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2,064,353	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064319}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Chapter 1 IRENE'S POV My chast heaved with rapid breaths, my eyes fluttered close. My lips fell open and a moan squeezed past my throat. My fingers were working overtime as I pushed them in and out of my wetness with my legs spread apart in bed. I bit the corners of my lips as I threaded my fingers through my hair, gripping them a bit hard like I suspected he would. I imagined his hands on me instead. His long fingers sliding in and out, coated with my juices. He would stroke my insides while holding my legs apart. "Karson," I moaned when his image was all I could see. I reached out my hand to touch him. To touch his rock hard body and trail my fingers down his chast to the V-line where his towel had hung loose. His scent was buried in my memory. All it took was one sniff and here I was, moaning to this man and bucking my hiips. He looked so much better. His face was more defined and he grew so handsome in a short while. His shoulders were broad and wide. He had a perfect figure and toned body. I increased my pace and I gasped when I found it. I slapped a hand over my mouth. The rising heat in the lower part of my stomach increased. Tears rolled down my face. I craved his touch, his fire. My body ached for his attention, the warmth in his eyes, I desired nothing more- My toes curled and I jerrked my hiips as my body convulsed. I bit into my palm as my orggasm rolled out of me. It took a while to recover. I was breathing hard and trying to gather myself again. This was the state he left me in. every single time we bumped into each other. Just a whiff of his scent and I was squirming for his touch. I almost felt terrible for including him in my little session but he was all I could think about. I've been masturbatting frequently now. My mating ceremony to the man of my fantasies was today. One part of me was pleased and happy with the fact that I would have my long time dream come true; being mated to Karson. He was the soon to be Alpha of The Nightcrawlers Pride. I didn't care about his title, that wasn't the reason I loved him. With or without his title, I was bound to be drawn to him. While one part was pleased, the other part was devastated. As much as I wanted to be his mate, I wasn't. Even worse, Karson seemed to think that I had bewitched Luna- his mother- into arranging our marriage. "She's wolfless, mother," he had said during dinner tonight. His contempt was loud, his mock even louder. I withdrew my hands from the table and hid them under with my head lowered at the usual confrontation. "I know," Luna Teresa's reply was calm like she was unaffected by her son's cruel words. I wished his words wouldn't affect me at all. Yet every time he opened his mouth, I was close to tears. Maybe if I loved him any less, I would have tougher skin and wouldn't be running to my room crying like a three year old. He was right. I was wolfless. It wasn't impossible for a werewolf not to have a wolf, it was just rare to find and even rarer for that wolfless wolf to be Luna, ruling over a powerful pack as The Nightcrawlers Pride. According to the book of records in the Pack, I would be the first wolfless Luna. While breaking a record didn't seem too bad, this wasn't exactly the kind of record I would be boastful of. "Yet you would subject your only son and heir to the Pride Family Pack to this fate?" Karson had asked his mother in an accusing tone that made me stop feeling sorry for myself but sorry for her. A wolfless mate meant one of two things; There was a high chance of birthing a wolfless pup and there was a lower chance of birthing a pup- in this case, the next Alpha. I squeezed my dress in a fist. The pressure that was upon my shoulders was more than anyone could ever imagine. "I have strong faith in our genes," Aunt Teresa- as I'd come to know her, smirked. "After all, your father's family were all Alpha's, down to his mother. So you're from a thick and strong Alpha bloodline. I have faith in you-" "My goodness!" Karson huffed in disbelief. "Can you hear yourself, mother? You're betting everything away for her?" I wanted the soft dining chair that had suddenly grown cold under my bvtt to swallow me. "What’s so special about her anyways!" I've heard that before. It shouldn't be anything new. I've cried my eyes out to those words yet every time he asked, it was a whole different feeling than I had bargained for. I was plain. I had no scent, no wolf, no family. There was literally nothing to my name. All I had was everything Aunt Teresa had given to me since I was five. My parents died in a war and Luna had been so kind as to take me in. She couldn't recall my last name so she gave me Pride instead. I was already sharing a last name with the man I came to love. Karson and I lived under the same roof. Growing up around him had been okay. He never showed me this hate, he never even spoke to me except when we were at the table. But ever since he returned from his training where he stayed away to be Alpha for three years, things had gone down the drain. "This is your doing, isn't it?" I stiffened at his words and finally lifted my gaze. The anger and hate in his eyes was enough to let a tear slide down my eye. He was convinced I had bewitched Luna. After all, why would she decide to kil her own bloodline that had been passed down for years? I quickly wiped my eyes. I didn't want Luna to notice plus Karson would scold me and be cross at me if his mother confronted him about making me cry. I fear he was already running from my reach before I could even stretch out my hands. "I'm sorry, I have no hand in this," I said either way, knowing fully well that he wouldn't believe me. "Don't apologize for things that are beyond your control, Irene," Aunt Teresa wiped her mouth with her napkin and rose to her feet. "You two will be just fine. The mating ceremony is in a few days. Get to know yourselves a lot better," with her little advice, she walked away, allowing fear to step in. Karson would eat me alive now that we were alone. I wanted to run after Aunty but I knew it would be childish- "Don’t get any ideas in your head," Karson stated and I turned my attention to him. His words pierced me like a hot thin needle. "You're only my mother's choice. Once I find my mate, I'll have her as my Luna and you'll step down." I gulped and started to nod slowly at his words. "I don't need you to agree, Irene," he scoffed, reminding me that I didn't have a choice and that he called all the shots. "That's just the way it's supposed to be. Think of this as a way of repaying my mother's kindness all those years." Karson got up and walked out of the table. I tried my hardest to understand him. I guess, in a way, his hate was justified. He returned from his Alpha training only to discover he was arranged to be married. He was stripped of the chance to find his mate and he was stuck with someone as useless as myself. His words, his attitude had screamed one thing. 