Chapter one

I lay down the wood, staring at the night sky.

I love that place. Lonely and cold as my life.

"Belle!" A familiar scold echoes.

"Belle!" It gets louder as It reaches me, and I squeeze my eyes, wishing that was just a nightmare.

But that nightmare is my life. And the reminder comes quickly when a kick in my stomach makes me cough and curl in pain.

 My reality is even worse than any nightmare I could ever have.

Another kick follows, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

The second blow is stronger and almost makes me faint.

My father drags me up by abruptly pulling me by my hands, and I get up, almost losing my balance. 

I curl my foot onto the cold floor and tremble.

I finally meet his eyes cornered by furrowed, shaggy, dark eyebrows. Eyes full of anger, disappointment, disgust, and what else. 

"Mere girl! Stupid, pathetic girl you are! How many times did we tell you not to go out at night? Do you want to get killed by a wolf?"

I massage my stomach where he hit me and I manage to gather my breath.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, and with forthcoming tears, I take a deep breath.

What did I do to deserve this?

I doubt he would care if that happened; I manage to lift myself with an aching stomach. God knows how many more kicks would follow if I refuse to do so.

He would never understand how much I love looking at the sky full of stars. I doubt he would understand how those moments make me feel at peace. 

"God damn, next time I will let you out and lock the door so you will sleep outside. Maybe then you will understand the lesson." He says with a spiteful, angry voice.

And his creased eyes squeeze as I smell all the alcohol he poured down through his breath.

Disgusting.

I don't even remember how he looks like when sober. 

Yet, I remember quite well that he wasn't any better than how he is now. Maybe a little bit less harsh, but still unbearable as he is now.

So no, I don't blame it on the alcohol.

"You never speak, don't you!!? I will always hate the orphanage for having given me an idiot and useless girl. We are glad that the years after we adopted you, our son was born. Or we would be damned for eternity."

The words that fill my mind in that moment could make me resuscitate the Devil for all the curses I sent my father.

Yet, I learned how not to show my emotions through my face. And more importantly, how to swallow the harsh truths as if it is water.

His long cane rises, and I mentally prepare for another hit. I squeeze my eyes when the cold stick hits my face.

"I fucking hate you. Speak!"

It was so cold. It felt like I was slapped by a piece of ice, and I can feel my skin burning horribly.

Another kick follows right when I am on my way to get up on my feet. It hits me with such strength that I fall to the ground and scrape my elbow.

I have to bite my tongue to repress the urge to scream for pain.

Until...

An odd noise of leaves rustling makes my heart skip a beat, and I swallow down.

My dad was indeed right; that place is dangerous. 

My heart reaches my throat. And for a second, I forget the pain I was in and lift myself, ready to escape.

I tremble in fear as I can hear the noise approaching faster and I meet my father's eyes.

That makes me realize we were in trouble.

My father grows pale, his eyes widen for fear. 

I can clearly see how scared he is.

He opens his mouth, ready to mimic something, but then decides not to do so and closes it again.

With all the courage in my body, I force myself to slowly turn.

And when I do so, I regret having gone to that place.

I even have the impression that all the stars turned off at that moment.

It was a wolf.

The biggest wolf I have ever seen in my entire life.

His eyes were red gliming and his body was too imposing and muscular to be just a common wolf.

That must be a Alpha.

The Alpha's eyes glowed in the darkness of the night.

For the first time in my life, I felt fear.

I never thought I was capable of it. Growing up in a family that despise me, with a father who struck me daily just because he couldn't stand the sight of me, fear was something I learned to let go of far too early. I had stopped fearing him. And so, I believed I had stopped fearing anything at all.

Until tonight.

Now, I am trembling. Frozen. Terror roots me to the ground, making it impossible to move, to scream. My throat is too dry, my body too paralyzed. I can already picture myself dying—torn apart, devoured alive by an Alpha.

I swallow hard and glance at my father. The man I once feared, the one who always seemed so large and scary, now looks small—insignificant—compared to the massive beast standing before us. My dad has lost his skills to shape many years ago when he got sick. And he no longer has strenght. He could never make it alive against an Alpha.

And me? I wasn't even sure I would ever successfull shape.

The wolf takes another step forward, its glowing eyes locked onto mine, unblinking. Threatening.

Then, as if deciding I am not the immediate target, his gaze shifts. He turns to my father.

A low growl rumbles from deep within the Alpha's chest, his muscles tensing as he lowers his body, preparing to lunge.

I should feel nothing.

I should watch and feel nothing.

I have spent my entire life hating this man. I believed that if something ever happened to him, I wouldn't care. That I would welcome it.

But now, as the Alpha prepares to strike, something tightens in my stomach.

No matter how much I despise him, I don't want him to die.

The Alpha steps back, adjusting his stance. My father's eyes widen in raw terror.

Then the wolf charges.

"Run! Run!" my father screams, his voice hoarse with panic.

And I do.

But I don't run alone. Before my mind can catch up, my body acts—I grab my father's arm and pull him with me.

It's hopeless.

There is no way my crippled father can outrun a wolf.

Still, we run.

We push forward, feet pounding against the earth, lungs burning. The Alpha gains on us, his massive form closing the distance in mere strides. He's too fast.

I feel like I might cry. The fear is suffocating.

And the guilt.

If it weren't for me, my father wouldn't be here.

"We have to move faster," I whisper, my voice barely audible, breaking under the weight of my fear.

My father tries to speed up, but his weak leg betrays him. He stumbles, his foot catching on a rock and he falls hard. My heart sank in my chest and skips a beat.

I drop to my knees beside him, hands gripping his arms, struggling to pull him back up. But he's too heavy, and I'm too weak.

We turn in unison.

The Alpha is right there.

I barely have time to breathe before my father turns to me, his expression twisted in anger and disbelief.

"Why are you helping me?"

I don't answer. I don't know the answer myself.

I just know that I can't leave him.

"Go!" he shouts. "Run!! Stupid girl! I would have never done this for you! Why are you helping me? We're going to die here!"

He shoves me away, trying to push himself up in the same motion.

I lose my balance.

Pain explodes through my skull as I hit the ground, my head slamming into something sharp and unyielding.

The world spins. Darkness creeps at the edges of my vision.

Through the haze, I see the Alpha. His massive form towers over us.

A deep, guttural growl rattles through the air.

The last thing I manage to do is whisper, "I'm sorry…"

Sorry for what?

For saving him?

For failing him?

For not running when I had the chance?

I don't know.

But as the Alpha descends, the pain dulls. The fear fades.

Darkness pulls me under.

And the last thing I see before I lose consciousness is the Alpha shifting—his form blurring, changing.

Then, in the dim, wavering edges of my sight, I see him.

A man.

Lifting my father with effortless strength. Growing powerful before he apeaks.

His words fades with the wind and I don't hear what he said. But I read in my father's eyes his words were afar but good.