Thorn

Helena jerked awake, a gasp tearing from her throat as she shot up in bed, drenched in sweat.

Her heart pounded violently against her chest, the remnants of the nightmare cling to her, Rubbing her temples, she tried to shake off the image burned into her mind—Nico's wide, desperate eyes staring back at her, pleading, as the water swallowed him whole.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and ran a trembling hand over her face. She'd had the dream so many times, you'd think she'd be used to it by now. But no. Each time it left her raw, like a fresh wound that never healed.

"Damn it," she muttered, her voice shaking.

Throwing off the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, her bare feet making soft thuds against the cold wooden floor as she walked to the window.

She leaned against the window frame, her forehead resting on the cool glass as she stared out into the darkness.

The dream, her nightmare, had always been there a reminder of what she had done, of the brother she had lost. Nico had been everything to her. And she had killed him.

"She killed my son!" Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, sharp and venomous, as if it had been yesterday. Helena clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. The memory of her mother's hatred, her father's silent grief.

She could still hear her mother's screams, see the way she had turned on her father, eyes blazing with fury.

"She killed him! She killed our Nico!"

Helena had been eight years old, huddled on the floor, tears streaming down her face as she cried in her father's arms, desperate for comfort.

But her father had been lost in his own grief, and her mother's words had destroyed every hope she had for love.

If only she hadn't gone into the water. If only she had listened to Nico's warnings. The guilt was pressing down on her chest until she felt like she couldn't breathe. She rubbed her temples again.

"Why can't I forget?" she whispered to the empty room.

Tonight, though, the dream had felt different. More real, more vivid, like she was reliving that day all over again.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. Nothing more.

As she stared out at the darkness, her mind drifted back to the past, to the days when she had been happy, when Nico had been alive.

Their parents had never had time for them, too busy with pack duties. Venus, her older sister, had always been cold, keeping to herself, leaving Helena and Nico to each other.

But that day, the day Nico drowned, had shattered everything. Her mother's rejection had been the final blow.

"If only you had listened! If only you had listened! My baby would still be alive!"

Her mother's words were like daggers, stabbing deep, over and over, without mercy.

Helena's chest tightened, and she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

Even after thirteen years, the pain was as fresh as it had been that first day. She let out a shaky breath and blinked rapidly, willing the tears away.

She was alone. Her mother hated her, blamed her for the pack's loss, for taking away their future Alpha.

Venus's hatred had only grown, festering like an open wound, making it clear that Helena was responsible for all of their pain.

Helena clenched her jaw, her nails digging into her palms. She had no one. No one to turn to.

Her family, the people who were supposed to love her, had abandoned her when she needed them most.

But she couldn't escape it. It was part of her now, entwined with her very being. She was the girl who killed her brother.

The thorn in her mother's side. Her name was Helena, meaning "shining light," but her mother had twisted it into Acantha, meaning "thorn."

And so she was Acantha to everyone. Acantha, the killer, the murderer.

She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. She couldn't afford to break down now. Not with the Luna Festival looming.

Today was the festival, a time of celebration for the pack. But for Helena, it was just another day to be paraded around like a trophy, to be shown off as the daughter who survived while her brother perished.

Her mother would drag her out, doll her up, and force her to smile for the pack, to pretend that everything was fine. But it wasn't. It never would be.

Helena planned to stay in her room, locked away from the world, hidden from the pitying gazes and whispers that followed her wherever she went. She had no place among them, no desire to face the scorn and contempt of her pack.

There was a knock at the door, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Milady? Are you awake?" It was Anel, the only person who didn't look at her like she was diseased or cursed.

"Come in," Helena called softly, wiping at her eyes.

Anel entered, a bright smile on her face, her hair done up in elegant braids. "Pretty, right?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Helena couldn't help but smile back, though it was small and tinged with sadness. She nodded, and Anel beamed, nearly bouncing with excitement.

"I came early so I could do your hair and makeup," Anel said, giggling as she tried to coax Helena to the dressing stool.

But Helena remained where she was. "I'm not going, Anel."

Anel froze, her eyes wide as saucers. "You what?" she whispered, as if she hadn't heard right.

"I'm not going to the festival," Helena repeated, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Anel stared at her, shock etched on her face. "Are you crazy? Your mother will kill you!" She threw her hands up in frustration, pacing the room.

"You have to go! They say Alpha Ghod of the Ember Pack is coming!"

Helena blinked at her in confusion. "Who?"

Anel stopped in her tracks, her mouth dropping open in disbelief. "Don't tell me you don't know Alpha Ghod! King of the Strong and Mighty!" she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Helena shook her head, completely lost.

Anel's eyes grew even wider, as if they might pop out of her head. But before she could say anything more, there was another knock at the door. Helena's heart sank at the familiar voice.

"Acantha, open up! It's time to get ready for the festival," her mother's stern voice called from the other side.

Helena hesitated, glancing at Anel, who stood frozen in fear. But something inside her snapped. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep living in fear, couldn't keep letting her mother control her.

"I'm not going, Mother," she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

The door swung open, and her mother stormed in, eyes narrowed. "What did you say?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Helena clenched her fists, her heart racing. "I said I'm not going."

Her mother's hand landed across Helena's cheek, the sting spreading through her skin like fire. Helena winced but didn't back down.

She had lost count of how many times her mother had hit her, but this time, something inside her had changed.

"How dare you, Acantha!" her mother snarled, her face twisted with rage.

"You're going to regret being my daughter!"

Helena's cheeks flared with anger. "I already regret it," she spat back, her voice shaking with fury.

"I regret ever being born to a mother like you!"

Her mother's eyes blazed with hatred. "You ungrateful, insolent child!" she screamed, her face turning red with fury.

"What do I have to be grateful for?" Helena shot back, her voice rising. "You've done nothing but make my life a living hell!"

Her mother's nostrils flared as she stepped closer, her hand raised again, but Helena didn't flinch.

"You useless.... Child."

.........................

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