AMARA could smell the scent of her blood. She gazed around the refined baroque-Esque place of a high-ranked werewolf, hoping to see familiar eyes that she could ask for help. The house was spacious and cold, and there was a lounge where the owner usually accepts her guests. It was the same place where she was being tortured in pain—her eyes are the only part of her body that was still intact.
“Wake up, disgusting half-blood!”
Surrounded by loud screeching voices, she felt a solid blow to her stomach. She groaned in pain, choking up a bit of blood at the same time. All she could do was embrace herself, holding into her fractured arms while laying on the cold ceramic floor. She could not get up. Her body felt so numb. She was too weak to move, and she realized that it was merely impossible to protect herself anymore because of the excruciating pain all over her body caused by the group of full-blooded werewolves who jumped on her out of egoistic purpose and pleasure.
It was one of the usual things that kept happening throughout her life with the Crimson moon pack. These full-blooded werewolves were attacking her anytime they wanted.
As a part of Omega—who were treated as slaves all the time—, Amara became the most unfortunate creature in their territory, not only because her father was born as an Omega, but also her mother was a mere human, and so, this made her a half-human and a half-werewolf. The higher ranks in their community were despising this and thus, considering it a taboo.
The lightning struck out of the dark sky, followed by heavy rain. Amara heard them laughing till they snorted. Those groups who came from higher ranks had been bullying her for years already. Gasping for thin air, she knew she was already out of breath and could no longer scream. Her eyes were shut, and she felt that anytime soon, she could be dead.
Amara ought to take revenge. Though, she knew she was weak enough to throw a jab. Her consciousness was slowly drifting away. Her visions were gently going to a long dark tunnel as the memories flashed before her eyes.
She saw a small kid. She realized that it was her; that small suburban girl wasn't born and raised to fight. Her old man, who seemed to be the kindest creature she ever knew, taught her that their strength shouldn't be used to harm someone and to take vengeance. She was taught that a werewolf's power was a gift from the Moon Goddess. Amara knew that it is wicked to seek revenge, but deep down in her heart, there was a small voice declaring she wanted to fight. Amara's eyes opened as the loud rumble of the thunder echoed in the darkroom.
“Why don't you stand up and entertain us?” She quickly recognized Sierra's grating voice, one of the higher ranks' daughter and the keeper of the place, who kept bullying her ever since she was a child.
She remembered her dark past wherein delivering blankets caused her a lifetime trauma when she was a child. Her old man worked as a slave in the packhouse and asked her to provide the new blankets for the full blood. She was invited to come and play at Sierra's place and then, later on, uncovered the start of her brutal nightmare.
“What do you want from me?” She couldn't even breathe properly because of the blood flowing in her nose. Her rib cage was broken, her face was pale, her lips were covered with blood. However, she was determined not to die and still hold on for her dear life.
“Oh, no! We're just bored,” said Rose—daughter of the most praised warrior, and then laughed devilishly. “Don't you have a little strength to fight back? It's going to be a good match if you just knew how to fight!”
“She's a weakling. What can you expect from a cursed child who didn't get any of those magnified senses from our goddess?” Sierra commented.
She felt a sting of pain inside her chest. These words were like knives that were slowly cutting her through the bones.
Amara thought she had accepted it a long time ago, that it wasn’t a big deal if she wouldn't get those enhanced abilities and wouldn't shift to a wolf at all... but maybe she was wrong, that deep down in her heart she wanted to shift... and these thoughts will forever haunt her of wanting to become one. Even if it was too late to shift, this would be her only chance to escape in hell, to prove to them that she wasn’t cursed.
Girls her age had experienced shifting into their wolves as soon as they turned thirteen. Even some of the half-bloods in the Omega had shifted for the first time around the same ages, but that opportunity didn't happen to her. Werewolves came up with a reason why she never shifted, and that's because she was a cursed child.
And perhaps she certainly was...
“A cursed child, indeed!”
“Poor, Argus. Your stupid father made a wrong move, half-blood. He should've stayed at home instead of banging a low-life human out there. If only he used his head at least once, you shouldn't be suffering right now! You should've not been born anyway!”
“Don't you ever insult my father—” Amara repeatedly groaned when she felt another kick on her spine.