'Know your place, Irene,' and I read the message loud and clear. ************** Our mating ceremony was a long and torturous one for me. The Pack congratulated us endlessly and the smile I plastered on my face should leave a mark by morning. Karson stood stiffly by my side. We were now the new Alpha and Luna of The Nightcrawlers Pride and we were expected to carry out our duties immediately. While no one would say it, I knew that the 'baby making process' was expected as well. We headed to our new room to commence and mark the final activity for the mating ceremony. A day that I had looked forward to all my life. I was nervous and it didn't seem like a good one. I didn't know what to expect but I was already wet, my niples had rolled into tight buds and they tried to gain attention and drill a hole through my outfit. I stepped into the room before him. "I'll be right back," he said and I nodded, closing the door behind me. Immediately, I dashed to the bathroom and took a shower. I couldn't afford this moment to be ruined. I wrapped the towel around my chast and got out of the shower. My heart hammered in my chast. Karson was staring at me with his undivided attention. His gaze dropped lower and I tightened my hand around my towel. The air was thick and in an instant, he was taking long strides towards me. I met him half way and while my hands reached out to touch his face and pull him into a kiss, his hand grabbed my towel and he yanked it off. I gasped in shock but his hands grabbed my brreasts. I was immediately enveloped in the feel of him. I wrapped my hands around his back as he licked and softly nibbled on my hard niples. His rough hands trailed down my body and kicked my legs apart. He slid two fingers into my core and I gasped at the sudden intrusion. "How are you so wet?" He mumbled to himself. I couldn't breathe. His fingers were bigger than mine so they stretched me more than I had ever done to myself. I felt so full and I hadn't even had the real thing yet. He pumped into me hard and fast, soon my legs shook and my eyes were fluttering close. "Karson," I wanted it now. I wanted it right now. I wanted his shaft filling me up and I wanted his bite mark over my neck. "Fvcking hel, Irene!" He cursed and roughly pulled out his fingers. He grabbed my wrist and made me climb the bed, he pressed a hand to my waist and I knew what he wanted. I stayed ass up, face down. I was exposed to him in that position with my legs spread apart. I gripped the sheets beside my head and waited impatiently. The sound of his zipper fuelled my rising hunger and soon I felt something cold and hard poke at my entrance. Suddenly alarmed, I started to rise, "Karson, wait I've never-" He thrust his full length into me and my jaw dropped open. "Fvck! How are you so...tight!" Karson forced those words through his teeth. The sharp pain I felt was overwhelmed by the pleasure that came soon after. I felt him all the way to the back of my throat. My insides were stretched to their limit and when he pulled out and slammed back in, hard and fast, a tear rolled down my cheek. It was more than I had imagined. It was blissful. I could almost see it. The way he pulled back with my juices coating his shaft, inviting him to slam back in and when he did, I could only chew my lip and let out moans of pleasure. Our first night was pure fvcking and nothing else. I gripped the sheets as he grabbed my waist to meet and take his every thrust. I was gasping for breath and his thrusts were faster, shorter and harder. I wondered how it was even possible to move his hiips like that. I could barely catch my breath. If I died today, I would die a happy, wolfless wolf who finally married the man of her dreams. I needed his bite mark. "Karson," I managed to get the words out in between gasps and moans. My or9asm was sudden and instant. My body shook and convulsed as he kept up his thrusts. I squeezed my eyes shut as the electricity rolled through my vibrating core, clenching down hard on him and svcking him in. He grew harder under in an instant and I soon felt something warm in my belly and his shaft pulsed like a heart pumping. My body was spent and I was too weak to open my eyes. He pulled out and I let out a weak moan. I waited for his touch to find me but the only thing I heard were his footsteps and soon, the sound of the door opening and then closing- announcing his departure. Karson had left without leaving his mate bite behind. Chapter 2 IRENE'S POV I threw my head over her legs as I sobbed like a child. Her gentle pat landed on my head, over and over again. "It's going to be alright, Irene," Aunt Teresa said in a soothing voice. I shook my head against her hand. I could hear my heart breaking at his rejection and words of comfort reached nowhere near to piecing my heart together. "I mean it, Irene," Aunt Teresa sighed. She was adamant on making me feel good this morning. After Karson walked out of the room, he was yet to return and I just couldn't stand the terrible feeling that plagued my heart. So here I was in Aunt's room, crying my eyes out. "Don't shed so many tears, Irene. Your eyes will be puffy," she grabbed my face and jerrked my head up. I could barely see her through my blurry vision but her face was in a small pout and her brows were knitted in a frown. Her long black hair was let down and she looked like a goddess. "Look at you," she sighed. "You're so pretty, don't ruin your face, Irene." She wiped my tears with her thumb and pressed her lips to my forehead in a kiss. I closed my eyes as I tried to relax into it but more tears only poured out when I remembered that Karson didn't even kiss me. I 9roaned, throwing my head back as I sobbed even harder. "He didn't- hic- he avoided- hic- I don't know why- hic- but he didn't- hic-" "Stop