Arranged to the Lycan, Fated to His Twin

1.

(Selena's Pov)

"Hey, Lena."

To most, my step-sister is an angelic woman especially as she stands there, her golden hair catching the morning sun rays.

But to me, she's a bad omen, a harbinger of doom because the only thing that'll make her come to my smelly little shack, as she calls it, is quite literally my pain and suffering.

"I wanted to be the first to tell you," Elsa says, the wood creaking under the added weight as she perches herself at the edge of my stiff bed. It was hers, years ago.

She stares at me, baring her teeth in a smile. She’s waiting, I realize, for me to ask. So I mumble, "tell me what?"

Now her smile turns predatory, like I'm a rabbit on a hunt. "My congratulations, of course. You're getting married!"

For a moment I think maybe she’s had a stroke. Or the moon goddess has answered one of my many whispered prayers and made her insane but other than that absurd statement, she looks as she usually does. "What?"

"Yes, silly. I had Mom and Dad keep it from you, as a surprise. And aren’t you surprised?”

I nod, but because I’m mostly confused and I want her to keep talking. ‘And to a very nice man too. Oh you’ll like him,” she says chuckling, the same noise she makes when I trip and fall.

What on the Goddess’ earth is she going on about!? Again, I nod. But it seems she’s done talking to me. She hums, gets up and flounces off.

Elsa is not above making up hurtful lies, in fact it’s one of her favorite pastimes. But still, a seed of unease settles in the pit of my stomach, and there's a voice at the back of my mind telling me to go investigate. I sigh, stand and make my way to the house.

“Look out!” I moved out of the way, just in time to avoid being tackled by a woman hurrying through the door I was just standing in front of, a big bundle of curtains in her hands.

I walk in after her. The house is in an absolute flurry and a ball of dread sinks low in my stomach. Cleaners are over, which is not something I have ever witnessed because I’m the one who cleans. People are making food and dusting everything, even the out of sight places that I’ve skipped a lot of times.

I go upstairs and, through their open door, I see my step-parents, Derek and Fiona sitting, watching a movie. “Oh good, Elsa has told you then.”

My step father doesn’t even turn to glance at me but mother stands and I begin to feel nauseous. This doesn't seem like a lie anymore. ‘Here,’ She says, tossing a dress she picked up from the floor at my face. It’s one of hers, that she’s always saying she’s going to throw out because the colors of it are fading.

“It’s for tomorrow when your husband gets here. You should look less like,” she pauses to give me a quick once over, “well, like you always do.”

There’s at least a subtle insult to me every time we speak, and sometimes it isn’t even subtle. This particular one doesn’t even register as the next words come out of her thin, painted lips. “It is the Lycan Prince, after all. Wouldn’t want him turning around and leaving you behind,” she mutters as she goe back to her chair beside Derek. “Now go down and help.”

I stand there, staring at the spot she was once standing in. My heart is racing in my chest and the room’s getting blurry due to the tears quickly pooling in my eyes.

I want to scream at her, shout that it’s not fair, that I already have a boyfriend, that they know I already have a boyfriend, that the Lycan prince would rip me apart and I won’t do it. But years and years of conditioning keep my lips shut.

“Get the fuck out!”

Those are the first words my step father speaks to me and I move immediately, out of the danger zone and shut the door behind me. I stand there for a moment, dress clutched to my aching chest.

Of all the things that these people have done, from Elsa ‘accidentally’ burning me with hot appliances, being left out in the cold for small things that couldn’t even possibly be my fault, to having to learn to swing an ax that weighs as much as I do while the sun blisters my skin, this must be the worst.

If it wasn’t me standing in front of the rabid wolf, I’d applaud them, they’ve outdone themselves. The Lycan Prince!

How did my step parents even manage to arrange that match? The Night Reaper pack, the most brutal pack in the continent. Goddess. A cold chill scrapes its icy fingers down my spine. I can’t believe he’ll be here tomorrow. Asher Vale and his brother are the literal stuff of nightmares and their names are whispered in fear during the day.

I’m finally able to unlock my limbs, walk to the top of the stairs and look down. The busy bees are still down there doing their jobs, preparing for a ruthless Lycan with no regard for werewolf life to come drag me away. And I’m supposed to help them prepare for my funeral.

It’s too much, it’s just too much. I can’t be in this house any longer.

I ball up the stupid dress and run down the stairs to my shack. I toss it to the floor somewhere, pull on some shoes and take off running.

I have to see Ethan. I have to be with my boyfriend.

*

I love him so much, my big strong wolf. Ethan is all I want, and have ever wanted. I shouldn’t even have worried. He calmed me down and immediately jumped into finding a solution.

He came up with a plan, my big smart, strong honey bear while I just sat there and looked at pictures of the Lycan twins on his laptop. I can't help but feel salty that they're not as hideous as their souls.

I’ll sneak out early in the morning, before the sun comes up and meet him in the woods, then we’ll run away together and start a new life somewhere. He’s the Alpha’s son but the second. They’ll eventually stop looking for us.

My eyes are dry as I go back to the house. The flurry is still going on but I don’t care. I don’t fucking care! They can do whatever they please because I definitely won’t be here to be punished by it.

I’m agreeable the rest of the day, nodding and smiling as I do every single thing they ask of me, smugly holding a laugh in.

Tomorrow’s going to be a surprising day.