She coughed once again and tasted her blood coming out of her mouth. Another foot stepped on her face that made her vision more blurry.
"And don't you ever talk back!" Sierra shouted at her as she stepped onto her face firmly, making her feel a lot more pain in her head. They continued to beat her up with no mercy.
She breathed heavily and tried to move her hand. She was about to hold Sierra's foot so she could somehow break it when she heard the door open.
‘I must fight back’, she told herself. But she was already beaten up, almost unconscious that she could not hold on to her foot. Klaud gave Sierra her favorite poisonous spiked club, ready to hit her with a final blow.
But then a violent howling along with heavy winds from the thunderstorm broke in throughout the windows that shattered the glasses into pieces. The intense cold wind blew out the candles, turning the lounge to be completely dark. Amara was crying for help until some heavy footsteps were heard, which she knew were familiar.
The room was lighted as someone entered the room with a lamp. His eyes were blue as ice. He was tall, sculpted with broad shoulders. He then put down the lamp and lit up his cigar as he smoked in the room and proceeded with a long sigh.
“Would you want me to kill all of you?” he asked warily.
“Killian?” Klaud, who also harmed Amara, had spoken in sudden disbelief.
“I knew it!” Killian, one of the top warrior wolves, yelled.
“What are you doing here?” Sierra asked.
“I should be the one asking you, right? What are you doing here? You're hurting her!”
She felt a sudden warmth when Killian touched her arm. That touch gave her a sigh of relief. She's saved by this warrior, again. She couldn't count how many times Killian saved her from these ill-mannered full bloods. She couldn't thank him enough for standing up before her. He was the only person that accepted her, aside from her father.
“Remove your foot, Sierra!” Killian glared at Sierra and immediately pulled her foot away from her face. "Where are your manners? You only mug on someone who can't fight back!”
“Killian, why don't you mind—”
To their surprise, Killian growled, and in one swift move, he was able to push Sierra on the wall, cornering her with all his strength. Sierra's face was disconcerted.
“What the heck, Killian!” Sierra hissed.
“Why don't you mind your own business, Sierra? Leave the half-blood alone!” He screeched with his gritted fangs.
“Get off me!” Sierra yelled at him.
“The next time this happens, I'll make sure you're going to pay for bullying her!” Killian then released her.
Amara felt at ease when Killian helped her stand up. She couldn't even make a move because of the bruises she got. He carried her out of the packhouses.
“Why did you come here, anyway? You know Sierra loves to beat the hell out of you whenever she sees you,” Killian sounded so annoyed as they walked their way to Omegas' houses.
“I needed to help my father...” she replied weakly. The pain in her stomach became more evident as they continued to walk.
Killian had to stop for a moment when he noticed her soft whimpers. He pulled up the hem of her shirt and saw the bruises on her stomach.
“You've been beaten severely this time, half-blood. We need to go to the pack doctor so your wounds will be treated,” he said.
“As if the pack doctor would treat a half-blood like me,” she replied bitterly and shook her head.
She knew it better. Every time she gets into trouble, up to the point of losing her life from the non-stop beating she gets from the full-bloods, not even once a pack doctor showed up. Her father had to treat her instead, using the herbs he usually gets in the woods. Unlike the normal werewolves that could heal a wound any moment, she couldn't heal herself at all, perhaps because she's been cursed by the goddess.
“I will still try to convince Dr. Vaugh, alright?” Killian insisted.
She let out a soft chuckle. “Whatever you say, warrior.”
“You know I'm always here for you, Amara. I don't really like it whenever they hurt you,” Killian uttered sincerely as he gazed down at her with his ice-blue eyes.
She felt her cheeks flush because of what he said. Those kind words gave her comfort. She glanced up at Killian and smiled at him.
Amara has loved Killian Montreal secretly. Even though he already found his mate and she knew it would be only one unrequited love, she couldn't find a way to end her feelings towards him.
Aside from her father, he was the only person that made her feel like she was normal—that being a half-blood was not a bad thing. He'd been protecting her since she was four years old, and now that he became an exceptional warrior in the pack, she felt more at ease.
“Thank you, Killian...” was the only thing she could say.
Her heart aches knowing the fact that Killian loves his mate so much. It was a bitter truth apart from being a half-blood. Deep in her wildest dreams, she hoped that Killian would love her and choose her over his mate, but she knew it would not happen.