crying, Irene. I can't make out your words-" "He didn't make out with me!" I cried harder and stopped to swallow the lump in my throat before I continued again. "It's because I'm wolfless and I'm not even his mate! I have nothing- he hates me," "He doesn't hate you," She tried to assure me. "He just doesn't understand-" "Understand what?" I cried. "I don't understand either. Make me understand-" "Irene!" She grabbed my face again and stared into my eyes. "You can't force your destiny. When the time is right, you'll understand. I have faith in you, Irene." I didn't even have faith in myself but her tone was convincing and the way she stared at me with no joke. She wiped my tears again and I didn't have the heart to produce any more. "Trust me, my dear. You're Luna now and I'm sure you'll be more powerful than ever before." I held onto her words and made them my strength but as the days rolled by, my frustration was beyond me that I would lock myself in my room- as Karson never returned- and cried. Our matrimonial bed had become my personal bed. The room we were supposed to share was now my own room. The only time we bumped into each other was during breakfast where we ate in silence or going past his office to mine. The Luna position came with a lot of responsibility and I was still being eased into it. But with Karson's attitude still on my mind, I was always mentally and emotionally stressed by the end of each day. "Luna, is everything alright?" I snapped out of my thoughts at the Beta's voice. Wayne stared at me with a worried look. He had been in my office for a few minutes now but I could hardly recall the issue he had raised. "I'm sorry," I hurriedly apologized and dropped my pen on the desk, giving him my full attention. "I'm fine. You were saying?" He didn't look the least convinced but he had to go on either way. He smiled and the wrinkles around his mouth stretched. He had gotten very old over the years, I guess it was time for him to retire but that was his and Karson's decision to make. "Maybe you should get some rest later,"he suggested and I could only offer him a smile. "I was asking your opinion about weapon storage in the Pack. While we don't have any impending threats, I was thinking it wouldn't be bad to restock and increase our budget." "A few of our warriors with friends from other packs have mentioned the endless amount of weapons over there. I'm afraid they feel ours is lacking behind," he explained. "I understand. But having an endless amount of weapons calls for a higher maintenance budget. If we do that, the tax will increase, the pack members will suffer and all we'll have are weapons while exploiting others," I sighed. "We're building a nation not a military zone. Even during war, we can have enough money and gain the upper hand." "I'm afraid I'll have to decline the request to stock more weapons. Instead, could we cover it by high maintenance of what we already have?" I suggested. Beta Wayne was already nodding with a satisfied smile on his face, "Yes, that could work. You're right. You're a blessing to us, Irene. Our budget is in safe hands. Our Alpha is really lucky to have you by his side." I smiled in response to his words and watched him excuse himself. It was only fair to have brains, in my opinion. After discovering I was wolfless, I trained myself in other ways to help strengthen the Pack and I knew I was successful each time I received praises. Even worse, there was something strange that I had started to notice. Wayne's daughter visited Alpha Karson every day. "Where is the Alpha, Joan?" I asked the maid that served my tea. "He's in his office, Luna," she fidgeted for a while, biting her lip. "With who?" I already knew what she wanted to say. The thought of her answer was already making me squeeze the document I was holding. "Lexie, Luna Irene," she replied in a murmur. I offered her a smile, "Thank you. You can go now." She bowed before rushing out of my office. I leaned back on my seat with a hand over my face and a tired sigh leaving my lips. Her constant visits to the Alpha's study was becoming alarming. They spent every minute together and he rarely had lunch or dinner with me. Her giggles were loud and every time I heard it, I could hear my heart breaking but I would lift my chin and wear a smile. I had loved Karson for years and a little thing like this shouldn't be able to shake me. I shrugged it off my shoulders and tried to concentrate on my duties. I successfully distracted myself till evening but soon came the migraines that were impossible to ignore. I called it a night and started to walk down the hallway. When I approached Karson's door, my heart began to pound. I wondered if he was still in and if he was with her. It was almost 9p.m already and she was supposed to be at home. Besides, I was yet to have dinner and I wondered if he had eaten too. He had successfully avoided me for a whole month, sharing his attention between his work and Lexie. It was strange to think about but I didn't want to ponder on that. Especially when my thoughts would play detective, questioning itself if she was his mate or not. But she wasn't of age yet for him to find out. That was the only thread of hope that I clung onto. "Maybe I could ask if we could have dinner together," I wondered and I slowed down when I got to his door. Karson's scent was faint but it tickled my nose either way, making my niples hard and my core already wet. Being wolfless, I could hardly distinguish between people by their scent nor could I smell everyone but Karson's scent was one I had thought myself to remember. His scent was like wild roses in an open field while Aunt Teresa's scent was warm and sunny. I cherished the little gift I had from having two werewolf parents as Aunt Teresa had told me. We never spoke much about them and I wondered why. All I knew was that they were good people who would do anything for the ones they loved. Sometimes, I wondered if they didn't love me enough to stay alive. Exhaling softly, I held the cold door knob of Karson's office and I pushed it open. "Karson, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with-" The rest of the words died in my throat. My eyes widened and I heard my own heart shatter. Dizziness washed over me and my knees wobbled but I gripped the door hard to keep standing. Karson had Lexie in his arms in a hug while he backed her against his desk. His mouth was on her neck and the way she held