nod, though mostly out of confusion, hoping she'll keep
talking.
"And to a very nice man too. Oh, you'll like him," she says
with a chuckle—the same amused sound she makes whenever I trip and fall.
"What in the Goddess' name is she even talking about?"
I nod again, but it seems she's finished with me.
Humming to herself, she gets up and flounces away, leaving
me more confused than before.
Morgan isn't above spinning hurtful lies—in fact, it's one
of her favorite pastimes.
Despite Morgan's history of fabricating hurtful lies, a seed
of unease settles in the pit of 's stomach. A voice in the back of her mind
urges her to investigate further.
I sigh, stand, and make my way to the house.
"Look out!" I barely step aside in time to avoid being
bowled over by a woman rushing through the door I was standing in front of, a
large bundle of curtains in her arms.
I follow her inside, and immediately, a sense of unease
settles in my stomach. The house is in absolute disarray, a flurry of activity
everywhere. Professional cleaners are bustling about—a sight I've never
witnessed before, as I'm usually the one who handles all the cleaning. In the
kitchen, people are preparing food, while others are dusting every nook and
cranny, even those hidden spots I've often overlooked.
I ascend the stairs and, through the ajar door, notice my
step-parents, Drake and Jenny, seated and engrossed in a film. Upon seeing me,
Jenny remarks, "Oh good, Morgan has informed you then?"
My stepfather doesn't even acknowledge my presence, but my
mother rises, and a wave of queasiness washes over me.
This no longer feels like a joke. "Here," she says, grabbing
a dress from the floor and tossing it at my face.
It's one of hers—the same dress she always claims she's
going to toss out because its colors are fading.
"It's for tomorrow when your husband arrives. You should at
least try to look—" she pauses, giving me a once-over, "well, like you always
do."
Every conversation with her carries a veiled jab—sometimes
not so veiled. This one barely registers before the next slips from her thin,
pursed lips. "It is the Lycan prince, after all. Wouldn't want him taking one
look at you and deciding to leave," she mutters, settling back into her chair
beside Drake. "Now, go downstairs and help."
I yearn to shout at her, to declare the injustice, to remind
her that I already have a boyfriend, and to express my fear that the Lycan
prince will strip me of my cherished belongings and enslave me. Yet, years of
conditioning have sealed my lips.
"Get the hell out."
"Those were the first words my stepfather addressed to me,
and I promptly moved out of the hazardous area, closing the door behind me. I
paused for a moment, clutching the dress to my throbbing chest."
Among all the torment they've inflicted—whether it's
"accidentally" searing my skin with a hot iron, leaving me shivering outside
for minor faults beyond my control, or forcing me to wield an axe as heavy as I
am under the scorching sun—this situation is the most unbearable.
If I weren't the one confronting this rabid creature, I'd
commend them; they've truly surpassed themselves. The Lycan prince! I sneered.
How did my step-parents manage to arrange a union with the
Silver Creek Pack, the most savage pack on the world. It's bewildering.
A chill runs down my spine as I realize he'll arrive
tomorrow. Asher Aiden and his brother are the embodiment of nightmares, their
names spoken in fearful whispers even during daylight.
After finally releasing my limbs, I walk to the top of the
stairs and look down. The workers are still bustling below, preparing for a
merciless Lycan who has no regard for werewolf life to come and take me away.
And I'm expected to help them plan my own death.
This is unbearable; I can't stay in this house any longer.
I crumple the silly dress, hurry down the stairs to my small
room, toss it aside, put on some shoes, and run away.
I need to see Matt; I must be with my boyfriend.
******************************
I love him so much, my big strong wolf. Matt is everything
to me, all I ever wanted. I shouldn't have been worried. He comforted me right
away and started looking for a way out.
He quickly came up With a plan, my clever and strong
sweetheart, while I just sat there staring at pictures of the Lycan twins on
his computer. I can't help but feel bitter that their looks don't match the
cruelty in their hearts.
I'll slip away before dawn and meet him in the woods, then
we'll escape together and build a new life elsewhere. He's the third son of an
Alpha, so sooner or later, they'll give up looking for us.
My eyes remain dry as I return to the house. The chaos
continues, but it no longer matters to me. I couldn't care less! Let them do
whatever they want because I certainly won't be here to suffer the
consequences.
Throughout the rest of the day, I remain cheerful,
completing each assigned chore with a smile, and often suppressing laughter.
Tomorrow's going to be an amazing day!