Chapter 1
Abbie
This was it. Alpha Brock would finally
put an end to my misery today. I turned eighteen a few weeks ago, though I was surprised he didn‘t jum
p to put me down that very day. Death was the least of my fears, no, my
biggest was being put up for auction and being sold to
the butcher. Vile man, despicable. I shudder at the
thought and suck in a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. I would kill myself before I ever let
myself be ced in his hands.
Doyle would not have me, no
he would not be allowed to vite me further, and I knew Ivy would understand. She knew the pain he
caused me, though we never spoke of it. Yet even she knew what he did.
If only she hadn‘t climbed on that chair next to me, the rope would have held my weight and my
misery would have ended that fateful day.
Although the very thought of
leaving Ivy with the headmistress, Mrs. Daley, made bile rise up my throat. Wicked old bitch, I couldn’t
stand her. Especially after what she just
did to us. My back stung, but I knew the markings thatshed my skin was nothingpared to the whi
pping Ivy just got. All because she gave us too many chores, more than usual
king was visiting today. As if we cared he would just be another to torment us if given the chance.
I flinch as I ce the rag doused in medicinal herbs on her skin. She tried not to move or cringe, but I k
new it must be burning like crazy. I quickly swipe a stray tear from my cheek, reminding myself it would
be over for both of
us very soon. Eight horrendous yearster and we would finally be free of this ce, this life and I coul
dn‘t wait. Death.
ARTIDE
Most would think it morbid to wish for death,
but death would be more pleasant than the life we are living in this orphanage. Housed by
the very pack that killed our parents, the alpha ughtered them right in front of us mercilessly. Grabbi
ng a bandage, I started wrapping it around her torso. Ivy shudders and grips the duvet on the
bottom bunk, fisting it trying to hide the pain she was in. I sniffle, trying
to stop myself from crying. Goddess knows Mrs. Daley would punish us worse if she saw a tear.
LA
Once I had finished dressing her wounds I reached for her blouse and helped her pull it on, while un–
tucking her raven hair as it bunched up inside the blouse. I smiled sadly at her, hoping that the little
herbs would help remove some of the pain for her. Ivy swallows and nudges me, taking the leftover rag
s and tapping me in a
silent message to turn around. Ivy dab‘s the wounds on my back with a wet cloth to clean
them, though mine were more just raised skin and stung a little, hers were deep gashes. When
Ivy has finished she squeezes my arm gently and I bull my blouse back on, hissing as my
shoulders move.
Ivy watches me and silence falls between us. This was it today the Alpha would end us and if I
had to go out I was d I had Ivy by my side. I would be lying if I said I wasn‘t
a little scared. It made me wonder if I would be reunited with my parents. Gosh
how I missed them. It had been so long I almost forgot what they looked like.
Reaching my hand out Ivy ces her calloused one in mine and I look around the orphanage bedroom,
the room lined with bunks, for the children we looked after for eight years. I would miss
them. I give Ivy‘s hand a squeeze and she squeezes mine back, but I don‘t let go as we walk out of
the bedroom.
We walk up the long corridors, passing each room and it saddens me knowing I would not wake up tom
orrow to little faces to clean, and little hands dragging
us from our bed to make them breakfast. The children here were the only good
thing about this ce. As we passed each room, I
hesitated at Tyson‘s door. I worried who would look after him, he is non–
verbal and had a severe learning disability that Mrs. Daley refused to have him tested. I worried
whether he
would get fed or would Mrs. Daley lock him away again like she did when he first came here. He was s
uch a sweet boy, just misunderstood.
MU
Emotions threatened to choke me as I look at his little bed, the little bed I would sometimes climb into in
the middle of the night to soothe his night terrors. The little bed filled with his
scent. If I wasn‘t going to my own funeral, I would take him with me, but death was no
ce for him. He deserved the world and I hoped one day he would have it at his little fingertips. It took
all my willpower to keep walking. This would be thest time we walked these halls, thest time we sa
w the little faces we helped clean and the little hands we held. The corridors are silent as we descend t
he spiral staircase to the floor below.
Yet as we reached the bottom, the weight lifted off me. We were finally free, free of this life and free of
Mrs. Daley and I would no longer have to hide whenever the butcher came to drop off meat. I would no
longer have to see his face again after today. With that thought in mind I looked at lvy, knowing she wa
s feeling the exact same thing as me. We endured enough and today our suffering ended along with ou
r lives.
“Let‘s go home,” I whispered to her.
Ivy pushed on the double
doors leading to the small courtyard out front, the porch creaked under our feet and I saw the kids yi
ng out the front on the run–down y equipment. I lost count of the amount of times I
have had to patch the kids up after falling from it or pulling
splinters from tiny feet and hands. We stepped out into the bitterly cold air though the cold had never re
ally bothered me. I spent majority of my life on autopilot anyway, barely feeling anything, but it was one
thing I could say Mrs. Daley had taught me. She taught me that emotion gets us nothing. That pain, an
d tears won‘t save us, and she taught me just how
easily someone could break another. The day she locked me in that damn basement with the butcher.
After that day I learned it was better not to feel just switch it off, it is what it is.
