Chaos. The sound of jaws snapping. Snarling. Screaming.
Arla’s parents had warned her to stay home and lock the doors while they left to help defend their pack, but as the clock ticked, the worry within her increased. She paced the living room and craned her neck to try to see anything out of the windows, but all she could see in every direction was forest.
The Apostle Ridge Pack, run by Alpha Anton, was a small pack by werewolf standards. Their remote territory sat nestled in deep, dense forest, giving the wolves the freedom to exercise and hunt undetected by humans. But right now, that isolation had fear prickling her skin, goosebumps rising, and her body jittery until she could no longer stay put.
She knew her parents would be in the thick of the action. Her dad, Horace, was the pack’s Beta and was built to fight and defend, and her mother, Esther, would be alongside him. Arla knew that if her mother had to fight, she wouldn’t leave his side.
She decided to risk it and make a dash for the packhouse. As she rounded the corner, she saw them. Witches. She had never seen one in person before - werewolves despised them and the feeling was mutual. As she shakily forced her legs to move up the steps of the packhouse, she wondered why on earth witches were there on pack land.
Curiosity began to overtake the fear, and she hid behind a large pillar to watch the events unfolding in the town square. She spotted her mother and father standing in their rightful place next to Natasha’s parents, the Alpha and Luna.
A male witch stepped forward, pointing his finger at Alpha Anton, who instinctively pulled his mate, Luna Simone, closer to his side.
“You!” the witch bellowed, his hand outstretched. “Your pack and my coven, we had a treaty. You ignored that treaty and executed one of my witches. My wife!”
“Your wife shouldn’t have been in my territory,” replied Anton with a snarl.
“It was an accident! You killed her without giving her a chance to explain.”
“Your wife shouldn’t have been in my territory,” Anton repeated, slower and in a more menacing tone.
It’s startling how just a few rash actions can change lives so profoundly.
The witch smiled, but it wasn’t the kind type. It was twisted, unhinged, full of pain. In the blink of an eye, he raised his hands and pointed straight at Luna Simone, shooting out a shard of ice.
Arla watched in horror as her father leapt bravely into its path, blocking the Luna. As he fell to the floor, clutching his chest, one more ice shard sailed through the air.
The witches finally had their vengeance.
Arla ran. She no longer cared about the danger, she needed to get to her dad. More chaos. More screaming. Arla could no longer be sure that it wasn’t her own screams she was hearing as she grew more frantic.
As her mother’s mournful screams echoed throughout the surrounding forest, Arla felt her skin prickle with awareness. She looked up to meet the intense green eyes of a retreating witch.
Their eyes remained locked and slowly, the witch nodded her head. Suddenly she felt her panic recede, and a strength surged through her, as though something hidden within her had awoken.
Their connection broke when she sensed movement in her peripheral vision. Alpha Anton. She ran to her mother’s side, pressed her tiny hand into her father’s giant palm and gave him one final kiss goodbye.
One rash decision from a cocky Alpha and one vengeful payback from a witch was all it took to unravel a happy existence. The loss of a mate is one of the hardest things for a werewolf to endure and in that moment, Arla knew that not only had she lost her father, she had also lost a part of her mother.
