(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)Run…The voice behind me says, causing me to run faster. Gasps and sobs of fear leave my quivering lips.The sky is murky and the forest is opaque and damp; there isn't a path ahead but I only run deeper without a sense of destination.I just want to get away from that taunting yet familiar voice, and I want to run faster than the running feet behind me, pursuing my life.But suddenly, my legs get struck under a broken branch and I find my face deep into the mud with a broken sob but the grasp of fear only takes a stronger hold on me when a palm wraps around my ankle and I turn nattily with a gasp to find a pair of red and animalistic eyes staring at me viciously.“I. Told. You. To. Run. Princess. You. Didn't. Listen." Each word is spoken with an ominous intent and those red eyes look like they couldn't wait to tear my throat out.“Please,” the plead exits me helplessly. “Vance.” And the name comes with so much despair and it takes residence in my chest with the
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)I stare at the mirror of the bathroom and my miserable reflection only stares back at me but my eyes are fixed on my flat tummy, where a baby rests, unaware of the misery this world has to offer.Shakily, I place my hands at the top of my stomach—I try to feel. Is there really a baby in there? How can a living being grow inside me? How can I bring a child to this world to suffer the same fate as me?Suddenly, I recall the doctor's words again. ‘You are still young; perhaps you want to consider abortion or adoption.’A tear runs down my face as those words reverberate. Abortion or adoption. How can I choose to make my child suffer for the sins that neither of us committed?“This is all your dad’s fault.” I cry to my reflection. “He lied to me; he lied to us.” Was this how my mom felt when she discovered she was pregnant with me? Will I come to hate this child just the way my mom hates the sight of me? But my child is conceived with love, even if it's one-sided.
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)“How have you been?”The question makes me lift my head abruptly. I watch as Isleen ambles into the room with a big smile and a flask of food. She approaches the bed, which I have been glued to since I was admitted to the hospital more than a week ago. I have lost count of the visitors that come in through the door uninvited. “I brought you some porridge. I heard you haven't eaten well; it’s not good for the baby.”I don't bother asking how she knew about my pregnancy or how she knew I was in the hospital. I watch her impassively and don't move a muscle from where I am sitting on the bed with my back resting against the wall and my knees hugged to my chest. She places the flask on the table and comes to sit on the vacant seat in front of me.“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out raw and parched. My throat hurts and my chest clenches. She immediately takes out a bottle of water from her handbag and extends it toward me. I stare at the bottle blankly witho
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)What am I doing? The question repeated itself in my head over and over—I lost count of how many times I had heard those words.What am I doing? I repeat to myself as I step into the familiar building of Vance’s penthouse and I ask the question again when I step out of my clothes in his bedroom and wear the first thing I found in his closet after taking a shower. I inhale deeply at the collar of his shirt on my body. I have no idea how much I have missed his scent till now and now it seems like I crave so much that I can't have enough. Is it because of the baby?I step out of the bedroom wearing Vance’s oversized shirt that falls to my lower thighs. I don't find him in the living room; the alluring aroma of food is what pulls my legs to the kitchen to find him there, standing over the shove. He looks at me as I enter while I go over to one of the kitchen tools and sit down. There’s a fruit basket in the middle of the aisle. I reach out and grab an apple and bri
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)“What are you doing here?” I ask as I walk from Vance’s bedroom to the living room to find Mom and David occupying the sofa. Mom instantly jolts to her feet, her eyes as cold as ever, drilling daggers into my face. It’s almost as if she couldn't wait to pound on me, and at this point, I don't care what she thinks or feels.She approaches me in quick steps, and then her palm strikes my cheek in a slap; instantly, David drags her away from me while Vance is beside me in a flash. I don't know he can move that fast; it’s not like I care or need him to protect me. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.“You promised you would speak to her maturely, Jude.” David sounds frustrated. I snort, realizing I feel bad for him having to put up with our madness and that of his so-called son. He looks like a man who has been dragged to the middle of everything with no way out.“Maturely?” mom screams. “She’s all proper and meek but she is such a slut. Sleeping with your stepbr
[AHVI’S POINT OF VIEW]I sit on the kitchen counter peeling an apple; it’s been my favorite since Vance first gave it to me at the hospital. I snort as I take a bite. Despite what he has done, he remains at the center of my existence; everything about me revolves around him, and I had not realized how much he is like the air I breathe until now—even when I am trying so hard to hate him. I snort again and take another bite. I guess this is what he wanted—having me wrapped around his finger.Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me, causing me to pause. The apple stops halfway to my mouth, and I softly turn my head to see a girl, bearly looking at the age of 17 or 18. She cast a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. I tilt my head.“Hi, I'm Scar and before you ask, I am also a werewolf, and Vance is my adopted father.”I raise an eyebrow to her words. Well, that’s new. What else am I unfamiliar with? I snort and go back to biting into my apple. "It would have been nice to meet you, Scar
[RAVEN’S POINT OF VIEW]The bar is less crowded when I enter because it is a Monday, but it remains the same as the last time I was here, and it does not take more muscle to find who I came to look for in the bar's private area, sipping on a glass of wine and a girl hanging on his arm like a whore. I pause in front of him and his green eyes instantly meet mine."You are back," he says calmly, waving a dismissive hand at the girl, who quickly leaves with a small and annoying whine of protest. "What brings you here, Miss Raven?" The last time I saw you, you were scared at the sight of me,” he sneers and crosses one leg over the other.That’s a night I wanted to forget. “We are still dating, aren't we? I can come see my boyfriend.” and not him with a girl hanging on his arm. The sight leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.“Are we?” He grills with a look in his green eyes that suddenly makes me unsure of the reality before me. “You tell me, Raven. You walked out on me if I remember correctly
[RAVEN'S POINT OF VIEW]I follow closely behind Damien like a lost puppy, my arms hugging around my shoulders. The night is unlit and creepy, the wind is frigid, the street is lonesome, and there is an unsettling feeling in my stomach that won't go away. Something tells me something horrid is going to happen. “Where are we going?”I don't know how long we have been on the pavement but it feels like hours. Damien doesn't stop at my question, nor does he reel to look at me; he continues with his slow strides and hands in the front pocket of his coat and his eyes fixed ahead; it would have been bizarre if I didn't trust him.Finally, we arrive at the front of an unfamiliar penthouse. I follow him in.Damien doesn't speak as we get on the elevator and he doesn't speak when it opens with a beep and we arrive at a door. He rings the doorbell and a second later, it opens to reveal Scar.“Dad.” She calls with a smile, then her gaze shifts to me, and I give her a tight smile. She steps aside