Chapter 1

Willow’s POV

We were taught that the goddess makes no mistakes and that everything she does is for a reason. We were made to believe that she loves us all equally and watches over us from the moon.

But I know better; the goddess does not love us equally; she wouldn't subject me to a life of suffering if that were the case.

My name is Willow Marrock, the only daughter of Davis Marrock, Alpha of The Crescent Moon Pack. I am the dirt of my pack, an abomination to my kind, and the punching bag of my father.

He once said that I was cursed, that the moon goddess took away my wolf as punishment for taking the life of his Luna, my mother, who died giving birth to me. I never asked to be born; all I have known my whole life is pain and suffering.

It was better when I was a child; he at least tolerated my presence, but when I turned 13 and there was no sign of my wolf surfacing, my father's hatred for me intensified. When I turned 15, I had found out I had the gift of healing, and although I couldn't heal myself, I was joyful; werewolf healers were rare, mostly sought after because of the advantage it has over a pack’s strength.

I thought I had something unique, and maybe finally I could feel like the rest of my kind, but I was wrong.

I was treated more like a prisoner, banned from moving freely, my powers drained out of me at the slightest chance. I was treated like a slave by the rest of the pack; my father turned a blind eye to every treatment meted out to me in the pack.

“There she is,” Beta Charles yelled.

I stilled as I heard his voice, along with two other wolves from my pack. I had sneaked out into the forest, where it's peaceful and quiet, to clear my head after cleaning and scrubbing the pack house all day.

“What are you doing near the pack border again, Mutt?”

“But I'm not at the border; I'm not even far away from the pack hou…”

Before I could complete my sentence, his hand swung out and slapped me hard in the face. The sound sending deafening echoes in my ear, and a sharp stinging pain spread across my cheeks. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood where my teeth had cut into my lip.

For a moment, everything seemed to stand still before my ears started working again. I could hear the giggles from Matt and Luca, his henchmen.

Beta Charles stepped closer, his breath inches from mine. Hot and angry.

“If I say you were at the border, then that's where you were.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Beta Charles always looked for ways to get me into trouble, sending me on errands near the border and then reporting to my father that I was trying to escape the pack.

Why would I run away when I will eventually be caught and punished? When my father reminds me every day that I am weak and worthless and will be shredded to pieces once I step my foot outside the pack land. 

“Send words to the Alpha and let him know we found Willow at the border.” He ordered

Luca and Matt nodded happily and sprang fast to deliver the message.

“Today is going to be such a fun day.” He smiled satisfactorily. 

I knew what awaited me once I got to the pack. I swallowed back the swell of tears tempting to fall from my eyes. My father doesn't care for my explanation; he believes anything anybody says besides my words.

I trailed quietly behind Beta Charles till we got to the pack house, and unsurprisingly, the whole pack was waiting, and there he was, Dwane, the new Alpha of the Mystic Pack. Handsome as always, with his cold expression staring me down, standing next to him was my best friend Denise. I avoided her eyes to not get her in trouble; she has been asked severally to stay away from me.

She always talked about how she knows deep down that Dwane was her mate. I never voice out my desires; I am expected to not have desires. Just exist and serve the pack.

But at least she was the only one that saw me as more than just filth. And sneaked food to me when I was thrown into the dungeon. 

“Bring her to me,” my father’s cold voice demanded.

I was dragged forward by my long hair and placed in front of my father. His bright green eyes reflecting mine were laced with murderous contempt.

A heavy slap landed on my cheeks before I could properly say my greeting, sending me falling flat on the ground.

My father loomed over me; I could see the veins in his neck bulging, and his face flushed with anger. I closed my eyes in anticipation as His feet connected with my back, sending jolts of pain through my body. It didn't stop as he kept kicking me. I tried my hardest to keep my cries in; it will only get worse if I make a sound.

His feet came down again, this time on my stomach. I felt my breath leave me in a silent gasp; each breath I took was a stream of pain; the kicks kept coming, a constant reminder that I was nothing but a sack of rag; his words laced with venom repeated in my mind—useless, cursed, worthless, unwanted.

I clung to myself, willing my pain away and imagining a different world, where my mother was alive, where I had a beautiful wolf, and I was running freely in a pack with people that loved and accepted me.

Eventually my father’s rage was spent; he stepped away from me, breathing heavily.

“The next time I get reports about you trying to cross the border or falling behind in your chores, that will be your last day breathing. Do you hear me, child?”

"Yes, Alpha,” I managed to breathe out; if I make him repeat himself, I might end up spending days in the dungeon.

 “You continuously shame and embarrass me; you are still alive thanks to me. I kept you even though you are an abomination to our kind. You better learn to be grateful. Even if you tried running away, you couldn't survive out there. Be grateful for the life I have given you and know your place.”

“Yes Alpha”

With that, he turned his back and bellowed to Alpha Dwane to join him. My father has been seeking an alliance with his pack for a while now, and he often visits for negotiations.

I lay there for a long time; the tears were almost dried from my face. The others from the pack were having a fit of laughter at my pain. Their insults, an array of music to my ears.

“Look at her.”

“Pathetic”

”Loser”

“Weird”

“Mutt”

I was their constant source of entertainment; that's why Father always chose to punish me out in the open.

“Get your lazy ass up and return to your duty mutt; enough of your dramatic display,” Beta Charles yelled.

"Yes, beta," I replied.

I dragged myself up through the pain. Each step I took caused me to stagger. I willed myself to move.

I have to bear it; I told myself over and over again, I have to survive; I have to live through the pain. Just for a little while more.

The days were coming fast. It's just 10 days remaining. I will wait for my mate, my savior. He will come for me, and he will save me.