Arla woke with a gurgled scream, gasping as her eyes darted manically. Her bedroom. Another dream. There were so many horrors that she witnessed that day, yet she couldn’t understand why it was the green-eyed witch who had kept visiting her in her dreams - nightmares - each night for the past two months. The witch’s light green eyes had looked at her as though she knew something and saw something no one else could. She also couldn’t forget the way her skin had tingled, like goosebumps without the bumps. She didn’t think the witch wanted to harm her. If she’d wanted to, she could have struck her down easily, but Arla never felt as though she were in danger. She had an overwhelming urge to seek her out, but knew a twelve-year-old girl would not get far on her own, and no sane witch would venture anywhere near
“Alpha, what a surprise, what can I do for you?” asked Esther, trying to keep her tone light and the wariness from it. Horace and Anton had been good friends, but Esther had never liked his hot temper and the way he let it control him. “I understand Natasha has been giving Arla a hard time at school. I wanted to come and apologise for her behaviour,” he replied, glancing briefly at Esther, then fixing his gaze on Arla, who kept her eyes downward. “Oh, well, thank you,” she replied, feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t known that Arla was having issues. “Would you like to come in?” Alpha Anton followed Esther into the house and sat at the head of the dining table as she made coffee. Arla sat warily at the opposite end and be
Esther’s blood turned to ice. Two days. Two days was all it had taken for him to find them. Beta Wesley crossed the road, heading towards her. She dropped the shopping bag, grabbed Arla’s hand and ran. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him in pursuit and made a blind turn down an alleyway. Despair shot through Esther as she took in her surroundings and realised the alley was a dead end. The red brick wall of a building was on her left, high wooden fences lined the right-hand side and the back, and a small silver hatchback car was parked halfway down in the centre of the road. “Arla, run and find somewhere to hide, sweetie,” she said, watching as Arla scurried underneath the silver car. “Esther, don’t fight,” said Beta Wesley softly. “You know yo
Alpha Lorenzo’s voice pulled Arla out of slumber, and she rubbed her eyes with her fists as she roused groggily. Her peace shattered immediately as the memories of the evening swamped her, shrinking in her seat as the images of the alleyway returned to bombard her. She turned away from the Alpha to look out the window, not wanting him to think of her as weak as the tears threatened to flow. They turned in to a long driveway paved with smooth grey stones. She wished it wasn’t so dark, so she could get a better look at her new home. Home, she thought. The word feeling strange in her mind, as she tried to imagine anywhere feeling like home without her parents, the only family she’d ever had. As they drove further, she could see lights up ahead, illumi
“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Granny Elsie asked worriedly, rushing into the bathroom. “I-I don’t think so,” she stammered. Granny wrapped her in a towel and led her back to the bedroom. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do it,” Arla apologised as she got dressed. “Will the Alpha kick me out?” she asked tentatively. “Of course not, dear. It wasn’t your fault. The screen can be replaced, you cannot. He’ll just care that you’re not hurt. Come now and have some dinner,” Granny reassured her. Alpha Lorenzo had kept to himself in his office since they returned home. He’d tried to focus on work, but had been completely preoccupied with thoughts of the blonde girl upstairs. I
They walked through the front doors, and Arla noticed a girl waiting near the driveway. “Oh good, Chloe, you’re already here,” said Millie, walking forward to unlock the red sedan parked in the circular driveway in front of the house. “Arla, this is my daughter, Chloe, she’s going to spend the day with us.” There was no mistaking that Chloe and Millie shared genes. Chloe was only slightly taller than Arla, which was no magnificent feat, as Arla was petite for her age, and she was also rounder in the face and body. Her hair was the same mousy brown as Millie’s, and hung thin and perfectly straight, with her fringe grazing her eyebrows. Her eyes were also identical to her mother’s, almond-shaped, hazel and appeared genuinely kind. “Welcome to the pack, Arla,” Chloe said with a smile as she looked over Arla’s
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived back at the packhouse, Arla and Chloe chatting animatedly the entire way. As they pulled up in the driveway and began taking bags out of the boot, Beta Drew and Eli stepped out of the front door on their way out. “Wow, someone’s been busy today,” Eli commented, stepping forward to help carry the bags. “I’m so tired,” complained Arla. “Who knew how exhausting shopping could be?” “Are you sure you’re going to make it up the stairs?” laughed Beta Drew, also picking up some shopping bags. “I think I’ll manage...just,” she replied overdramatically, eliciting louder laughter from Drew. “Drew and I have got these, Millie. We’ll take them up to Arla’s room. Head home and enjoy the r
Another fitful night of sleep ensued, with images of both her parents’ deaths haunting her dreams, along with the unsettling feeling of being watched when she woke. She kept her new mermaid lamp on all night, and she could have sworn that every time she looked at the mirror upon waking, an image would dart away quickly, as though it didn’t want to be seen. I’m not going crazy, she thought. I’ve actually lost my mind. For the second night in a row, Granny Elsie was there for her, wiping the sweat from her brow and comforting her during the night as she cried with sadness and shook with fear. Arla woke in the morning, still absolutely exhausted. Millie was pulling open the cur