Not in this lifetime, she told herself.
The storm was over when they headed to the pack doctor’s place. Killian was carrying her on his back. The surrounding was now quiet as it was only Killian's footsteps on the grass that were being heard.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The side of her lips curled up for a small smile.
I could trade everything to be this close to him and to be at peace knowing he’ll stay by my side, she thought. However, she reminded herself that Killian's heart was already taken, and her pathetic love will remain unrequited...
AS expected, Amara wasn’t treated by the pack doctor. Dr. Vaugh was busy attending to a pregnant Luna, and so, her father, Argus, aided her wounds using some herbal leaves instead at their home.She was able to take a rest in her tiny room after that. She fell into a deep sleep and only woke up when she heard her father’s loud cries. She got up immediately on the bed. Despite the injuries she got, she still managed to run towards the door. As soon as she opened it, her eyes turned to the people in their living room.There she saw her father on his bended knees, asking for mercy from the two high-ranked warrior werewolves in front of him.“Father!” she called Argus, her father.Terror started to creep into her body when she noticed the warriors' eyes. Those ruthless eyes seemed merciless, cold, and screaming of death and hatred.Her father turned and met her gaze. She was so scared that she could not make a single move.
AMARA’s wrath was ablaze. Looking down at the head of her beloved warrior, Killian, her hot tears could not stop falling. Rage started to build up inside her heart, along with the harrowing, tormenting feeling of loss and despair.The warrior wolves have shifted back to their human forms. She heard them laughing as nothing happened, mocking the death of his father and Killian, who did nothing but obey the Alpha.Amara could not find a way to accept the fact that these two important people in her life had to die for such an invalid reason. There was no way she would accept the horrible death of her father and Kilian. They were the only people she treasured and loved the most.‘Why did they have to die?’ She asked herself repeatedly. However, Amara could not get the answer to it.She sc
BEADS of sweat had formed on Amara’s forehead when she opened her eyes, forcedly waking herself up from an unwanted nightmare. She gasped as she stared at the old brown-colored thatched coconut roof. As she got up on the bed, her eyes looked around the tiny room where she was. It was dark, and the only thing that was somehow lighting up the room was the moonlight through the window.Tears started to burn her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, remembering the tragic fact that her father and Killian died unjustly.Amara cried and hugged herself. The night cold breeze embraced her skin. It was supposed to be her comfort, like how it used to be; however, at that moment, she knew that her pain wouldn’t fade away as the death of her loved ones was already pierced in her heart. It was excruciating… It was fatal.“I
THE next day... “What’s your name?” Amara asked the older woman as they walked their way into a small market outside the woods. Wearing a simple nude-colored sweater, a rust-colored skirt flowing below her knees, and a pair of rugged boots, Amara tried to act as normal as she could be. It was a good thing that the human walking beside her has clothes in the closet that fitted her slim body as if those were there solely for her. The cold air blew her brunette curly hair. She tucked some of her hair strands behind her ear as her eyes looked their way. They’ve been walking for almost an hour. Getting out of the woods had taken thirty minutes already, and they were still walking in a wet road going to the market to buy some vegetables and meat for lunch and dinner. She wondered where the older woman gets her strength to walk back and forth despite her age. Amara sighed, her breath steaming in the air. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to shield her fr
WHEN they got into the market, Amara's eyes started to observe the mortals and those occupied stores they passed by. The combined smells of fresh fruits, meat, vegetables, and other products made her nose crinkle. The loud talking of people engulfed her ears. With this enhanced hearing she gained after the night of the full moon, she can't help but feel disturbed. The quietest conversations, even miles away, can get louder whenever she tries to eavesdrop. She didn't even need to try. Right now, she is craving silence. For her, it was like an intrusion of solitude, and she felt uncomfortable and anxious about it. Letting out a huge sigh, Amara continued walking on a muddy road. It was, indeed, a busy day for the mortals. She followed Grace as the older woman walked her way to a store that sells fresh fruits, then grabbed a piece of apple. The older woman turned and glanced at her."Do you eat apples?" Grace asked curiously.Amara's brow furrowed and her forehead