onto him tightly as if she was in slight pain, I could already tell what was going on. The mate bite he had refused to give me, he was bestowing it upon her. He had marked her without even stopping to consider our mating ceremony- Was she... No! I shook my head even as my thoughts already confirmed it. My lips trembled as tears filled my eyes at the realization. Karson was hel bent upon meeting his mate. He hates our arranged marriage because he didn't have the chance to find his destined mate. She was his mate. The sight before my eyes was growing on my pierced heart that continued to shatter even more. The sight burned right into my head that I was sure I could never forget it even if I were to lose my memory today. I would at least remember that the only man I had ever loved, had finally found his mate and I was nothing to him. I stepped away from the door like it would explode at any minute. "You're only my mother's choice," his words before our mating ceremony began to hunt me. My breathing became ragged and I clutched my chast, tugging at the neck of my dress as I found it hard to breathe. I staggered backwards with eyes wide in horror. I turned and ran into my room, slamming the door behind me. I sagged to the floor with my knees hunched up to my chast. My hands shook and so did my shoulders. The tears fell and all I could do was stare into my palm before slowly placing it over my face. Chapter 3 IRENE'S POV The pain I felt was like a deep hollow of nothingness that delved deeper and deeper even when I tried not to think about last night. The image was engraved in my head. I hadn't slept a wink. I sat up in my bed all night with my thoughts all over hel's half acre. My shoulders were slumped and my hair was let loose to drop down, covering the side of my face. There was a knock on my door but I didn't lift my eyes from the sheets. The knock sounded again and it took a while to recover. I lifted my gaze and sighed, drilling a hole into the door. I didn't want any visitors. I simply wished to sit in my bed all day but that couldn't happen. I muttered a weak "come in," and mentally mocked my sorry tone. "Luna?" A maid stepped in and I locked eyes with her. She gasped with her eyes going wide for a brief second before she lowered her eyes. Did I really look that bad in just one night? "B-breakfast has been served and the Alpha's mother has asked me to come fetch you," she stuttered. "I see," I sighed again and started to drag myself out of bed. My knees were weak from holding me up. "Bring out something for me to wear and... Some make-up for my face." "Y-Yes, Luna!" I showered quickly and dressed up fast. When I stared into the mirror, I shook my head at my sorry self. My eye bags were bad and there were dark circles too. I looked like I had been crying all night. The maid helped in applying the pancake and covering it up. I thanked her and rushed for breakfast after practicing my smile in the mirror. I was going to act like there was no weight in my heart and no turbulence in my head. But my smile froze when I got to the table. Lexie was laughing with Aunty and Karson had a smile on his face while he ate- that was something that had never happened. "Oh, Luna," Lexie's voice was high and she sounded elated. "You're here. We've been waiting for you. Breakfast is almost cold." She was a very pretty young woman with bob brown hair, an oblong face, love shaped bow lip and her body figure was very matured. Her b00bs were bigger than mine and so were her legs. This was probably Karson's type. What was she doing here? Why was she here? She had no right to be here- unless... "Lexie, here, joined us for breakfast," Aunt explained. She probably read the confusion on my face. "Sorry, if it's uncomfortable for you," Lexie said and nervously rubbed her hand on her neck. I saw it. She knew I saw it. The band-aid on her neck was no joke. I had lost Karson and she was making that clear. She didn't have breakfast with us every other day. It was just that one time but it sent a clear message to me. My days in his life were numbered. I went down for breakfast with a thudding heart and anxiousness in my womb. Their silence was taking a toll on me. I wondered if it was their plan to drive me mad so they could find an excuse to kick me out but Karson didn't need an excuse to get rid of me. He could do it whenever he wanted since he had found his mate. So why was he holding back? Why were they keeping their affair a secret? My thoughts were ferocious and they showed no mercy. A minute of idleness and I was sinking deep into depression. I picked up more work than usual. An attempt to keep my mind occupied and busy was starting to weigh down on me. I left my office by 2a.m. every day, only to return by 8a.m. I had no complaints whatsoever but after a week, I noticed the workload started to reduce. The usual heap of files I arranged for myself were halved and I was rounding off sooner than I wanted. "Raphael, why is there so little work to do?" I voiced my complaints to the Gamma of the Pack. He was arranging a few files for me to check out and I was already frowning at how little they were. "Shouldn't you be happy?" He asked instead. "You've been working too much of late," he was one of the few who could speak freely to me despite my Luna title. He was a good friend of mine despite still being Karson's Gamma. "I'm not complaining," I told him. "What happened to all the work?" I wanted to sink into work and nothing more. It was my only means of escape at this point. "Well, Alpha Karson shared some of your Luna duties to Lexie-" "What?" I must've misheard. I refused to believe my ears. "What did you just say?" Raphael met my gaze with caution. He was probably debating whether or not to repeat that. In the end, he did. "But, I don't understand... Am I doing something wrong? Did I make a mistake somewhere-" "No, never. Irene, you're perfect. You've been doing everything right from the very beginning," he encouraged, pulling me out from the hands of criticism that my thoughts had wrapped around me. "Then why? I am Luna. Only Luna should handle Luna affairs," I said more to myself, trying to understand the situation and give reasons why it wasn't even making any sense. Raphael glanced away for a moment and my heart sank. "You've been noticing it too, haven't you?" "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you so you wouldn't worry so much," He made an apologetic face. "I