Blood of the Chosen

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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(Keera's POV)

*Put your hand on the crystal and close your hands, draw out the beast that resides in you from within, only then can you be called a werewolf, the noble beasts of the seven kingdoms.*

The voice echoed as I stood alone in the dark tent, my only source of light was the shining crystal mounted on the altar. This was not my first attempt, in fact, this was my eighteenth time in this tent, desperately trying to force out the 'soul' within me.

I took a deep breath and flexed my hands, cracking every bone in my fingers and wrists, which helped calm my anxious heart. Removing all thoughts from my mind, I made my way to the altar placing my hands on the orb.

The electric sensation crept suddenly to my fingers, numbing my entire body, but my heart was strangely at ease. It felt as if I was pulled to a calm island and all I needed to do was force the entity that resides in there to come out.

"Hello," I tried to communicate but I could not even speak before a force dragged me out of the Island.

"What the heck?" I screamed at the person at the back, my face scrunched up like a rag.

"Are you stupid? You are seriously bleeding and you are still holding on? You are not ready Keera." Mason scolded me while wiping out the blood from my nose. That was when it occurred to me that I was actually bleeding.

My face fell faster than a crashing plane, and before I could comprehend, I ran off, ignoring Mason's calls behind me.

"How long? I have been waiting desperately to clock 18 so I can summon my wolf, I'm 18 now and suddenly can't shift like every normal wolf. Everyone in my age have already summoned their wolf, what is this?" I cried out, my eyes swollen beyond recognition.

"Why are they so miserable? It's so frustrating." I shouted punching a rock with full force. The rock flew with speed and almost crashed into a delicate and petite girl of my age.

"No," I closed my eyes and held my hands on my head, my entire body shivering with fear.

"Are you done? You crybaby. Apart from whining and crying, what actually do you do all day?" A cold childish voice sounded.

"Eh," my mouth stood agape as I tried to comprehend how a girl that was almost 50miles could reach me in a millisecond.

"What?" The girl raised her eyebrows at me, staring at me like I was a fool. Her arrogance came as a shock to me. No matter how everyone treats me, no one usually shows their hatred so openly due to my mother's status.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, rapidly regaining my composure.

"Of course I know, who does not know who you are? You are Keera, the daughter of the purest wolf, Viva Lovebird. You are the waste that cannot get her wolf out at age eighteen, the entitled brat who believes her life is miserable even when you literally have the entire wolf clan at your beck and call, that miserable being, isn't that you?"

"I know you, you are Alana right?" My smile instantly brought back the memory of who the girl was. I met her in the last foggy hunt, she won then. She became my once in a while talking friend since then. But each time I don't seem to recognize her at sight.

"Yes, you're right. Alana, the storm wolf, the chosen one of brute strength." She replied, grining.

"I wish that rock had smashed your head." I hissed and walked past Alana.

The chosen one of brute strength? So what? She is just a storm wolf, the lowest wolf of the Clan, no matter how much she tries, she can never get rid of her bloodline limitations. She can't be compared to me even when I'm a wannabe wolf with just some animalistic strength. I am way better.

This was my confidence! No matter how much I fail to awaken my wolf, as the only surviving Lovebird, the purest bloodline of the wolf tribe, I am already destined to be far more competent than any wolf.

"It could even be possible that I am facing such setbacks because of how unique my blood is?" I tried to make myself happy as I proceeded to the square.

(Alana's POV)

"What a waste of space." I could not help but utter. "How can someone be so shameless? She has no power at all, absolutely no physical strength and yet she tries to feel on top of the world? A total closer on every count."

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