The Celebrity Luna

Calista’s POV

I was still a kid when escalating tensions between the so-called rogues and the Lakewood pack led to a full-blown war.

The group of erring werewolves were ambitious enough to carve out a space for themselves in the wild where they could call their home, but the Lakewood pack warriors were heartless enough to attack the structure and burn it down to bits.

They didn’t stop there, they took every child they could lay their hands upon in the rogue pack, hostage for enslavement purposes, of which I was one. No adult rogue wolf escaped the Lakewood pack warriors’ claws, they all died at the hands of the ferocious warriors, and my parents were also killed in the onslaught.

At the Lakewood pack, after I grew up a little, I was made to serve as a slave in the chambers of the Beta, Barak Maximoff.

From that moment onwards, Barak began to maltreat me, he treated me with great disdain, punishing me for every slight wrongdoing, and he even turned me into his official punching bag. Whenever he is addressing me, he would often say, every offspring of a rogue is accursed and, deserves to suffer, and he always made true to his words; he dealt with me at every given opportunity.

I overheard him, telling his kids that his father was killed by some rogue werewolves, and since then his hatred for rogue werewolves was aggravated. He labeled me and others like me, villains, just because of my ancestral lineage. If he had his way, I know, he would have just killed me outrightly, but a certain policy that the Lakewood Alpha, Malik Brooks put in place to preserve law and order in the pack hindered him from carrying out his vendetta.

The policy states that; every species that’s allowed to live in the Lakewood pack, is already a bona-fide citizen, and as a Lakewood pack citizen, any questionable, vile, and weighted act carried against you, would be tried, but in spite of this, Barak would do whatever he likes with me, and he would often brag that he’s the law, and even above the law.

I was literally made to wear tattered and worn-out clothes, but when the other pack members began to raise eyebrows, my wardrobe was patched a little. From time to time, as a form of punishment, I was starved and even made to eat the leftovers.

Several times, I contemplated suicide, but I would still find myself mumbling that “the better days are coming”, and even as hopeless as it seemed, I continued to endure my misery.

Occasionally, I would burst out crying, for absolutely no reason, I was being persecuted for being the villain I never was. Is it my fault that my mother or father was probably expelled from a pack? or is it my fault that they had unprotected sex, not thinking of how the pup they could bring forth would fare? is it still my fault, that I was brought into the world to inherit “the accursed species” label? There was no one to answer my questions.

I guess I would have to blame my parents for my predicaments, but what would blaming the dead result to? As I grew older it became more glaring to me that my life was in my hands, and no one is coming to save me, except myself.

I was standing by at the dining table when these thoughts roamed through my mind. My eyes were getting heavy, and water began to form around my eyes, but I tried to control myself. I didn’t want to cry in the presence of Barak and his family.

I had to stand by, whenever Barak and his family members were eating, and until the last person on the table finished their meal, I mustn’t leave the dining room. Matilda was a slow eater, I guess she often deliberately eat slowly, to make sure I wait on her for extra minutes. After her father, she was my biggest adversary, I guess she’s just displaying the fruits that her father had invested in her.

When she was finally done with her meal, I heaved a sigh of relief and started to pack the used plates and utensils onto a tray. Usually, Jeremy’s plates and dishware were the first things I do pack. Jeremy was the youngest child of Barak, and he has a habit of not finishing the enormous food that he’s served.

Barak instructed the chef, to not serve me food, more than once a day, and the food should be nothing but a small quantity. Though on some occasions, the chef was compassionate enough to serve me large portions of food, it still wasn’t enough to sustain me for the whole day, so I’d always augment it with leftovers.

Thankfully, Jeremy left a large portion of food over today. I was jumping for joy on the inside, I glanced at Matilda’s face, and she sneered, it seemed like she could read my mind. I finished stuffing the plates onto the tray, and I started walking towards the kitchen, where I’ll eat the leftover before properly washing the plates.

Matilda was still seating on the dining table, slowly sipping water from the glass cup, but the moment I started to make my way toward the kitchen, Matilda stood up, and she started to walk in my direction.

I paused my walk midway to avoid clashing with Matilda, but she also paused and waved her hand, giving me a sign, to continue my journey.

While I proceeded to the kitchen, I gaped at her face, because it wasn't in Matilda's character to let me have my way. Her face was unreadable, but it seemed that she was up to something, I just couldn't pinpoint my speculation.

Lo and behold, while I was still staring at her face, Callista proved my speculation right. In a split second, she intentionally placed her leg on my way, consequently causing me to trip and fall, and also causing the ceramic plates that I was carrying to break into pieces.

As the ceramic plates fell off my hands, “BANG!” they made a loud noise, upon landing on the ground, and broke into pieces.