simply carried out the order. Maybe you could ask him sometime," he suggested. "Would you like to go for a walk? To clear your mind at least?" This was happening too fast for me to wrap my head around. I swallowed hard as I looked around my office. Since when was there a deputy Luna? What was Karson's aim in all of this? Was he trying to ridicule my position or make me know my place? I nodded and he smiled, turning away immediately. "Would you like ice cream or sandwich along the way-" "R-Raphael?" I called and stepped out from behind my desk. He was already at the door when he turned to face me. " Let's go for a smooke break instead," I needed another form of distraction since Karson had taken this one away from me. "What do you mean?" He asked, sounding suspicious. "I want to smooke too." *** My workload reduced as my deputy Luna took her work seriously. Day by day I did less work but I occupied myself with smooking in my bathroom whenever I could. It was relaxing and it helped me let out some steam. I was in my room by 6pm. that evening, smooking again when I heard a knock on the door. I froze for a moment, looking at the door with furrowed brows. I wasn't expecting anyone. Plus Karson never came here. He had his own room now. "Who is it-" "Irene, dear? Can I come in?" Aunt Teresa's voice had me slamming the ci9arette on the ashtray. I carried it to the bathroom and dumped it in the sink. I rushed out and grabbed my perfumes, spraying the air with my heart beating wildly in my chast. After I sniffed the air and made sure the ci9arette smell was gone, I took a deep breath and opened the door. Her shiny face and warm smile came into view. She stood in a composed manner with her head tipped up. Aunty could never be caught without the aura and grace of a queen. I ushered her in with more enthusiasm than normal and I hoped she wouldn't notice. "You finished your duties a little early. That's good. Why didn't you come over to my room so we could talk?" She wondered, heading to the dropped curtains. "It's quite dark in here," she mumbled to herself and spread the curtain open. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the light. I preferred the dark and gloomy area. It was a perfect place to hide my shame. How could I even look at myself in the mirror and call myself a Luna? I was a sorry excuse for one. "I didn't want to disturb you with my issues," I intertwined my fingers over my legs as I stood by the door with my eyes on the floor of where she was. She turned her body in my direction, "Oh? That's a first. Is something going on?" Something? More than enough was going on and I doubted Aunty even knew half of it. "Not at all," I shook my head. If Karson wouldn't tell her, then I wouldn't dare to mention it. Aunt Teresa was a supportive mother to both Karson and I. I wondered how she would react to Karson finally finding his mate. I wouldn't want to put her at a crossroad. Actually, I think I just couldn't bear the thought of Aunt Teresa picking Lexie over me. It hurt that Karson already did but it would hurt me more and rip my heart out if the only mother figure I've known all my life were to discard me like I meant nothing. "It's your birthday tomorrow," she announced. "Did you forget?" "Oh," a day I had always looked forward to was now insignificant to me. "I guess I did." She sighed, "Perhaps are you working too much, Irene?" I almost scoffed with my vision blurred with tears, "No, that's impossible. I'm not even doing nearly enough." "What do you mean? You work everyday and you're doing good," she defended. "Are you crying again?" I couldn't help it. My chin was trembling as I tried to hold back my tears. It felt as though a dam was about to break. I felt like a worthless piece of crap. Karson couldn't even trust me with Luna duties anymore, he handed them over to that other woman. What was I thinking? I was actually the "other woman" in their relationship. I was an outsider who could never take the place of his mate. Not that I even wanted to try- far from it! I just wanted Karson to acknowledge my love for him and my efforts to make him happy and satisfied. Was that really too much to ask? I was in Aunt Teresa's embrace by the time I recovered myself. She wrapped her arms around me as I tried to control my sobs. "Don't doubt yourself so much, my dear. Everything will be just fine," she reassured and I nodded even though I knew things wouldn't be fine. They would only get worse and worse with each passing day. I made up my mind to confront Karson about what he had done rather than allow myself to wallow and sink further into self pity and doubt. Aunt Teresa left after informing me she would be returning from a short trip tomorrow evening to celebrate my birthday with me. I took a shower and by evening I was heading to Karson's room. My head was throbbing from a dull headache that had become a constant thing every evening for a week now and my temperature was quite high. I made it to Karson's room and after practicing controlled breathing up to five times, I knocked. "Come in," his voice was soft and it made my heart melt. For a second there I wondered if he was expecting someone else. I walked into his room with his scent hitting me first. It's been a while since I stepped into his personal space. The last time I did that, I nearly had a heart attack from what I saw. Karson was seated on his king sized bed with his head turned to a document. He had moved back to his old room. While everything was familiar in here, the one thing that wasn't was this hot man in nothing but his dark blue pants. I almost drooled just by staring at his chast and bulging muscles. When next would I get to touch his body- "I suppose you didn't come here to stare, right?" His voice interrupted my thoughts and gone was the soft tone that I had received outside the door. He was back to his usual self and cold tone especially with the way he gazed at me with no atom of smile on his face. I summon my courage, "Right. I came because I need answers. You handed part of my duties to Lexie and I'd appreciate it if you could tell me why." His brow arched in a silent question, "It's been a week already. Why is it suddenly so important to know?" He was right. I had taken too long to question him. I should've headed into his office the first time I heard the news. "I know. I've only been wondering if there was something I wasn't doing right," I stated while trying to keep a straight