Silence.
Lira, the voice that had always comforted her, had always been there-was gone.
Just when she needed her most.
And then—a knock at the door.
Garrick jerked back, his body tensing as the moment shattered. Isla swallowed hard, forcing herself not to react.
Then her mother appeared.
For one fleeting moment, Isla had thought she was safe.
"You filthy whore!" Her mother yanked her hair and shoved her. "How dare you seduce your father?''
The words had hit harder than any slap.
Her mother hadn't spoken to her for weeks after that. The punishments had come in waves. Long hours locked in her room. Days without food. Slaps that came out of nowhere.
Her father had never tried again. He didn't have to. The damage was already done.
Now, in Crimson Fang, Isla pressed her fingers to her temples, forcing the memories away.
But she could still hear Lira's voice, whispering from the night before she fled.
"You were meant to be rejected by Kael... but..."
Then silence.
And then the anger came.
She clutched the sheets, her whole body shaking as she screamed into the darkness.
"Where were you?"
Silence.
"You're supposed to protect me! You're supposed to be my wolf!"
Nothing.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, furious, desperate.
"Say something, Lira! Say anything!"
Still, nothing.
Now, Isla was alone, trapped in a pack that didn't trust her, carrying a past that refused to let her go.
She didn't trust the Moon Goddess.
She didn't trust the world.
A Predator's Interest
No one in Crimson Fang spoke to Isla unless they had to. No one trusted her. No one wanted her there.
She was an outsider.
And maybe that was better.
She had thought she could blend in. Train, do her chores, sleep. Repeat. Be invisible.
Except she wasn't.
Because Draven wouldn't let her be.
She felt him watching her-always. During training, when the warriors knocked her down harder than necessary. During meals, when she ate alone, pretending not to hear the whispers. Even in the quiet moments, when she thought she was **finally alone- **only to glance up and find his eyes on her.
Beware... For happiness does not last for eternity. It comes, but when it goes, sadness descends with severity.
-
Celeste blew out a breath of adoration, eyes trained on the handsome boy standing with a tall masculinity on the podium.
His lips were drawn into a thin line, his expression as blank as a sheet of paper and yet his beauty outranked every werewolf standing on the meeting grounds; both men and women.
Celeste wasn't sure how he did it, but every single thing he did made her heart flutter and her legs weak. He was the centre of her attention despite the many other people scattered around the vicinity.
His eyes...
His lips...
His body...
Every single aspect of him called out to her, but in what way could she respond?
Certainly not by confessing that she had many times drooled while watching him and certainly not by hunting him a darn rabbit!
But either way she chose to respond, it was no secret that he was out of her league; for one, he was the future alpha of this pack and added to that ball of misfortune, was the fact that he was her sister's boyfriend.
Tonight, twelve o'clock on the dot, would be the day they officially became mates.
You see, tomorrow was his birthday, the day he'd be able to scent his true mate and the
celebration was on the brink of starting.
The yard was full of mated and unmated wolves and women from the Forester pack as well as other packs stood in deep anticipation, praying to the heavens that they'd be the one.
Celeste stood in that deep anticipation too.
Though her sister was ninety nine percent his mate, she couldn't help but hope to be the remaining one percent.
At least then she'd have a teeny weeny chance to steal him from her b*tch of a sister.
Her sister... It's a hassle to even call her that.
She didn't act like a big sister much less a distant family member.
At school, Celeste was a victim to verbal abuse.
The kids there always taunted her and instead of taking her side, her sister would always take theirs.
'Why is Celeste so ugly when Celia
is sooo pretty?'
'Aren't they suppose to be twins?'
'Why is one hot and the other is not?'
LTE 73
It was a struggle to go to school everyday. She was the nobody, the odd one out and Celia was the one on top. She got everything she wanted, even mom and dad favoured her, leaving Celeste with no one, absolutely no one to turn to.
Sad isn't it? But Celeste was use to it by now.
With a sigh, she glanced at the woman next to her who kept whispering... "One minute left, one minute left, one minute left."
It was annoying, but it made Celeste's anticipation rise to a higher heights. In one minute, her world would turn upside down and she knew it.
The guy she had a crush on for years was about to fall in the hands of another. She didn't want to see that happen, especially when her sister's palm was stretched right open.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she took a shaky step back, eyes glancing at her life long crush one last time before turning her back.
Her steps took her down the dark path of the pack lands, her hands buried in her pockets and her heart buried in sadness.
If not Zillon Macre, then who would be her mate?
Nobody else made her feel the way he did, he was like an angel to her. Everything about him was perfect, even when he was glaring or pouting.
But he wasn't hers and she had to live with tha
ー
With a certain suddenness, a hand grabbed
onto hers, squeezing her wrist in a vice grip.
A frightened gasp left Celeste's lips and without much thought, she turned to look at the perpetrator.
It was him, Zillon Macre, her angel.
His eyes were a blazing orange, signalling that his wolf had completely taken over and his blood red lips were drawn back in a sneer even as he pulled her against his thick and muscular chest.
"Mine." He grunted, arms encasing her in a very tight embrace. "Mate."
Those two words caused both Celeste's heart and body to freeze.
Mine...?
Mate..?
What was he talking about?
What was he talking about?
Did he think she was Celia?
Ignoring the denseness of her heart and the pleasurable sparks that seeped out of his touch, she pushed away from him. "Celia is somewhere in the dispersing crowd, I'm not yours, I'm not your mate."
Zillon's head tilted to the side, jaws clenching, grip tightening. "Mine...Mate...Mine!"
He pulled her back against him, nose latching onto the very crook of her neck where he proceeded to deeply inhale her scent. "Mark mate."
And without her consent, he did just that. His teeth had extracted and into the soft skin of
her neck was where they intrusively sank.
A cry of pain and pleasure had descended from her lips and like a dead man, she fell against his chest, lips ajar as she panted to catch her