The day was overcast, the clouds hiding the sun
making it gloomy. The grey clouds were low, and it looked like it would rainter in the day
–
The kids stop what they‘re doing and rush over, grabbing and reaching for
us, wanting us to y. Tears threaten to bubble and spill but I fight them back looking for my
boy and enjoying seeing them onest time when a car pulls up and parks on the curb. It is sleek
and ck, the windows tinted so darkly that we can‘t see who is inside, Yet I don‘t care because I notic
e Tysone
over to me. His plushie in his hand, and it was missing an eye that I had sewed on one too many times
before giving up.
His eyes were ssy. The kids had no idea where we were going yet looking at Tyson‘s little face I felt
he knew; he knew I wasn‘ting
back and seeing the distress on his little face broke my heart as I scooped him up.
“Shh, don‘t cry, don‘t cry,” I
whisper, kissing his temple. He was skinny and fit perfectly in my arms. “You be a good boy, try to stay
away from Mrs. Daley okay, and wait for Katrina. Katrina is good, remember,” I tell him and he nods sa
dly, clutching my neck. Ivy brushes her fingers through his hair. Both of us had a soft spot for Tyson, He
was only a few days old when his parents were killed and he was a colicky baby, the first year of his
life I hardly slept and when I did catch a few moments, it was because he was on my chest and now I
was leaving him to this horrid woman.
I inhale deeply, soaking in his scent onest time, savoring it as I silently prayed to the
moon goddess to not let anything happen to him.
1
Ivy nudges me, telling me we should go, and I ce him down when I notice the car was still parked by
the curb.
passenger door opens and two men hop out. They are dressed well, in clean crisp clothes, not a hair o
ut of ce and looked picture–ready. Neither looked like what I would expect so–
called royalty to look like. Mrs. Daley rushes out in a hurry. She looked like a mutton dressed up as a
mb. The old hag had changed into a super tight pencil skirt and blouse, having popped
the first two buttons open as if either of these men would be interested in her wrinkling old floppy tits. T
hey would look like a golf ball in a sock, I had seen her naked once and
I can tell you she had old floppy tits and sported a 70‘s afro that would need a hedge trimmer. Scarred
my eyeballs and Ivy and I snickered about it for weeks afterward. I try not to
laugh and let Ivy tug me along to meet Alpha Brock.
Mrs. Daley looks over at the
two men as they approach the small brick fence surrounding the ce. “You must be?” she stops trying
to figure out who they are. “I thought the Lycan King wasing today?” Mrs. Daley asks, looking slig
htly upset. I nod toward them, and Ivy shrug, looking them over.
“He couldn‘t make it, so he sent us instead,” says the man who hopped out of the driver‘s seat. He was
tall, dressed in a suit, and
had blonde hair that shaped his face. Another man got out of the car behind that one, and he had darke
r features. His lips set in what looked like a permanent scowl, and his jaw was clenched tight and hand
s fisted at his sides. He stood at the back
of his car and lit a smoke and I watched as he dragged back on it and nearly stumbled over my own fee
t as Ivy pulled me along. For some reason I found him intriguing, but I shake my head and the thoughts
away. There was something dark and sinister about that man. His dark eyes looked me over
before his eyes went to mine. The endless pools of darkness stared back at me and he smirked, makin
g me tear my eyes away from him and pay attention to where I was walking.
Lycans are different from werewolves; they remained upright when they shifted and were more powerful
human; I had shifted on my eighteenth birthday and what a horrific experience that was, especially when
I was too loud. Lycans, however, are purebloods and lethal beasts.
Lycans are also immortal
though a dying species, go figure. As we stepped out the gate a man I hadn‘t noticed before stepped int
This manmanded attention, seemingly without trying. His suit did nothing to hide the bulk of muscle
away from
him, yet Ivy stared back almost mesmerized by him when he cocks his head to the side, watching her. I
“We should go.” I
whisper I didn‘t want to leave Alpha Brock waiting, he would make our death particrly heinous, and Iv
men were
looking at her. We walk out the small gate when the man with silver sparkling eyes grips Ivy‘s arm tuggin
I gasped as his eyes flickered. Movement out of
the corner of my eyes made me see the man who was smoking toss his cigarette to the gutter a curious
his face as he watched the man holding Ivy‘s arm.
“Rogue?” The man says, and my grip on her hand tightens, the way he looked at her was as
if he wanted to devour her. He turns his attention toward Mrs. Daley and lets her arm go before looking
at
me and I quickly drop my gaze, as we both duck our heads in submission. The man growls and Mrs. Da
way she sneered at lvy.
“Yes, sir, they are just on their way. Run along, girls,” Mrs. Daley says, and we both nodded and I tug on
We made our way into town. This side of the town was run–
down, and thewns were overgrown, litter filled and clogged the gutters and leaves coated the ground
as we walked. Most of the houses had
been destroyed by a storm that blew through the town a few months ago, leaving most homes
abandoned.
There was only one way in and out of this town as it only had only road leading in. The forest surroundin
us secluded from any human towns, packs tended to stick to themselves and after years
of hiding they eventually forgot about the werewolves and we became
folklore or myth. Yet all myths and legends started somewhere and that was usually with a version of tru
Both syy and I looked to the forest longingly. If only
we could escape. I sighed the only freedom we would get was with
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