Lunar Whispers

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 Kickass Heroine Comeback Revenge

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Hello, dear readers.

We all love a slow burn, hate-to-love story, right?

What if they are fated mates? But the fate is too twisted for it to be a simple happily ever after.

It is the story of Amara and Alpha Damein, and of the cursed bond they shared.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Please feel free to leave your reviews.

Amara's POV

Love's beauty shines,

a radiant glow

Warming hearts,

and lighting the way to go

But is it all a lie,

a fleeting disguise?

For love can quickly turn,

to an ugly surprise.

'With these bare hands, I am going to twist his head from his neck,'

It was the only thought that rushed through my head as my hands wrapped around the shivering figure of my sister, shuddering in fear.

"No," She said.

"No, please no," She was whimpering.

Erica looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears, "He-He said I am to be there by 8...Amara, I cannot," She cried out.

"I know, my love. You won't have to,"

How can she? Erica hated him. We all hated him. He was a beast. An ugly beast.

She was only 19, while Jacob was in his mid-thirties. The mere idea sent chills down my spine.

He would kill her after using her. He always did that.

The Alpha Jacob of the Seraphic pack was well-hated and well-resented. The alpha was nonetheless famous for the way he treated his pack. Under his rule, Women are not allowed to turn, unless for the first time on their eighteenth birthday, in the close space of their homes. Because turning into a wolf meant power and women...well, they were supposed to be powerless. He would often say in his sermons that fate made a mistake and he was correcting it, and thus women would not and never turn, or they would be killed. He was also famous for killing of older wolves if they shed hair too much or coughed too loud than his liking, and with Red berries being a forbidden fruit, that any wolf dared to eat would be stoned to death. Because only the Alpha could eat it. After all, it was his favorite food. People wished in secret, that the Alpha had died from the overdosing of berries but unfortunately, that had never happened. The Alpha had never found his mate. Probably because the fates had decided a wolf like him did not deserve the sacred bond of love. So, Every once in a while, Alpha Jacob would walk around the city, Choose a she-wolf for himself, and she was obliged by law to spend the night with him. Rejecting the law meant death, and if the Alpha didn't like the woman enough, she would be killed. If the Alpha was bored of her, she would be killed. So, it was a kill-kill situation.

Years of yearning, of pain living under the Alpha, with no help from other packs nor any resilience from inside the pack, It had made us bitter. All the wolves were pathetic, soulless, and honorless, to let a man like Jacob rule over them for years. He was feared. He was to be feared because he was a beast, and that was the thing about beasts. They are ruthless and evil.

We didn't even talk about him in private, fearing he would hear. While we all wished his death in our hearts.

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