I found Mom in the kitchen slumped over the table, an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand. She kept mumbling to herself and stared glassy-eyed at the space in front of her. It was apparent she had more than just whiskey this time.
A lump grew inside my throat, and I wondered how she would react to what I was about to tell her.
That was if she even would react.
I used to think my life was terrible. Uncaring parents, no friends, and I went day by day clinging to the hope that when I turned eighteen, I’d get to start a new, better life for myself, away from all this unfairness.
It was all that kept me going. I clung firmly to my optimism, writing down my daily gratitude and convincing myself that there were people out there living off worse than I did.
My perks were: I get to go to school. We had a roof over our heads, even if the atmosphere beneath it was dead as a graveyard. My parents never fought, even as broken as their relationship was. I had good grades. Good enough to get a scholarship to build a vibrant future for myself.
None of those ups meant a thing now. No university would take in someone like me.
There was no longer a way out, no bright future—only my doom.
I would soon become a monster. I would never escape hell.
“Hailey waily boo,” Mom croaked from the table. She had turned her head, facing me, her cheek pressed to the table. “Be a good girl and go to the liquor store for mommy.”
I didn’t move, waiting for her to notice my red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. It was all wishful thinking on my behalf.
“Come on now, Hailey, it’s getting late. I’ve got cash stashed in my purse. I think I left it on the couch in the living room. You can keep the change. Buy some makeup or whatever you’re into.” Mom straightened up. “Your dad went to get us some Wendy’s. I can’t eat if I haven't had a drink.”
My eyes fell pointedly on the bottle in her hand. I wanted to out her for it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so.
“Mommy?” My voice croaked. I hadn’t called her that in years, but I felt scared and craved nothing more but her comfort right now. Somewhere, in those drunken bones of hers, there had to be some maternal instinct left in her, right?
“Hurry up now, can’t keep me waiting.” She shrugged me off. “You should really think about getting some makeup honey, you’re looking like crap.”
I pushed down the stinging sensation expanding inside my chest. “Mom, I need to talk to you,” I tried again.
She picked up the empty bottle and pressed it to her lips, tilting back her head and tried to get out the last few drops. When she slammed the bottle down onto the table, she sighed. “Come on, the clock is ticking.”
I crossed my arms, staring at her in disbelief. “I said I need you.”
“I’m right here, so I’m not sure what you're on about.” Her lips thinned when I still didn’t move, and she tipped over the bottle. “Fine then.” Mom got up, cursed, and fell back into the chair. She tried a second time again, almost falling over the chair in the process. “I’ll just get it myself since my own daughter refuses to help me.”
“Can you, for just for five seconds, not make it about yourself and listen to me?” I asked, pointing to my face. “Have you considered that maybe I look like crap because I’ve had a bad day? That I actually need my mom?”
“Stop being a baby. You’re not two anymore,” she snipped airily. “Aren’t you what, almost twenty now?”
“Yeah? Great to know you don’t even know how old I am. Or that I still go to school.” I could feel fresh tears threatening to come. “I should have known by now you wouldn’t know what day it is today.”
Mom’s head snapped up, and she pointed with the bottle in her hand at me. “Honestly, Hailey, what are you going on about? I know what day it is. It’s Thursday.”
“The fifth? My birthday?” I quipped. “I don’t expect to get anything, but wow, it'd sure be nice to hear a happy birthday at the least. Or a hug. No, wait—you don’t do those either.”
Mom stiffened. “No, it’s not.”
“Oh, and by the way, I’m sixteen today. Not twenty, Mom,” I bit out.
“So I forgot. I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear? Happy?”
“Wow, Mom. Just wow.” I shook my head, my vision swimming.
“You started by being catty,” Mom snapped. “Don’t expect me to be all warm and fuzzy when you act like a brat.”
“Well, then I guess you’ll be happy to hear I’m moving soon,” I announced. “I’ll be out of your way. Permanently.”
“Don’t you dare threaten me with your ‘I’m going to run away’ crap, you hear me?”
“I’m not running away.” I muffled a sob with my hand before I continued. “I got marked.”
