Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Present. Patricia. Nineteen years old. Life isn't fair. Dior has grown several inches during upper secondary school and has taken William's spot as the most sought-after guy. He is only seventeen but already the alpha of the Winterbite pack. The guy rules with an iron fist, and anyone with a lick of sense knows there isn't a heart beating inside his chest. Unfortunately, everyone is too starry-eyed and blinded by his beauty and sheer power as an alpha to see the monster lurking on the inside. The girls in my pack fawn over him like he is their idol, giggling whenever he glances their way. It baffles me how his pimples have vanished and been replaced by a face so beautiful one could mistake it for having been sculpted by an angel. Yes, he is that gorgeous. Not only that, but his body nowadays is sheer physical perfection. Such a shame a boy so pretty possesses what I deem an ugly heart. Dior thinks he is better than everyone els

PatriciaI drag my feet forward, intent on dying in my bed as soon as I get home.Since I'm not rich, I still live with my parents. I'm moving out next year, thank god for that, because my parents aren't supportive of me at all. They are Dior's brainwashed pawns, clueless about the deep hatred I hold for their beloved alpha.As expected, my mother, Elena, is already waiting by the door as I walk across our garden covered with red and brown oak leaves. She is wearing a white blouse and black pants. An apron is slung over her shoulder, and her glare is intense.I know without asking that she has discovered the latest rumor that I left the pack to become a rogue. Her expression says it all and does nothing to hide her inner rage."Patricia!" Disappointment is radiant on my mother's face, and her nostrils flare with disapproval. With her dark hair and heart-shaped face, we look like clones. "How dare you leave the pack! Do you have any idea what it mea

Dior From the first moment I laid my eyes upon Patricia, I understood she was different. I spotted her on my first day in kindergarten. My skin under my clothes was blue and yellow from the abuse I had to endure the night before. I was in tremendous pain, and she smiled at me like a princess from one of those Disney tales. And while a typical kid would have gladly made friends with the cute girl, I stood frozen. It was as if my feet had grown their gnarled roots and stuck them in the ground. I had never faced kindness, and my initial instinct was to run, but then I clenched my fists and fought to steal the spade and bucket from her. I lost, not that I'm bitter about it. The event marked us as enemies, and although I will never admit it out loud, Patricia has saved my life plenty of times. My parents weren't kind when I grew up—they are still assholes, but I'm strong enough to fight back these days. When I was younger, I didn't possess enough strength.

Patricia Last night was a nightmare. William and June were screaming and fucking each other so hard their bedframe hit against my wall. They let me sleep in their guestroom, but I kind of wish I had slept in the forest. Seriously. I'm officially scarred for life, humiliated because I thought I had this instant connection to William when he is clearly, deeply in love with June. What was I thinking getting butterflies when he looked over at me with those pretty-boy eyes? June probably had Willian act friendly so she could pump information from my system. Groaning to myself, I speed up my pace. I snuck out of the pair's mansion, and now I'm racing to school through the woods. Fiery colors are blazing around me while my hands are under my arms, seeking warmth. My dirty hair thrashes to the left and right over my back, reminding me of how badly I need to shower. It's a long way to school—I must already be late, and I know for sure that I lo

PatriciaThe diner is old school with red booths and posters of classic cars on the walls. There is a neon sign outside, glowing from its height, and everyone working here is confident. There is a certain swag and shake to the hips as a waitress comes up to our table. I like it."Are you ready to order?" The lady is standing there, smiling while holding up a sketchbook rather than an Ipad."Yes," Dior flashes a killer smile, and I roll my eyes at the blush growing on the woman's cheeks. "I would like to have the bacon and eggs and a large cola. Oh, and with a side of fries.""Lovely," The woman, who must be more than twenty years older than Dior, has been reduced to a giggling mess. "And what does your friend like to order?"I glance up from my menu, smiling. "I want the strawberry and cream waffles with a mango smoothie.""Excellent," The lady let her eyes roam over Dior appreciatingly before she forces herself to stop checking him out. "Yo