Chapter 1- Cursed or blessing?

Author's Pov

Sunlight streamed through the grand windows, bathing the expansive bedroom in golden hues. Outside, the world awoke with a symphony of birdsong, the leaves rustling gently in the soft morning breeze. It was the kind of morning that whispered promises of new beginnings and painted the sky with the pastel colors of hope.

Edward Arion Jonathan, however, felt none of it. Standing near the large window, he looked every bit the part of the successful tycoon and commanding Alpha of the Mooncrest pack, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, his posture exuding authority. But his eyes, those deep pools reflecting centuries of life, were clouded with the kind of torment that success could not dispel.

The voices from the past clawed at his mind, their cruel words echoing in the silence of the room. "You are a monster" they hissed, a litany of hate that had followed him through the ages. He flinched as each word struck like a physical blow, the scorn etched into his memory. "Who gonna love a monster like you?" the voices taunted, relentless in their assault. "Stay away from us you monster," they warned.

"Monster, mons-" the accusation seemed to hang in the air, unfinished yet ever so damning. Edward closed his eyes, willing the voices away, but they clung to him like a second skin, an unshakeable reminder of his eternal struggle for acceptance. Despite the warmth of the sun's embrace, a chill settled over him, leaving him isolated in his own fortress of solitude, where the beauty of the day could not reach the depths of his ancient soul.

The voice of shattering glass rent the air, punctuating the stillness that had pervaded the expanse of Edward's sumptuous room. With a clenched jaw and fists balled at his sides, Edward Arion Jonathan stood amidst the fragments of what had been a fine porcelain mug. Its shattered pieces lay scattered around his polished leather shoes, mirroring the fractured calm of the morning. His towering frame, usually so composed and powerful, now seemed like a tempest contained within human flesh, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that threatened to ignite the very air around him.

"Whoa! You broke a mug again." The voice cut through Edward's inner turmoil, dragging him back from the precipice of his dark reverie. It was Evan, his steadfast friend, who stood at the threshold of the room, his expression somewhere between concern and exasperation. A wry smile played on Evan's lips as he added, "This is the 22nd mug you've broken this month."

Edward remained silent, his gaze shifting from the broken porcelain to meet Evan's eyes. There was no need for words; the countenance of his friend spoke volumes, recognizing the storm that raged behind Edward's brooding facade. And yet, no matter how many mugs were sacrificed in the wake of his inner demons, Evan's loyalty never wavered. He saw past the tycoon, past the Alpha, to the man wrestling with a curse more profound than any outsider could comprehend-a curse of perception, of being seen not for who he was, but for the fearsome creature others believed him to be.

"If you came here to say this, then you can leave, Evan," he muttered, his voice a low rumble that resonated with a power that few could stand against. The frustration was evident in his tone, a manifestation not just of the morning's mishap but of years weighed down by the same relentless narrative.

Evan leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed as he observed his friend. There was no judgment in his stance, only the unwavering support of someone who had stood by Edward through thick and thin. "Seriously, Eddie? Just loosen up, bro," Evan coaxed, the familiar twinkle of camaraderie in his eyes softening the edges of his words. "I know it is difficult for you, but still-just don't give up."

"I tried," he murmured, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls of the opulent room, each word heavy with centuries of weariness. "Not just years, but decades, Evan. Centuries too." His eyes met Evan's, a silent plea for understanding within their depths. "And yet, for everyone, I am still the same monster, right?"

Evan moved closer, undaunted by the raw power that seemed to emanate from Edward's towering frame. "You are not a monster, Eddie," he said firmly, his voice unwavering. It was the voice of reason against the howling winds of self-doubt that often consumed his friend. "Those people, they were the monsters. They couldn't see your good side."

The air around them felt heavy, charged with the weight of an ancient curse and the hope of redemption that had thus far eluded the tormented Alpha. But Evan was a beacon, hisfaith unshakable as he placed a steady hand upon Edward's broad shoulder.

"Never lose your hope," Evan continued, his gaze locked with the troubled Alpha's. "I am sure the moon goddess has planned the best for you." His words were a balm, a soothing salve to the scars that marred Edward's soul.

