Chapter 1

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be buried alive? How terrifying and torturous it could be like. When all your lives and memories come flashing through your eyes and you realize soon enough it will all be over. When your mind starts to wander and you begin to think about all the things you will never get to do again.

You start to feel like you're slipping away, and you know that death is inevitable as the pain pierces deeper than you could bear, yet you can open your mouth to scream.

This was the same nightmare I go through once every month, buried under the confinement and filled with wolfsbane potion mixed with silver. Being buried in this sizzling chemical as a werewolf was a horrifying experience that can induce a sense of dread in even the bravest souls.

It was an ordeal that involved being trapped in a small, confined space with little to no room to move. The darkness and the silence can be suffocating, and the only thing that can be heard is the sound of one's own breathing.

It was an ancient way to kill anyone who betrayed their pack, but the difference with mine was that they wouldn't allow me to die in it before pulling me out, bruised and badly wounded.

As you try to move, you realize that your body is trapped by the weight of the consuming pain slicing through your skin, pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe, and you start to feel yourself suffocating because each breath under the fluid was another form of torture.

It was another full moon, six months after the last one, and I was going to face that anguish again. A dreadful routine suggested by the heartless pack sorcerer, who claimed it was the only way to render me weak and prevent me from using my vampire powers to bring destruction to the pack.

I sat on the cold, hard ground of my small bedroom, knees pulled up to my chest, as I listened to the cheering and happy chattering voices coming from the other side of the thin walls, along with the sounds of cutleries hitting against each other.

They are all eating, and I had to wait till they were done so I could scavenge on the leftovers if there were any. I dared not show my face, and I've learned to make myself small and be as quiet as possible.

Maybe if the Alpha doesn't notice me, he'll forget I'm here. But no matter how hard I try, it's like he always finds a reason to lash out at me. The Luna, his mate, wasn't different. All she does is find out any mistake I make and then report me to her mate so I will be beaten.

Everyone loves seeing me in pain. In the royal packhouse, I do only the cleaning of the house before retiring into my room and waiting for any additional work that the Alpha or Luna would assign to me. I wasn't allowed to go to the kitchen because they claimed I would poison them.

My life was just a mess, with everyone treating me with malice and grudges, always reminding me that I wasn't one of them.

My stomach grumbled in hunger as the aroma of food from the dining room beside my room wafted in through the window, something I knew was done intentionally. This room beside the dining room was given to me as another form of torture, allowing me to wallow in the appetizing aroma of those dishes, of which I would barely have more than three mouthfuls.

Another hiss escaped my lips as I clutched myself together, reminiscing on the horrible experience I would go through this night. When will it end?

"What kind of life is this?" My wolf sulked, and I sighed, not knowing how to respond.

"When are we meeting our mate?" She threw another question at me as if I knew the answer, even though she knew I was as miserable as she was.

"We are 19 and our scent is clear. When he comes nearby, he will find us. We will also get his alluring scent, and you know what that means?" I smiled, wallowing in those same fantasies that had only haunted me.

For a year, since I turned 18, I had been daydreaming about the day we would meet our mate and how I would get struck by his manly pheromones, which would capture every part of my being and pull us towards each other. How he would hold my hands, stare into my eyes passionately, and tell me my suffering is over.

It is forbidden to stop mates from being together, so that simply means my mate would take me away from this shithole. He would be my savior and the man to bring light into my dark life. Anytime I think of this, I feel hope. I feel more reason to stay alive and bear all the sufferings. Soon, it will all be over.

"I hope so..." My wolf sighed, howling as she huddled in a corner in hunger while we waited for the alpha and Luna to be done. It takes hours for them to finish eating as they chat, kiss, and do a lot of other things there just to make sure I almost died of starvation.

I glanced at my room and hissed at the dungeon I was living as my apartment.

The room was small and cramped, barely large enough to fit a twin-sized bed, a small dresser, and a rickety nightstand. The walls are peeling and discolored, and the carpet are all torn off. There's a small window on the far wall, covered with a thin curtain that doesn't block out much light or sound.

The bed is the only piece of furniture in the room that looks halfway decent. It's a simple metal frame with a worn but relatively clean mattress and a couple of threadbare blankets. There are no pillows, just a small, lumpy cushion that does little to soften the hard surface of the bed.

The mirror was hung on the wall to give me the chance to always see my miserable reflection every day and how I was getting worn out and becoming a physical version of a mad woman by the day.

I was once a beautiful girl envied by my friends and admired by a lot of guys in and out of school, but now as I sat alone, staring at my reflection in the mirror, it was hard to recognize myself.

I used to be the center of attraction with my long golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and radiant smile. But now, my hair was disheveled, dull, and lifeless, my eyes sunken and tired, with the lens struggling to cover the left eye that had strangely turned red after my 18th birthday. My face, which had always been graced with a pretty and contagious smile, had been replaced by a permanent frown.

As I looked helplessly at myself, I could see the deep lines etched into my face, the dark circles under my eyes, and the dullness in my skin. I couldn't help but feel that same usual twinge of sadness upon remembering how I used to look.

I drifted my eyes away from the mirror and stood up from the bed, almost losing my stance as my legs wobbled. I had to support myself with the nightstand, and if I hadn't taken my hands away quickly, I would have collapsed with it.

The nightstand is little more than a pile of mismatched planks held together with a few rusty nails. It wobbles unsteadily whenever I touch it, and I worry that it might collapse at any moment.

My room was just a dreary place where no one would want to stay. More like a dungeon.

Just then, I began to hear quick footsteps stomping in my direction. I first caught a glimpse of the clock and saw it was still past 6:pm. My brain ran a thousand miles, racking to find out if there was anything wrong I had done or what I should do that I hadn't done, but I couldn't think of anything.

The angry stompy steps were usual for Laura, the pack's Luna, anytime she was about to yell and lash at me for something I did wrong.

Just as expected, my door burst open, and she stepped in with that malice brimming in her eyes.

She stood tall and elegant, smelling so nice and alluring. She was dressed in a gown of deep crimson, the rich fabric flowing elegantly around her as she moved, highlighting her slender figure and emphasizing on her curves.

Her long, flowing hair cascaded down her back in golden waves, portraying her as a woman of perfect beauty with a hint of being the woman of every man's dream, but she was far opposite from that.

Her wickedness and selfishness lie in her heart, hidden under her fake and wry smiles, and I was just her victim.