5

Scarlett

I used to think moonlight was beautiful. Stupid, really, how many nights I spent bathing in its glow, whispering prayers like some lovesick fool. Now, I can’t even look at it. I’ve draped black sheets over my windows, but still, that silver light finds ways to creep in, mocking me with its presence.

I had spent so many nights gazing up at that same moon, praying to her. Praying for love. For a mate who would cherish me, who would finally make me feel whole. And yet, what had she given me? Rejection. Pain. Loneliness. The universe seemed to mock me, sending me more suffering when I had thought happiness was finally within reach.

I was naïve to believe it could be different. I had wanted to trust her, the moon goddess. All those stories about her watching over us, guiding us toward our destined mates—lies. She hadn’t been watching over me. If she had, she would have seen the heartbreak I endured. The betrayal. She would have known how much I longed for acceptance and love.

Instead, she left me with a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Every night, I used to close my eyes and imagine my mate. The one meant for me. He’d take my hand and promise me forever, look into my soul and tell me I was enough, that I was loved. But now, I can barely close my eyes without seeing his face twisted in disgust, the sneer he wore as he rejected me.

What kind of goddess blesses us with a mate, only to let us suffer when they throw us away?

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I was tired of crying. Tired of being the one left broken, while everyone else seemed to find their happiness.

“Some goddess you turned out to be,” I muttered. “I did everything right. Every prayer. Every offering. Was it fun watching me make a fool of myself? Did you enjoy leading me straight to heartbreak?”

I had been foolish to think that the goddess had a plan for me. That I was ever meant for something other than this endless torment. If she had a plan, it wasn’t one of love and joy.

The air in my room felt stifling, heavy with my bitterness. I once believed that meeting my mate would change everything—could save me from this hellish place. But I was wrong. Everything did change, from acceptance to rejection, all because of my blood. The blood I wished I could flush out of my veins.

Everyone knew who my father was. His cruelty was infamous in the werewolf kingdom. But never in my worst nightmares did I think he could make my mate hate me. Because of him, I lost everything. I hated him, and I hated my mate even more.

I closed my eyes and reached out, mind-linking my wolf, Ray. “Are you okay?” I asked. Ray was my omega wolf, always fragile and rarely speaking to me. We had both clung to the hope that our mate would change things, that he would embrace us and make us whole. “Are you there?”

“Scarlett...” Ray’s voice came, barely a whisper. It was faint, so faint it was almost drowned out by my own thoughts. My heart shattered hearing how weak she had become. Ever since the rejection, Ray had been fading with each passing day.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though we both knew it was a lie. “We’ll get through this.”

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. Even now, she was giving me hope despite her weakening state. I wished I could believe her. “I hope so, Ray. I really do.”

“We will make it,” Ray insisted. “I know that. I still believe in the moon goddess.”

Anger surged through me as soon as I heard that name. That disgusting name.

I knew that the moon goddess wanted me to suffer, fine. She wanted me to suffer, so she mated me to someone my father had hurt. If love wasn’t for me, then I would survive without it. No more dreams. No more hopes.

“I no longer believe in her, Ray,” I whispered. “And don’t ever tell me about her.”

“Scarlett.”

I was about to respond when a sudden bang echoed through the quiet, jarring me from my thoughts. My heart raced as I looked toward the door, my pulse quickening with a familiar sense of dread.

“Open this damn door, bitch,” came the harsh, venomous voice on the other side. I knew that voice. Nina. My sister.

I stood up slowly, preparing myself for what was about to happen. The old floorboards creaked as I walked towards the door.

With a shaking hand, I opened the door. There she stood—Nina, the apple of my father’s eye. Her eyes were blazing, her lips twisted in a sneer. She pushed past me before I even had a chance to speak.

“Are you pretending not to hear me when I was knocking?” She shot at me.

I scoffed internally. Knock? Did she just say knock? I glanced at the dent in the door where she’d clearly been slamming her fists.

“Is that a smile on your lips?” Nina pressed on, moving closer. “Tell me. Are you mocking me?”

“No, I dare not,” I muttered, knowing better than to provoke her further. She was everything I wasn’t. Strong, favored, the golden child in my father’s eyes. And I? I was the family’s shame—the black sheep, the omega, the one who never lived up to expectations.

“Shut your mouth,” she fired back. “Did I ask you to talk?” I shut my mouth, watching her speak rudely to me, even though I was older than her.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not because I meant it, but because I knew it was what she wanted to hear.

“You should know your place, omega,” she sneered, the title rolling off her tongue like an insult. It was. To her, to my father, to everyone who knew what it meant to be an omega.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. I didn’t have enough strength to fight or argue. I wanted to maintain peace. Nina’s smirk widened. My submission only fueled her anger, like offering gasoline to a fire. Before I could react, she grabbed me by the hem of my clothes, dragging me across the room. I stumbled, my legs weak, barely able to keep up. Ray was too weak to help. I was too fragile.

“How dare you mock me?” Nina screeched, flinging me to the floor with brutal force. My body hit the ground hard, and pain shot through me. I could taste blood in my mouth, warm and metallic. My breaths came in shallow gasps.

“What’s going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the living room, sending a chill down my spine.

Nina didn’t waste a second. She ran to him. “Dad.”

I lay on the floor, beaten and bloodied, barely able to move. The world spun around me as I watched my father open his arms for her. He cradled her like a treasure, while I was left discarded on the floor.

My father, who was once a source of pride and love, now looked at me like I was nothing more than a stain on the floor. His disappointment was evident. I didn’t understand it at first. Was it because I was an omega? I wasn’t born as one. I remembered the smile on his face when I first shifted at twelve. He had called me a warrior back then, proud of my strength.

But that was before. Before I got sick. Before Ray turned into an omega wolf. Before I became worthless.

“She hurt me, Dad,” Nina’s voice whined, her finger pointing directly at me, still lying on the floor like discarded trash.

“I didn’t,” I tried to explain, though I was weak.

My father’s eyes hardened as he stepped toward me. “You didn’t? Or you did?”

“I didn’t,” I responded. “I didn’t hurt her.” I wondered if he was blind. Did he not see the state I was in?

He pulled me up by my clothes before demanding again, “You hurt her?”

“I didn’t,” I repeated, my words trembling on my lips. He wanted to hear that I was guilty. He wanted to hear me say it. But I refused. I had nothing left to lose. No fear. No pride. Just emptiness.

“You...” His hand came down hard on my face, the slap echoing through the room. I didn’t flinch. What was left to flinch from? The rejection had already broken me.

“Please...” My voice came out low.

“You should apologize to your sister, not me,” he spat, his voice full of disgust as he shoved me to the floor once more. “Apologize. Now.”

I was tired. Tired of everything.

I crawled towards my father, leaving a trail of blood behind me.

“What are you doing?" He growled when I touched his feet, and I struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Dad, please kill me.”