Mom’s head tilted to the side. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I pushed back my hair to reveal the ugly, dark veins running across my neck, and the crescent moon pulsing with light. Then, I pointed to my face. It surprised me that she hadn’t noticed how different it looked. “I’m turning into a werewolf.”
The bottle Mom held slid from her hand and shattered on the floor. She didn’t move, but it seemed like my words had shocked the alcohol right out of her. “W...What?” her voice shook as she spoke. “Oh no, no, no.”
Mom pressed her palms to her forehead.
“I know, Mom,” my lips quivered. “They’re going to take me away to that place.”
As in where all the werewolves stayed and got trained and did other horrid things.
Mom dropped her hands, and her wide eyes settled on me. “What is everyone going to say?”
“That I’m a freak?” I supplied.
“You can’t be seen here.” Mom rushed past me into the hallway. She ripped open our storage closet and pulled out duffel bags. “Goodness forbid, how can you be so inconsiderate to risk our lives by coming into this house? Here, take these. Start packing quickly. We need to get you out of here.”
My mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
Mom paused, glancing up at me. “Of course, I’m serious. We can’t be associated with a werewolf.” She spat out the last word like something foul. “And what if you turn and eat us?”
I sighed, grabbing two empty duffels. “As my mom, I thought you’d try and figure out how to get rid of the mark. Not throw me to the wolves.”
Literally.
Mom left me staring after her as she sped off in her car—alone on a paving spotted with old gum. I held a duffel in each hand, containing clothes, toiletries, and my most prized possessions. A photo album and a dolphin necklace my grandmother gave me before she died. I couldn’t believe Mom had done this to me. I reached down and withdrew the sunglasses from the side pocket of the duffel and perched it on my nose to hide my eyes. In a rushed attempt, I covered my face with a thick layer of foundation and powder in hopes of covering the worst of the veiny look. No doubt I looked like a ghost. I supposed it was better than people seeing me for what I really was. Fighting back the tears, I turned and began walking. The train station was dark and empty, except for an elderly man sitting by the ticket booth reading a newspaper below a flashlight. The coffee and souvenir shop was still open. Since I hadn’t had dinner yet, I headed for the coffee shop for some food. I ordered a hot dog an
“What’s your name?” I asked, stepping out from the motel’s lobby. “And how do I know you’re the real deal? Not some random guy who's trying to lead me into the woods and do something devious?” He reached for one of my duffel bags, taking the strap out of my hand and throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m Elijah. Elijah Ledger, but my friends and family call me Eli.” “Right. So, Elijah?” Elijah sighed, putting down the duffel beside his feet, and rolled up the sleeve of his navy shirt, revealing a geometric-like moon symbol with a print in the center that looked a lot like a wolf paw. “Happy?” A dark brow quirked. “Mine is a little different from everyone else’s marks, considering my dad is the alpha.” “Alpha, as in leader?” I enquired. “Yeah, pretty much.” “Not sure how this works, but he’s like a king to wolves?” Elija sputtered a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess you can say that.” “So.” I gave him a sideways look. “Why is the prince out looking for a peasant?” “I’m part of the
“Let go of me!” my voice bounced off the walls of the cavernous hallway. We were inside a cathedral-like building, where we appeared after wolf Elijah dragged me through the portal. When I turned to punch him, he was human again. Before my fist could land in his face, he grabbed hold of it. “You need to calm down.” “I told you I didn’t want to come here,” I shouted. “Take me back, now!” “So you could run in front of another truck?” “Anything is better than being here,” I cried out. “Please, just send me back. I won’t be a problem, just—” There was a long whistle and then laughter. “Another pup, Eli?” I turned to pin a mean glare at the boy who said it. Holy, living crap. He was a giant of a person. He towered double my size over me, peering down at us with an amused expression. “Let me guess, you got this one from the suburbs?” the boy asked. “A motel,” Elijah sighed. “It’s not what you think.” “Forgot to use your enchantment?” the boy smirked. “I did use it on her. She someh
