Awareness

Freda’s P.O.V

The cold floor bit into my skin as I woke up, the chill from the stone floor seeping into my bone – my wet cloth had dried, but the damp chill remained. My eyes fluttered open, the light barely cutting through the suffocation in the room. A small, grimy window was set high in the wall of the shed, offering no escape.  

I tried to move, but it was impossible, so I realized my hand and legs had been bound as if I was something dangerous and could escape anytime soon. Panic shoot through me as memory of the night crashed back – the mark, the adoption, Adrian’s rejection, and then… him. The stranger. 

My eyes darted to the only other source of light in the room – the door. 

As if on command, the door creaked open. 

I froze as the stranger stepped inside. He held a small torch cast flickering shadows on the wall, but it was his presence that made the air feel thick, like it was suffocating me. I instinctively took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. 

He moved towards me, his steps eerily silent. It was as if he had perfected the art of walking without sound, and every movement made him seem more dangerous.  

“You’re awake,” his voice was low and rough, but oddly smooth like a rumble of thunder before a storm. A shiver ran through me. He stopped just out of reach, his eye trailing over my body before they settled on the mark burned into my tight. 

I glared at him. “Where am I? What do you want with me?” my voice trembled, although I had attempted to sound bold.

Fear surged through me.

Was I being kidnapped?

I had heard of Omega’s disappearing in this part of the forest, and it seemed I was about to face the same fate as them. 

The stranger didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he moved the torch towards my mark. I had the urge to cover it with my dress, but there was little one could do when their hands and legs has been tied. 

“I want to know who you are,” he said, finally, his tone unreadable, but sending bumps all over me. “And why you’re marked with a symbol that should have died out decades ago.”

My heart stopped.

I literally stopped breathing, and then suddenly it pick up twice it’s normal rate. How did he know about the mark or should I call it curse? I clenched my fist behind my back, the last thing I wanted people to notice about me was the mark that had turned my world upside down. “I don’t know,” I snapped, my voice sharp. Talking about this curse seemed to bring the worst part of me. “No one knows. Not even my parents.”

At the thought of my parents, my voice faltered. Should I even call them my parents now?

Should I refer to them as ex-parents?

“Parents,” he raised an eyebrow. “Where are they now?”

I frowned at the stranger. I don’t particularly feel any obligation to tell him about my parents but the sting of rejection still burned deep that I had no idea when I spat out, “They abandon me after I got this mark?”

“Interesting,” his gaze flickered with hidden amusement. “And I assume they don’t have this same mark.”

My eyes widened, “How did you know?”

For the first time, I stared at him with more interest than a guy who had suddenly captured me and tied me here. For a guy, he had a strange long her than ended at his shadow. He didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. 

“I know more about this mark than you can think about?”

My heart stopped for a nano-seconds. Then it picked up a gain. I gaze at him in curiosity, “You know about this curse?” I refused to call what ruined my life just a mark. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crouched down to my level, his eyes on mine, and I could have sworn that his eye rival that of the deep sea. “It’s not a curse. Do you even know what this mark is? It’s a bond to something powerful. It’s like a means of identification.”

My pulse quickened, “A means of identification. To what?”

He stood up, moving back in the room. My gaze followed every of his steps. He leaned casually against the wall, “To an extinct park,” he said, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather and not something that had changed the course of my life. “The Sliver Blood pack. It was said that only a true born Sliver Blood Pack member has that mark on them by the time they were eighteen.”

My breath caught in my throat, “And?” I pressed, curiosity burning inside me. What did this Sliver Blood Pack have to do with me? 

He tsked, waving his hand in front of me, “I don’t know much about them. But the pack member all died mysteriously two decades ago, and no one with the same mark had been seen since then…” he raised a brow as if he was questioning her legitimacy. “So, what are you?”

What? Not even who?

I swallowed hard, wishing I had an answer. This pack, this mark – none of it made sense to me. I was just Freda, the girl rejected by her own family and pack.

I had never heard about this strange Sliver Blood pack, but they seemed weird. Who put a mark on someone as a means of identification? 

“I guess you also have no idea?” he tsked. “This is getting more interesting than I thought.”

I had no idea how someone’s pain would amuse someone else. I tugged at my wrist, “Now that you know I am not dangerous, can you remove this rope from my hand. It’s painful.”

He shook his head at me, “I can’t remove that, and I never claim you are not dangerous. After all, the extinct Sliver Blood Pack was the most powerful pack to ever exist.”