For a moment, there was silence, Evan spoke again "Anyway, I have arranged a meeting with Ms. Veronica today. If we could crack the deal then, we are going to host biggest fashion show this year". "Hosting the biggest fashion show isn't just a win for Eclipse Fashions; it's a beacon of hope for our kind. It's proof that we can thrive in both worlds, that our dual nature is an asset," Evan concluded.

"Let's make sure Ms. Veronica sees that too," Edward said. "Ofcourse, she will. No one can deny our CEO's charms, can they?" Evan replied with a teasing smile which only earned a glare from the elder.

"Anyway I am leaving to office. Need to prepare for meeting." with that Evan left the room and Edward moved towards his wardrobe.

________________________________________

On the other side of Sunhelm city

IAN'S POV

Inside the apartment, the air pulsated with loud music, a thumping bass reverberating off the walls. The lyrics from a popular song filled the space, a seamless blend of melody and memory.

"~This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home," sang the voice, its upbeat tempo clashing with my desire for just five more minutes of quiet before the day began in earnest.

"Argh!" I groaned, pressing my hands against my ears. "Izza, please turn it down or I swear I'll chuck your speaker out the window!"

My sister's laughter trickled over the music as she danced around our cluttered living room, spatula in hand like a microphone. Her energy was a stark contrast to my morning lethargy. "How could you even suggest that, brother?" she teased. "Music is the peacekeeper of the mind. You should let these songs lighten your spirit too."

"Maybe," I conceded, feeling the weight of her CEO title between us, "but not when you're screaming along. Now hand me the spatula and get yourself ready. Just because you're the boss doesn't mean you get to be late."

"Okay, my dear brother," Izza replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though she complied, leaving the kitchen in a whirlwind of perfumeand purpose.

With the spatula finally in hand, I turned to the task of breakfast, the sizzle of eggs in the pan replacing the music's dominance. That's when the doorbell rang, slicing through the residual hum of the fading chorus.

"Who could that be at this hour?" I muttered, setting the spatula aside and making my way to the door.

"Surprise!!" came the shout as I swung the door open.

"Jesus, Jake!" My hand flew to my chest, trying to calm the sudden jump of my heart. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, bro," Jake chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Me or Izza?" I raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"Stop teasing," he scolded playfully. "Both of you, obviously. Speaking of which, where is she?"

"Upstairs getting ready," I replied, the sound of Izza moving about overhead confirming her presence.

Jake paused near the hallway that led to Izza's bedroom, turning back towards me with a look of mock disappointment. "You mean she's not going to grace us with her bedhead?"

"Trust me, you're better off waiting for the polished CEO version." I chuckled, knowing my sister's meticulous approach to appearance was both her armor and statement.

"Did you have your breaky?" I enquired as I leaned against the kitchen counter

"Yup, had it before coming here," Jake replied , his voice carrying from where he had wandered over to examine the various framed photos on the walls, a glimpse into the lives and memories shared within these walls.

"Always one step ahead, huh?" I mused aloud. " Ofcourse, thinking about your sister's pancakes were just enough for me to have my breakfast earlier." i couldn't help but to laugh at his remark. Sure Izza's pancake's are surely remarkable!

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the lingering scent of Izza's floral perfume as I strode from the kitchen to my bedroom,

"Alright, give me ten minutes," I called over his shoulder, the words slightly muffled by the distance as I entered my room. My room was a stark contrast to the rest of the apartment, minimalist and uncluttered, with each item serving a purpose or evoking a memory. While out whole apartment was according to Izza's taste.

Shirt buttoned and sleeves rolled to the perfect quarter-length, I caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 'Not bad' I thought

Exiting the bedroom, I found Jake patiently waiting, his eyes briefly meeting Ian's before flicking toward the hallway, where Izza was waiting. I could sense Izza was not happy about waiting.

"Let's roll out," I said, clapping a hand on Jake's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, signaling it was time to leave. Jake simply nodded in response, while Izza looked both of us with annoying look. "Oh, finally! I thought I would have for whole day for you" showing the irritation in her voice. I didn't comment on it because I know Angry Izza surely equals to starving lion.

Together, they stepped through the threshold of the apartment, the morning light now stretching longer across the floor, heralding the start of a new chapter in the day's unwritten narrative.

To be continued....