face. "So I took the time to look inwards and question myself-" "There's no need for you to do that, Irene," he tilted his head. "You've managed the Packs finances very well while making sure there's adequate supply of everyone's needs." His compliment left me stunned as I never expected it from him. "Then," I took a step closer. "Why is Lexie acting as a deputy Luna? It is unheard of that Luna's duties are given to someone else. Is there something I should know-" "If that'll be all, I'd like to get back to my duties now. As you can see," he lifted the document slightly. "I'm still occupied." I gaped at him in shock. He was openly dismissing my question about Lexie. Was this what it had come to? "It's my birthday tomorrow," I announced with my eyes on the sheets, wondering if he had ever taken Lexie here and did to her what he did with me during the night of our mating ceremony. Was he more pasionate and gentle? Did he hold her after- I let out a harsh breath as there was nothing but silence. He had turned his attention back to his work and it showed that I wasn't needed here anymore. I quietly left his room and I doubted he even noticed that I was gone. I spent the night with a high fever and a headache but by morning after throwing up a few times, I realized what my condition was. I threw out the ci9arettes and got rid of the ash tray. I got naked and stood in front of a mirror. My breests were fuller and my niples had spread and were wider. Karson would've noticed if he had spared me a minute or more of his time for a little visit. I needed to get out of here. This place was no longer my home. It was only a matter of time before Karson would welcome his mate to his side and she would be made Luna as soon as possible. There was nothing left for me here; not in the pack and not even by his side. I did the only thing I could do at this point; the only thing Karson would appreciate and probably love me for someday... I ran. Chapter 4 IRENE'S POV FIVE YEARS LATER "Carl! Karin! Mummy's leaving!" The nanny announced with a loud voice and in less than two seconds, two preschoolers ran out with their chubby cheeks. The boy- Carl- was holding his favorite dinosaur toy with his black hair disheveled on his head. His smile was wide as he ran out and his arms opened wide while Karin- the girl- had her usual frown on her face. She practically glared at everything as she approached. I squatted before the couch as they approached me. I wrapped my arms around them, pulling them into a hug when they got closer. "M-Mummy," Carl stuttered excitedly. When I pulled away and stared into their faces, Karin was wearing a smile. She only ever smiled when she was around me. The nanny was already complaining that she was scared of her. But what could a four year old do to a full grown woman? "Karin, did you pull your brother's hair again?" I arched my brows and she tensed with her smile freezing on her face. Her dark hair was in two ponytails. I wondered how long it had taken Nanny May to successfully do that. She shook her head aggressively and I glanced at Carl who was already playing with his dinosaur. Ignoring our conversation like it was past tense to him. "Are you lying?" I tried again and when she nodded, I covered my face with a smile. "Your honesty is appreciated but you have to stop pulling his hair. You'll turn him into an old man." I could feel my wolf smiling proudly as we stared at the duo who almost never got along. It almost reminded me of the relationship I had with their father. "Anyways!" I said to my pups and to my thoughts but that got their attention anyways. "I'm leaving-" "Where?" Karin's frown was back on her face- she was the bossy one- and Carl looked like he was about to start crying. "N-No no, I'll be back soon, I promise. I have to meet up with the Alpha," I touched their cheeks and brought them closer for a kiss. "Remember, do not shift before anyone except me, okay?" I repeated the only rule we had and they nodded in silence. "Thank you, baby," I kissed their foreheads and spoke loudly this time, "Make sure to listen to Nanny May, okay?" But they were already running away before I could get the words out. I stepped out of the house with a weird feeling in my chast. It always felt this way whenever I had to leave them with anyone even for a second. Especially now that I'd be away for two nights. I trusted the twins not to break the rule but it was concerning to think about. They were only four years old. Since when did four year olds start to shift? Heck! I didn't even get my wolf until after I gave birth. It was a whole new experience for me, especially trying to connect with her. The link between us was like a thin thread but it had gradually advanced over the years. "Ready to go?" I was pulled out of my thoughts at the sound of my Alpha's voice. A bulky man with light brown skin and wild hair. Despite being in his thirties, he didn't look a day over twenty. He still looked so young and agile. Alpha Lucas was leaning over his Jeep and I rushed to him. We got into the car and drove down to where the meeting was supposed to take place. It was the third cross pack meeting our Pack would hold after five years and I was really looking forward to it. I had received his orders to participate and I had already prepared my speech but my stomach still tied itself in a knot due to nervousness. It had been a long time since I was made to handle such responsibility. I knew I was once Luna for The Nightcrawlers Pride and I delivered speeches to the Pack during the time I was there but that was a long time ago. We arrived at the hotel scheduled for the meeting in less than two hours and the hall was already filled with Alpha's of different pack's and their Beta's, talking and catching up while others were getting to know each other. "You look nervous," Alpha Lucas leaned down to whisper close to my ears. I blinked up at him, a bit uncomfortable by his sudden closures and he smiled, taking a step back. "Is it that obvious?" My cheeks were flushed from the idea of everyone reading my body language. I had gained a few of their attention but I lifted my head and avoided their gaze. I knew how Alpha's could get with their ego's. I wouldn't want to step on toes here. "Only to me," he shrugged. "But you look elegant and calm like a Luna," he complimented and I smiled tightly at the use of that title. No one in The Howlers Pack knew of my past. When I ended up here five