Love Unbreakable
Comeback Of The Adored Heiress
Moonlit Desires: The CEO's Daring Proposal
The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Comeback
Bound By Love: Marrying My Disabled Husband
Who Dares Claim The Heart Of My Wonderful Queen?
Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife
Best Friend Divorced Me When I Carried His Baby
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
After Divorce: Loved By The Secret Billionaire CEO
Chapter 1
I awoke in a familiar room, feeling slightly groggy and disoriented. I struggled to keep my heavy eyelids open as I peeled myself from the bed. I fought the urge to lie back down as I got onto my feet and stretched my arms. It's Saturday, nearly midday, and I have a job to attend to, which is my only source of income to support myself and my tuition at college. I have no one to lean on and no family to ask for help. So no one will give me money if I lie here all day. I had to work hard for me to be able to live. To be quite honest, I don't see any reason Why do I have to keep living, why do I have to keep breathing, and why the f*ck do I need to keep working my ass off when I could've just chosen to die. In that way, I wouldn't need to suffer every day for being a lonely creature. I have no family, I have no friends. I have nothing.
No one will miss or notice when I die.
I shook my head and laughed to myself at the depressing thoughts that had crossed my mind.
Silly.
I headed straight to the bathroom and took off my nightdress, tossing it off to the basket filled with my used clothes, before I opened the shower and let the water fall through my body, washing the drowsiness in my system. I yelled when the cold water hit my heated skin, making my eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. After a while, I got used to its sudden cold temperature and I began enjoying my bath.
After putting a towel around my body, I walked towards the sink and brushed my teeth. I usually brush my teeth first before going under the shower, but sometimes I feel like doing it as part of the last part of my morning routine. It's basically no longer a morning, but since I had just woken up, I called it one.
I wore a plain sweater, tight jeans, and a pair of old white shoes. After I dried my hair with the hair blower, I tied it up into a loose bun before I picked up my bag and headed out of the room in my apartment. I didn't bother going into my kitchen to find something to eat before I went to work. Mostly because there's literally no food in my cupboards or even leftovers in my fridge. Not that someone cares. I lived alone.
“Hi, Katia!” a woman's voice greeted me as I walked down the stairs of the three-story building where my apartment was located. It didn't startle me that she suddenly showed herself out of nowhere. I smelled and sensed her before I could even see her. However, no one knew of that.
“Hi, Analyn,” I said, my voice barely audible. I kept my gaze straight, not bothering to look at her.
“My mom prepared breakfast for you. It's an omelet. Here, take this. She would surely feel sad if you reject this.” Before I could say anything, she pushed the lunchbox on my chest as she blocked my way.
I sighed and took it from her, giving her a small smile. “Say my thanks to you, Anastasia,” I said, referring to her mother. “I'll go ahead.”
She grinned and jumped happily as I walked past her. I couldn't help but shake my head. They are my generous neighbors, giving me food from time to time even though I didn't ask them to. I'm grateful but didn't know how to express it to please them.
People say I'm dull, but I couldn't actually care less. I knew I'm aloof and I knew pretty well I'm weird but I gave no damn shit of it. They can say whatever they want to say, but I'll never change myself for them. If I can't fit into this society where everything matters to people, then f*ck everyone.
I sighed for the ninth time, leaning my head against the window of the bus that would take me to my workplace. It didn't affect me that much that it's practically freezing outside. Aside from the thin sweater I was wearing, the perk of being a normal person slash a werewolf is that I have my own heat.
I'm basically a rogue. I do not belong in any packs and have never planned on joining one in the future. They are nothing but some sort of coward werewolves who were sheltered their whole lives but still think they are superior to everyone else—that they are stronger and more powerful than rogues or any other race. The truth is, they are all cowards, hiding inside their pack, scared as kittens to wander around the world.
My stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding me how I had starved myself for two days now. It's not because I am too lazy to prepare a meal for myself or to buy something to eat. I just don't have an appetite to eat and fill my stomach.
Sighing for the ninth time, I looked down at the lunchbox on my lap and decided not to waste Anastasia's efforts upon sparing a moment to prepare this for me. Besides, my stomach was already begging to be filled, and I knew if I stayed like this—starving—I would collapse later.
Throughout the ride, I opened the lunch box and ate it in silence. Much to my delight, no one sat beside the vacant seat next to me. I finished the whole meal just in time for the bus stop to a station near my workplace. I picked my bag and got out, closing my eyes briefly as the sun hit my lilac eyes. The weather can be unpredictable at times. One minute it was freezing cold and now the sun was up. Just like life and death, it is unpredictable and yet inevitable.
I resumed walking towards the alley, leading me to an old shop, almost rotten to be exact. When I opened the door, I was greeted with the smell of old books. The smell invaded my nostrils, sending euphoria through my system. Just like that, a small smile appeared on my lips.
“Good afternoon, too, young lady,” a sarcastic voice of an old man snapped at me out. Tilting my head upwards, I saw him atop the stairs as he was finding some books on the tall shelf.
“What are you looking for?” I asked as I dropped my bag on the counter.
“An order,” he curtly replied. I covered my nose with my hand as he brushed off some dirt from the old book he picked.
“What order?” I inquired again, interested. Every order piqued my interest every time. It's not everyday you see an old—almost rotten shop—get a customer. Added to this is the fact that these customers are willing to pay huge prices for our old books. Our books' rate is no less than 1,500 dollars. Crazy, isn't it?
But I know why these books are pretty expensive. It's not just some normal book you can buy in bookstores worldwide. These are rare books you can only find in this shop. Some were ancient.