My beautiful savior's eyes blazed with fury as he leaned in, his voice low and rumbling. “Little one, how do you envision their deaths?” he asked, his words dripping with power and command. I swallowed hard, my mind spinning. Their deaths? I have never thought about the end of this, They are my family. “I...I don't know,” I stammered, my voice barely audible. Fear constricted my throat, making it hard to breathe. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. My savior's expression softened as if he could feel my fear. “Take your time, little one,” he whispered, his voice gentle. “Their fate is now in your hands.” Fiona had always faced cruelty at the hands of her father, stepsister, and her stepmother. Tagging her as the unfortunate one of the family who had killed her mother. Until the day when her father sold her to the alpha king to pay for his debts. Fiona thought life would be better anywhere away from home and took the chance but how can a human girl survive in a werewolf world with lots of enemies? Her hope for freedom suddenly becomes blurry and now she has to fight even harder for love and respect.
View MoreMARCELLUS’ POV.The world around me was chaotic. I held Fiona in my arms, her body limp and lifeless. Blood soaked my hands, her shirt, and the floor. My mind screamed at me to do something, to fix this, but for the first time in my life, I felt utterly powerless. “Get the car ready!” I barked at the couple, my voice trembling with urgency. The woman, pale and shaking, nodded and ran outside while her husband brought towels. “Press this against the wound!” he shouted, handing me a bundle of fabric. I did as he said, applying pressure to her side. Fiona’s blood seeped through the towel almost instantly. My chest tightened as I looked at her face. She was so pale, her breathing shallow. “Stay with me,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Don’t you dare leave me, Fiona. Don’t you dare.” The minutes felt like hours, but finally, the car screeched to a stop outside the house. I carried her out, cradling her as if she might shatter, and laid her gently in the back seat. “Drive!”
FIONA'S POV.The sun poured through the window, bathing the room in golden light. I stretched my arms above my head and smiled to myself. The past few days had been peaceful, almost like a dream. The couple who had taken me in were kind, their warm smiles and gentle voices making me feel safe. For the first time in a long while, I felt free. I busied myself organizing the small space they’d given me. The bed was neatly made, and my clothes were folded into the old wooden dresser by the corner. I glanced around the room, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Everything looked perfect. On the bedside table, a vase held a single sunflower. I had picked it from the garden that morning, and its bright yellow petals seemed to brighten the entire room. I hummed a tune as I moved about, wiping down surfaces and arranging the few belongings I had. My heart felt light, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so content. As I placed a book on the small shelf by the window, a sudden n
MARCELLUS’ POV.The early morning sun barely lit up the study when I slammed the report onto my desk. My head was pounding, my patience stretched thin. Days of searching and still no sign of Fiona. It was unacceptable. Made me feel more miserable.I barely slept a wink, it had begun taking its toll on me, I felt miserable, I was the alpha and yet I couldn't even find my mate, just one thing that finally belonged to me, one person with whom I shared my soul with was never to be foundMy incompetence mocked me, Raphael had searched around the mountains, and the woods, and extended his armies yet nothing had been found, and now it was draining me,I rubbed my temples, trying to make sense of the scattered leads my men had brought in. Each report felt like a dead end, a cruel reminder that she was slipping further out of my grasp. The thought of her out there alone, unprotected, drove me mad. A knock on the door broke my thoughts. “Enter,” I barked, my tone harsher than I intended. T
MARCELLUS POV. The warm sunlight brushed against my face, nudging me awake. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I felt disoriented. The soft, unfamiliar bed beneath me, the faint smell of lavender in the air—it was nothing like the cold, suffocating walls of the pack house I had known. Slowly, the events of the past day pieced themselves together in my mind. I had run away. I had been found. I sat up, the cozy quilt slipping off my shoulders. The room around me was simple but inviting, with wooden furniture and a vase of fresh flowers by the window. It felt strange to wake up in a place that didn’t carry the weight of judgment or whispers behind closed doors. A part of me wanted to sink back into the bed and never leave. Voices from downstairs caught my attention, and I climbed out of bed, stretching my stiff limbs. My borrowed dress hung neatly over the chair, a soft blue fabric that smelled like detergent and warmth. As I slipped it on, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker
MARCELLUS’ POV The search continued, not seeming to end soon. Every passing hour without a single lead on Fiona's whereabouts chipped away at my mental stability. Reports came in regularly—territories checked, patrols doubled—but they all said the same thing: no trace of her. My frustration was increasing, not at the effort of my men, but at myself. I had failed her. Sitting in my study, the air felt heavy with the weight of my decisions. I stared at the phone in my hand, my thumb hovering over Raphael’s contact. I had already called him earlier, several times, but there had been no answer. I couldn’t wait any longer. Swallowing my pride, I dialed his number again, pacing the length of the room as it rang. One ring. Two. Five. Still nothing. My hand clenched around the phone, and I nearly hurled it across the room. But then I stopped myself, letting out a frustrated sigh. I couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when Fiona was still out there, alone and possibly in danger.