“I still don’t understand how she could favor me.” I sat down on a comfy chair across from Mrs. Humphrey. “There’s literally nothing special about me. I suck at school. I never had friends...Luca marked me and now everyone thinks—” I paused, remembering where I was and in whose company I was in. I doubt they’d appreciate me referring to them as freaks. I peered at Elijah before my gaze settled back on Mrs. Humphrey. Elijah seemed decent. I have yet to decide how I felt about the high priestess. “People back home aren’t exactly fond of werewolves. Everyone used to tell me scary stories about your people.” Mrs. Humphrey sat forward in her seat. “Your people?” She arched her brow. “You mean, our people? You’re one of us, now, dear.” I breathed out a long sigh. “It all feels so surreal.” “I understand. I’ve been there myself.” She waved a hand toward Elijah. “Unlike him, who was born into this world, I was just like you. I grew up in a nice little neighborhood with very religious paren
“This is your room.” June turned her back to the cherry-red door decorated with postcards from across the world. A few faux sunflowers were stuck haphazardly in between. “You’ll be sharing it with another girl. Ariah Winter. I think you should get along quite well. She’s a bit shy, but a sweet girl, non-the-less.” I nodded, stepping toward the door. “I see you only brought this.” June pointed at my two duffel bags. “We have a store room filled with second-hand goodies for those who come over empty handed. You know, not everyone’s parent’s, especially those coming from human ones, are exactly keen on helping their young ones settle in and make their stay as comfortable as possible.” “Yeah, well…” What could I say? I was still having a hard time processing the fact that my mom did this to me. I wondered how Dad was going to react. I shook the thought from my head—not that he cared, anyway. “The point is.” June rested a hand on my arm. “You’re welcome to visit me and take a few things
“You’ve never been to the moon festival before?” Ariah’s eyes bulged. “I’m not from a werewolf family,” I explained, placing my neatly folded clothes into our shared closet. Ariah had moved her clothes to her side to make space for mine, but it was a tight fit. Where her side was overflooded, mine was mostly empty. I wasn’t sure how werewolves worked for money, but it was at the top of my list of things to do. “Like I said, humans don’t go out of their way to take part of anything out of the human norm.” “Hmm,” Ariah responded. “I’ve seen a lot of humans partake in our festivities.” “My parents are anti-werewolf.” “Oh, you’ve got one of those.” Ariah remained silent for what could be a minute. “I’m sorry, Hailey. That must really suck.” “Things happen, I guess.” “Hey, you can always join mine during the holidays,” she perked. “Then you don’t have to be stuck here in old people’s company.” I offered her a smile. “You barely know me.” Ariah tapped the tip of her nose with a fore
The dining hall carried a happy vibe interwoven with color and the aroma of baked goodies. Ariah grabbed me by the wrist, practically dragging me across the room. Slowly, heads turned and took notice of me. Few nudged their friends, while others pointed shamelessly. I think it might be because I had my neck fully exposed, with my hair tied in a high ponytail, and everyone could see my mark. It became painfully clear that I was an anomaly. Not a single other student had a mark like mine. Theirs were all a smaller version of the one Elijah had, minus the paw-like print. And, minus the hideous veins—which Elijah claimed went away eventually. “I’m introducing you to our friends. I just know you’re going to love them,” Ariah exclaimed, steering me to the left side of the room toward a table where two other students waited. There was confetti scattered across the table, with two large bowls; one filled with candy and the other with potato chips. In the center of the table was a plate sta
“How do you talk to the huntress?” I asked, trailing after Ariah. She was showing me around and getting me acquainted with everyone. People were mostly friendly, but no one passed an opportunity to ask about my mark. Hopefully, by next week people would have grown used to it and forgotten about it. It was getting tiresome to explain the same thing, over and over again. No one seemed to come to grips with the fact that I had no clue why mine was the way it was. If anything, I’d like some answers too. “You tap into the spiritual realm. It’s quite a process, so I can’t just explain it to you. In separate lessons, you will be taught how to, most likely, since we already covered it at the beginning of the year. They always do that with new pups. Catch them up on the essentials in separate lessons, most of the time, with the headmistress.” “I see.” I didn’t know how I felt about extra classes since, from what I’ve seen, my schedule was going to be packed as it is. “This is the girl’s c