Chapter 2: Left To Perish

Darcy's POV:

 

That had gone easier than I had expected. 

 

 

Finally, that damned bitch was gone for good. It was always Aria. Ever since we were girls, it was always her. She was the smart one. She was the pretty one. She was the one who had the bright future. While I was destined to remain in her shadow forever,

 

"Let's go back," Logan said as soon as Aria's form disappeared from sight.

 

I hooked my arm with his and flashed him a brilliant smile. I had spent years perfecting this smile. "Sure!" I said it in a happy tone.

 

 

He turned, his eyes hardening as he saw the red mark on my cheek. "That damned bitch." He hissed in anger, his fingertips touching my face. 

 

 

"It's just a love mark." I said it in a nonchalant tone.

 

 

A love mark it was. Just as I had Aria walking around with my own love mark, it was a little something between us, and I doubt she was aware of it. But it had been years already—a little drop of it every morning—and she was as weak and pliant as a newborn.

 

Oh poor Aria, she wasn't going to survive long out there with how much of it was in her veins now! I smiled to myself, thinking how perfect my plan was. 

 

"We need to go to the healer now." Logan said this, grabbing my arm and taking me back to the pack house.

 

 

Aria really scored a good one with Logan, I wasn't going to lie. He was the perfect man. That is, until he found out that she was lying. That is, until a certain someone told him that his wife was under an infertility curse.

 

 

That hadn't been a problem. All it took was using my special gifts, and it all came down like a house of cards. All thanks to the old man in my dream.

 

 

I stared at Logan as we walked back to the packhouse. I thanked him for helping me bring Aria down. Although he will never know the role he played, He would never know how easy it was to get into Aria's mind just by making love with him. Getting to my sister through her husband was a very peculiar gift.

 

 

Not that I was complaining. Now I get to live out my dreams without her around.

 

 

And as for Aria, well, I hope she does fine out there. But then, a wolfless ex-luna cannot survive long in the wild. 

 

 

And she had me to thank for that. She'll wish Logan had executed her.

 

***

Aria's POV

 

My life was never so perfect. But I had done my very best. After my parents had been killed in an ambush attack, leaving the pack to me, I did my very best to be a good alpha, and a good sister.

 

 

The pack members never accepted me. How could a weak, wolfless girl rule them? It was an abomination. But I made it happen. Darcy was by my side the entire time. When the insults and abuse got bad, she stood up for me. She'd fight anyone who doubted my ability to rule.

 

 

And then I met Logan, on the verge of death from a brutal attack. He was without a pack, so I took him into Nightfang. On the blood moon, he was revealed to be my fated mate. 

 

 

I should have rejected him then. Perhaps if I had, none of this would have happened.

 

 

But no. I accepted the mating. I made him the alpha, I loved him, and he proved to be capable. And it seemed that finally the pack members respected me. Or rather, they respected him and tolerated me. He transitioned into the alpha role smoothly. It was like he had always been an alpha. 

 

 

He made Nightfang feared and respected, in just three years. He was also the ideal husband.

 

 

Or so I thought.

 

 

How many hours had I been walking for? I had no idea. My feet hurt, and I was thirsty and tired. It was getting dark, when the night came, where would I go?

 

 

Mother's old pack was still far away. If I wanted to get there and find answers, could i do it on foot? How many days would it even take me?

 

 

It was getting even darker.

 

I heard a twig snap behind me. I cursed silently. My senses hadn't ever been the sharpest, with my wolf suppressed and all. By now, I should have been able to figure out someone was following me.

 

 

I turned around, my eyes darting around the darkening forest. "Who's there?!" I called out. "Show yourself now!"

 

 

I saw a shadow move. Shadows, in fact. Damn it. How would I fight off this many people?! How many were there?!

 

 

"Who's there?!"

 

 

I felt a dull blow to the back of my head. I gasped, and my vision went black instantly. I could hear voices around me, so many of them. I felt a warm liquid flowing down the back of my head—my blood? Or was it water? My knees felt weak, and I fell to the cold forest floor.

 

 

The last thing I remember was someone lifting me up. 

 

"....Logan...." Before I could stop it, his name fell off my lips.

 

*****

 

The pounding in the back of my head was the first thing that registered. The smell came next. The smell of mold and death. I opened my eyes, wincing at the barrage of pain that hit me all of a sudden. A loud groan left my lips, and I squeezed my eyes shut. 

 

 

"You're finally awake!" A male voice spoke. "I thought we had left you with brain damage or something."

 

 

I squinted my eyes open. There was a man standing at the other end of the steel bars! My eyes flew open, and I looked around. I was locked in a cell. 

 

 

"Who are...ah!" A sharp bolt of pain shot through my head. I reached out and touched the back of my head; my hand came off stained with blood.

 

 

"You could stay still and listen to what I have to say, or you could bleed yourself to death." I frankly don't care what you do, by the way." The man said,. 

 

 

I turned and glared at him. "Who are you? "And why am I here?" I hissed. 

 

 

"Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. Alpha Aria. Oh, wait, that's right. You gave your title to your stupid mate! Isn't that right?"

 

He laughed, his voice uncultured and loud. 

 

I grabbed my head, wincing in pain. "Where am I ?" "Of course, if you're done laughing at yourself."

 

 

The man paused and turned to me. "Alpha Dane, of the Crescent Pack. Does that ring a bell? Former alpha Aria?"

 

 

I felt my blood run cold. Dane Seymour?! Crescent pack?! I reached out and grabbed the steel bars. 

 

 

"Let me out of here this instant!" I screamed.

 

 

If this man was, in fact, the real Dane Seymour, then I was in trouble.

 

He leaned in with a cruel smile on his face. "And now, why would I do that? Do you know how difficult it is to get my hands on prime material?"