MARCELLUS’ POV The study was dim, lit only by the soft, flickering glow of the fire. Shadows danced on the walls as I stared at the mountain of paperwork in front of me. Documents about rogue sightings, territorial disputes, and pack finances lay scattered across the desk. They demanded my attention, yet my mind refused to focus. I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me like an iron chain. Every decision felt heavier these days, and no matter how hard I worked, the burdens only seemed to grow. And then there was Fiona. Her face, her voice, her very existence haunted me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. But I had no right to think of her, no right to care—not after what I’d done to her. The sharp rap of knuckles against the door startled me from my thoughts. I frowned, irritation rising. “Who is it?” I barked. Before I could receive an answer, the door burst open, and Darla stormed in. Her urgency wa
DARLA’S POV. The journey back to the pack house was filled with mixed emotions. Leaving my parents behind was never easy, especially when my mother was still recovering. But I’d done everything I could for her, ensuring she had the medicine and care she needed before I left. As I approached the pack grounds, the familiar sights and sounds of home greeted me. The towering trees, the scattered houses, the faint rustle of the wind—it was all comforting yet tinged with a sense of unease. Something felt off, though I couldn’t quite place what. After handing my bags to a nearby omega to take to my quarters, I made my way inside the pack house. The grand halls were quiet, the air thick with tension. It wasn’t unusual, given the recent events—the Luna ceremony, Raphael’s departure, and the ever-present whispers of unrest. I headed straight for my room, hoping to freshen up and settle in before checking on Fiona. The thought of her brought a small smile to my face. Fiona had always been
FIONA'S POV.The city lights blurred in the distance as I trudged down the road, my legs feeling like they would give out any moment. The cold bit at my skin through my thin sweater, and my stomach growled angrily, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I kept moving, though every step felt heavier than the last. The sound of passing cars in the distance grew faint as I stumbled further into what seemed like a quiet neighborhood. The towering buildings gave way to smaller homes, their windows glowing warmly against the night. But I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong anywhere. A sharp pain shot through my foot, and I winced, realizing I’d stepped on a jagged rock. I leaned against a nearby tree, my vision blurring as exhaustion finally caught up to me. The last thing I remembered was the world tilting and the ground rushing up to meet me. --- When I opened my eyes, I was no longer outside. Instead, I found myself in a small, cozy room. The walls were pain
FIONA’S POV I woke up to the sound of Maya’s hesitant knock on my door. My body felt heavy, as if I’d been carrying a weight too big for me to bear. The moment I opened my eyes, the room felt colder and emptier. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.“Come in,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from last night’s tears.Maya stepped in, her eyes darting nervously. She was wringing her hands, and the look on her face sent a chill down my spine.“Miss Fiona,” she started, her voice trembling, “I… I thought you should know. Raphael… he’s gone. He left early this morning. I overheard the guards talking. He’s not coming back to the pack.”Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My heart sank, and my vision blurred with tears I hadn’t realized were forming. “He’s gone?” I whispered, my voice shaking.Maya nodded, her expression full of pity. “Yes, miss. He left for his own pack. He didn’t tell anyone goodbye.”I sat there, frozen, as the reality of her words sank in. Raphael had left w
Fiona's POVI'm the most unlucky person in the world. That was all I could think about as I knelt on the ground cleaning the bathroom floor with a toothbrush. That was my stepmother's way of punishing me for waking up late even though I was sick. “Make it sparkle! I want to see my face in those tiles when you're done” My stepsister mocked me as she passed by the guest bathroom. I ignored her as I'd grown accustomed to the insults and unfair treatment I received in my own house. My back was sore and aching when I finally finished after hours of cleaning. My fever had gone up but of course, no one cared about that. I joined the rest of the family in the living room and sat down for lunch when my father snapped at me.“What do you think you're doing?” His voice startled me.“I-I want to eat…” “Then go to the kitchen and wait for the leftovers. Don't be greedy” I still found it hard to believe just how terribly my own father treated me, especially since he married my stepmother.“But ...
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