Scary

"I wonder what makes her so sad?" someone whispered, their voice soft but laced with curiosity. I wiped the tears and buried myself deeper in the blanket. It was a new unfamiliar—so far i have only met three people here. 

Clara, Oliver and the alpha of the silvermoon pack. Wait i also saw the doctor, i think his name was Eren or something. I wonder what the alphas name is? 

I was curled up on the bed pretending to be asleep all while listening to the noises because i couldn't sleep, or do anything like escape from here because of how frail i have become. 

I don't want to stay here and become the subject of people's curiosity. But where ever will I go? I don't have anywhere. I can't return to my pack. Another tear fell at the thought of it. I can't go to my home. There is no way I can bear seeing them together. 

I guess I will just wander in the forest and become a rouge. Would that life suit me? I don't think so. I have always preferred to be with people. 

"Someone must have broken her naive heart. Guys love easy prey like her. And let's be honest, she's an annoying idiot," came another reply, sharp and mocking. Oliver, I thought with a growl. 

I sat up abruptly, my fists clenching. I wanted to march over to him and sink my teeth into his smug face. A duel to the death, I decided. That's how I'll deal with him. 

"Oliver, that's mean! How can you say something like that? She seems so nice," the unfamiliar voice protested, their tone kind and genuinely concerned. 

I paused, my heart softening at those words. Finally, someone who gets it. I blinked back tears. So nice! See, there are still good people in this world—other than me, of course. 

"Her emotions are all over the place. She can't even seem to control them. A werewolf who can't control their emotions is useless. She is not a pup but a grown ass person." Oliver added with a scoff. 

I pouted at that, reluctantly acknowledging he wasn't entirely wrong. My emotions had been spilling over ever since I got here, and it was starting to feel like I had no control over them—especially when I was asleep. 

"Maybe that sadness is the reason she lost her memory," the kind voice said again, sounding thoughtful. "Maybe whatever happened was too heartbreaking for her to handle." 

Hmm, that's a solid excuse, I thought. If they asked more questions, I could simply say I'd forgotten what broke my heart. That would keep them from prying further into my past. 

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I closed my eyes and tried to meditate. Normally, turning into my wolf and sprinting into the wilderness was my go-to solution for dealing with emotional turmoil. But in my current state, transforming would be a one-way ticket to unbearable pain—or worse. Meditation would have to do. 

Taking a deep breath, I began chanting inwardly, grounding myself with each word: 

"He doesn't matter." Inhale. 

"Nothing matters other than me." Exhale. 

"I can do this." Inhale. 

"I am stronger than this." Exhale. 

"I am stronger than everything." (I added silently in parentheses, Just not right now.) Inhale. 

"I will survive." Exhale. 

After one last long exhale, I opened my eyes. I felt a little steadier, a little more in control. The raw sadness was still there, like an old scar that refused to fade, but it didn't feel so all-consuming anymore. 

There's only one goal I should focus on, I reminded myself, clenching my fists. Getting out of here.  

The bigger question is where will i go? I sighed i will decide that later when i am out of here. 

I jumped up, startled, when the door to my room swung open without warning. "Hey! Don't you know you're supposed to knock before entering?" I snapped, glaring at Oliver as he sauntered in. Of course, it was him—who else could be so rude? "You scared me!" I added, clutching my chest dramatically. 

"What, you thought it was the angel of death?" he asked, a mocking grin spreading across his face. 

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "You look more like a demon. Why would I ever mistake you for an angel?" 

He tilted his head, his grin widening as he caught onto something. "So, you think our alpha looks like an angel?" he said smugly, clearly enjoying himself. 

My jaw clenched as I realized he'd caught me. I flipped him off but my flustered reaction only seemed to amuse him more. 

Before he could say another word, someone shoved him aside, making him stumble. "Stop teasing her—she's injured," the newcomer scolded. 

It was her—the kind person who had defended me earlier. She was a beautiful girl about my age, her long hair neatly braided, and she wore a workout outfit that made her look both strong and graceful. 

"It was only because he had a scary vibe to him," I defended myself quickly, trying to save what little dignity I had left. It was totally a lie he looked so cool and handsome. There was nothing scary about him. 

Before anyone could respond, someone cleared their throat from the doorway. All of us turned to see him—the angel/the alpha—standing there, his sharp gaze locked directly on me. 

I froze, every muscle in my body tensing. Did he just hear that? My heart sank as I replayed my words in my head. Oh, no. I wanted nothing more than to dive under the blankets and pretend I didn't exist, but instead, I sat there, flushing red from head to toe. 

Calling my savior—and the alpha of enemy pack—scary was definitely not something a person trying to survive in enemy territory should do. Smooth, Celia. Real smooth. 

His eyes didn't leave mine, and I couldn't tell if he was amused, annoyed, or both. My mouth opened and closed, trying to come up with an excuse, but nothing came out. I was utterly and completely doomed.