WHEN they got into the market, Amara's eyes started to observe the mortals and those occupied stores they passed by. The combined smells of fresh fruits, meat, vegetables, and other products made her nose crinkle. The loud talking of people engulfed her ears. With this enhanced hearing she gained after the night of the full moon, she can't help but feel disturbed. The quietest conversations, even miles away, can get louder whenever she tries to eavesdrop. She didn't even need to try. Right now, she is craving silence. For her, it was like an intrusion of solitude, and she felt uncomfortable and anxious about it. Letting out a huge sigh, Amara continued walking on a muddy road. It was, indeed, a busy day for the mortals. She followed Grace as the older woman walked her way to a store that sells fresh fruits, then grabbed a piece of apple. The older woman turned and glanced at her."Do you eat apples?" Grace asked curiously.Amara's brow furrowed and her forehead
THE next day... “What’s your name?” Amara asked the older woman as they walked their way into a small market outside the woods. Wearing a simple nude-colored sweater, a rust-colored skirt flowing below her knees, and a pair of rugged boots, Amara tried to act as normal as she could be. It was a good thing that the human walking beside her has clothes in the closet that fitted her slim body as if those were there solely for her. The cold air blew her brunette curly hair. She tucked some of her hair strands behind her ear as her eyes looked their way. They’ve been walking for almost an hour. Getting out of the woods had taken thirty minutes already, and they were still walking in a wet road going to the market to buy some vegetables and meat for lunch and dinner. She wondered where the older woman gets her strength to walk back and forth despite her age. Amara sighed, her breath steaming in the air. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to shield her fr
BEADS of sweat had formed on Amara’s forehead when she opened her eyes, forcedly waking herself up from an unwanted nightmare. She gasped as she stared at the old brown-colored thatched coconut roof. As she got up on the bed, her eyes looked around the tiny room where she was. It was dark, and the only thing that was somehow lighting up the room was the moonlight through the window.Tears started to burn her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, remembering the tragic fact that her father and Killian died unjustly.Amara cried and hugged herself. The night cold breeze embraced her skin. It was supposed to be her comfort, like how it used to be; however, at that moment, she knew that her pain wouldn’t fade away as the death of her loved ones was already pierced in her heart. It was excruciating… It was fatal.“I
AMARA’s wrath was ablaze. Looking down at the head of her beloved warrior, Killian, her hot tears could not stop falling. Rage started to build up inside her heart, along with the harrowing, tormenting feeling of loss and despair.The warrior wolves have shifted back to their human forms. She heard them laughing as nothing happened, mocking the death of his father and Killian, who did nothing but obey the Alpha.Amara could not find a way to accept the fact that these two important people in her life had to die for such an invalid reason. There was no way she would accept the horrible death of her father and Kilian. They were the only people she treasured and loved the most.‘Why did they have to die?’ She asked herself repeatedly. However, Amara could not get the answer to it.She sc
AS expected, Amara wasn’t treated by the pack doctor. Dr. Vaugh was busy attending to a pregnant Luna, and so, her father, Argus, aided her wounds using some herbal leaves instead at their home.She was able to take a rest in her tiny room after that. She fell into a deep sleep and only woke up when she heard her father’s loud cries. She got up immediately on the bed. Despite the injuries she got, she still managed to run towards the door. As soon as she opened it, her eyes turned to the people in their living room.There she saw her father on his bended knees, asking for mercy from the two high-ranked warrior werewolves in front of him.“Father!” she called Argus, her father.Terror started to creep into her body when she noticed the warriors' eyes. Those ruthless eyes seemed merciless, cold, and screaming of death and hatred.Her father turned and met her gaze. She was so scared that she could not make a single move.
AMARA could smell the scent of her blood. She gazed around the refined baroque-Esque place of a high-ranked werewolf, hoping to see familiar eyes that she could ask for help. The house was spacious and cold, and there was a lounge where the owner usually accepts her guests. It was the same place where she was being tortured in pain—her eyes are the only part of her body that was still intact.“Wake up, disgusting half-blood!”Surrounded by loud screeching voices, she felt a solid blow to her stomach. She groaned in pain, choking up a bit of blood at the same time. All she could do was embrace herself, holding into her fractured arms while laying on the cold ceramic floor. She could not get up. Her body felt so numb. She was too weak to move, and she realized that it was merely impossible to protect herself anymore because of the excruciating pain all over her body caused