years ago, I was almost knocked over by his car. He took me in as a rogue who had decided to acknowledge an Alpha and we've not once talked about my past, not even when I found out I was pre9nant. "You say the loveliest things to me, Alpha Lucas," I told him and I really meant it. He was like that guardian angel that kept cheering me on. "You know I would say even lovelier things and do much more for you if you agree to be my mate," he tried again with a daunting smile on his lips. He was a very good looking man who could get away with anything if he smiled. It was sad to know he lost his mate several years ago and he never spoke about her. He was convinced I was his second chance mate and he had been trying, for what three to four years now? I had lost count of how many times he had tried to convince me but each time I repeated the same old lines. "You're talking to a-" "...a brick wall whose heart can never beat again," he rolled his eyes as he finished my lines. "I know, I know. I've heard that before. Sometimes I wish I could find the basstard who dared to break your heart and make him pay." I laughed, placing a hand on his arm. It was funny hearing him say that and also very sweet. He cared deeply about me and I knew I could never repay his kindness in the way he wanted. "Can I see the list of Pack's that'll be attending?" I asked, changing the topic and he went along with it. He handed me a book that had all the twenty lists of Pack names with their Alpha and I scanned them. Eighteen out of twenty had already ticked in while two were left out. "Black Might Pack- Alpha John and Beta Phillip," I mumbled, reading to myself. "And The Nightcrawlers Pride," I froze and stopped breathing. I caught a whiff of something familiar in the air. It sparked memories that I had sought to bury. The scent of wild rose filled my nose and I gulped as I slowly lifted my gaze towards the door. I held the gaze of familiar black eyes that made my heart slowly start beating again before picking up the pace. He occupied the whole room and everyone else disappeared. He scanned the room as he buttoned his black suit that hugged his wide frame. His eyes landed on mine and I felt my heart skip a nervous beat. He was staring and I couldn't bring myself to look away. Could he recognise me? I wasn't the same woman when I left the pack five years ago. I was way different as my body had developed and I had added flesh in all the right places. Still he stared like he knew and I saw recognition flash in his orbs. "Irene, are you okay?" I felt Alpha Lucas place a hand on my shoulder with his tone filled with worry and just like that, Karson's brows furrowed in a deep frown as his eyes darted back and forth in an angry and suspicious stare between me and my new Alpha.	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2,064,362	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,364	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,363	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,368	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448731292_973317731140374_4061053005564536888_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gcwujW7UobAQ7kNvgElEerE&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYCqcj_PaFGnOhIXwoeKPamGmMQDxEQZuUs7y1ce4jzyDw&oe=6702684B	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,366	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448731292_973317731140374_4061053005564536888_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gcwujW7UobAQ7kNvgElEerE&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYCqcj_PaFGnOhIXwoeKPamGmMQDxEQZuUs7y1ce4jzyDw&oe=6702684B	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,381	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064379}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	4 Interest-free Payments	Self-Love Shines Bright: Adorn Yourself with Beautiful Jewelry.💃 ✅Any order 10%off & more promotions enjoy now Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo 🎁Free shipping & Easy return🎁	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,815	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460427629_538403225414491_7502978069014183237_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UYcI-YKW014Q7kNvgEpEEXU&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYD5p0cXLpJ2cWZ-12bLPMpiAxcNDAmBx2LmCgTqKyakTg&oe=67027C39	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,380	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064379}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	best seller	Shine every day with our jewelry.💘 ✅Any order 10% off and more promotions enjoy now. Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo 🎁Free shipping & Easy return🎁	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,815	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459569227_1788831758191007_7192030118368175090_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qPoeGN5DpKoQ7kNvgHQuyUc&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYDOO4rgblMM4UACS4E9M2XeqZN10bapnHOAbBY3fegwSg&oe=67026E89	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,383	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064379}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	best seller	🔥 Forget occasions, this is jewelry for every day.🔥 ✅Any order 10% off and more promotions enjoy now. Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo 🎁Free shipping & Easy return🎁	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,815	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460810209_1904331173406885_4126238492822314145_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mcQqcMwHjAQQ7kNvgE006UX&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYDgMqDE6FIKc0PbA-iJ5Ym7Ci1W_6fcr1BAG3YNQlD0AQ&oe=6702547D	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,382	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064379}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	best seller	Self-Love Shines Bright: Adorn Yourself with Beautiful Jewelry.💃 ✅Any order 10%off & more promotions enjoy now Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo Free shipping & Easy return✈️	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,815	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/456297866_1518979395717249_8161438483096856248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9hKaCXfaLfEQ7kNvgFgbjsd&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYD2DO_mVz-XwhhipdZpwiXfGbY5a93XiAWeS5zgwarUvw&oe=670260E5	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,396	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064379}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	best seller	Self-Love Shines Bright: Adorn Yourself with Beautiful Jewelry.💃 ✅Any order 10%off & more promotions enjoy now Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo 🎁Free shipping & Easy return🎁	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,815	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/452570049_825288666360301_9122131705958994872_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kogkgcoYfr4Q7kNvgFbWqQn&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYCOHdan6Vf6XDsnoT9iRXDOp1AAWWs6cM08bDg0KqG7GA&oe=67025CEC	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,401	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453179940_1975169659583049_5683424097736557035_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b9u5rYhOHxcQ7kNvgG0BOEn&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYAiUxhUWTvq1DVw5cXg1ayPhLK1e2BvUDwxICAbieivJg&oe=67024FDF	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,399	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	💔Everyone in Norvania knew who Nathan Morrison was. But nobody knew I was his wife. More sadly, when I was tortured by criminals, he was sleeping with another woman...	LEARN_MORE	https://theryfhvn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1102	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	theryfhvn.com	VIDEO	😍Read the next chapters👉	https://theryfhvn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11024&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/451589518_457435237072332_5993623328606249911_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kw07aQx3XKQQ7kNvgE5qyCW&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYDEkNhIp-AxeDCYZ5MVeV7lYbBws9EewmyAhcQ1VzD7-A&oe=67025BC1	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,371	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448916543_502070082268628_4383741934976369995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BA-KoieDykQQ7kNvgGjYV1p&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYAu5XyvBtsn1Vm0FvP-Zw8AvaOiIh5vlzx7CDgfOzQV0w&oe=670279D0	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,292	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064274}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	The Vampire And His Blood Wife👉👉👉	The Vampire And His Blood Wife ONLY on Drama Time.🎬 Don't miss out! Watch the series you've been wanting to see. No regrets, just pure entertainment! #Must SeeTV #No Regrets #Watch Now	WATCH_MORE	https://fblp.drama-time.com/DT-yrccXV-0905-EN-2240	Romantic Love	https://www.facebook.com/61557838064349/	176	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More	fblp.drama-time.com	DCO		https://fblp.drama-time.com/DT-yrccXV-0905-EN-224087.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=1749262542004264962	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460916914_551488160923683_3821917721602954610_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xreutXy1aYMQ7kNvgFTZtpe&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKuZyqMwL-AeyJvhm5Xi4Tl&oh=00_AYBmvo95Tm9hPWqKXfBAvT5u9gjRXY_PuwQ0U8kM3YbN_Q&oe=67025285	PERSON_PROFILE	Romantic Love	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,360	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448731292_973317731140374_4061053005564536888_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gcwujW7UobAQ7kNvgElEerE&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYCqcj_PaFGnOhIXwoeKPamGmMQDxEQZuUs7y1ce4jzyDw&oe=6702684B	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,370	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448916543_502070082268628_4383741934976369995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BA-KoieDykQQ7kNvgGjYV1p&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYAu5XyvBtsn1Vm0FvP-Zw8AvaOiIh5vlzx7CDgfOzQV0w&oe=670279D0	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,403	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064401}'	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453069853_1897315640736226_2919426861757606419_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hYkcvDpc0WQQ7kNvgGXozoQ&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYCgKuCCoqLaYP_GEbMect-4yrRFm6tzi_IwNzEZo_BW-w&oe=67025EE3	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,238	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	50% Off + Free Shipping!	Help your little one drift off peacefully with the enchanting Owl Musical Player—soothing melodies and adorable design! 🦉🌙	SHOP_NOW	https://shopatlittlewonders.com/products/owl-music	Little Wonders	https://www.facebook.com/shopnewlittlewonders/	5	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	shopatlittlewonders.com	VIDEO	⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5/5 Reviews!	https://shopatlittlewonders.com/products/owl-musical-player	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/451412025_485021930744074_3925080999223138607_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ziuSQ6G4_vsQ7kNvgHOSTha&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&oh=00_AYD8LaBKdwLT8LzfpvG7I4kgZ3wPbwnUH3Ww2Bc9aPZqZg&oe=67025820	PERSON_PROFILE	Little Wonders	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,282	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064279}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	Download Now👉👉👉	My Mom is a Big Shot ONLY on Drama Time.🎬 Don't miss out! Watch the series you've been wanting to see. No regrets, just pure entertainment! #Must SeeTV #No Regrets #Watch Now	WATCH_MORE	https://fblp.drama-time.com/IY6bS7-0530-EN-668636.	Amazing dramaapp		0	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More	fblp.drama-time.com	DCO		https://fblp.drama-time.com/IY6bS7-0530-EN-668636.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=1749262542004264962	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/445370170_939571347949573_7395819333494214654_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WhwedBqBopcQ7kNvgGMYGnW&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKuZyqMwL-AeyJvhm5Xi4Tl&oh=00_AYCvglMEr-PnzlTbdEGNsBGaaao_La0bX4litJuTIva7hw&oe=67024B8D	REGULAR_PAGE		1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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