Chosen for the Lycan

Ava’s POV

No one knew where I came from, but they knew enough to consider me a bad omen.

It was said that I was found on a lonely path and that I was about five and couldn't remember a thing, so my new parents kept me…

“What are you doing Ava? you are supposed to make breakfast” I looked away from the strawberry-blonde woman with a perfect face whose eyes were boring into my soul.

“Yes Ma’am” I could still feel her stare shooting lasers at my back as I fidgetted with the kitchen cabinets until I found a plate and fork. “Sorry, sorry”. I quickly moved around the counter and went to make some scrambled eggs.

It was only when she left the kitchen that I could breathe properly again. My head was spinning and my stomach churning. A strange feeling of unease gripped my chest. It wasn't just the fact that she stared at me like an animal; she also seemed to know what I thought. And that unnerved me even more than her staring.

I still remember when I got home from school and met her- Aunt Portia in the living room instead. Not mom, not dad.

My sister- adopted sister, she didn't fail to tell everyone that, Avery was sobbing- no wailing loudly on the couch.

Avery never cried and so I knew it must have been something really bad because she was trying really hard to keep quiet while crying like that.

“Where is mom and dad?” I forced myself to ask her because there was no way I would be able to sit down calmly next to Avery who would never make herself look ridiculous.

My question only seemed to upset her more. She started bawling harder as if she wanted to scream.

I don't think I've ever seen someone cry so violently. Her whole body shook and she was gasping between sobs. The tears fell on the couch.

“They are gone” My Aunt Portia announced but I wasn't allowed to call her aunt.

“You are just an unnecessary responsibility my brother added to his checklist” she would always say whenever she visited.

Her words had knocked out the air in my lungs.

The house felt empty without the constant sound of voices and the smell of pancakes cooking.

Mom used to make pancakes every morning for us after we woke up, then I used to help her in the kitchen and Dad would sit at the table with Avery if she wasn't out with friends.

He wasn't here now. He was gone. They were gone.

My parent's death had put me on a pedestal of uncertainties. It also put Aunt Portia in charge.

It has been three years, three years since they died in that shipwreck, three years of me questioning my self-worth, three years of pain.

Avery and Aunt Portia always got along but me? I was the inconvenience who was suddenly the new maid, who couldn't do anything right and most times got her ass whopped for it.

I had lost count of the number of times Aunt Portia and Avery made me cry, I lost count of the number of times I wished the moon goddess didn't let it happen to my parents, and maybe I'd only have to deal with Avery.

When I was done with the scrambled eggs and pancakes, I served them on the dining table before sitting opposite them. I avoided looking at the spot where my parents were supposed to sit every day for breakfast. I pretended nothing happened, that they weren't gone.

“You can't sit with us anymore” Aunt Portia spoke, her well-manicured nails pressed against each other as she placed the cutlery neatly in their respective places. I nodded in response before going and picking up my own utensils.

My wolf growled inside of me, urging me to take her head but its voice was drowned by the tears that had suddenly formed in my eyes, blocking my vision of the world.

“I am fine, everything will be fine “ I whispered to myself over and over again. “Please, stop crying…” I begged myself quietly when my tears wouldn't stop falling.

It was a pathetic sight to see me and my wolf fight so desperately for control over our emotions. But the truth is, neither cared much.

I hurried into my room when I was done from the kitchen and for months I had avoided the mirror like a plaque, I didn't want to see what my reflection held, not when I was so broken and hurt.

“You are too young to be acting like this” the wolf growled in its usual deep tone, she sounded annoyed by my behaviour. I could hear it gritting its teeth inside of me as I closed the door of my closet carefully, closing my ears so that I didn't need to listen to any more comments.“You are going to get me killed. If we don't manage to survive this disaster, we will both be dead and it won't be my fault” my wolf snapped and her words resonated through me like a bell.

I didn't care about survival; survival didn't exist for me anymore.

I was just floating somewhere between existence and nonexistence. There was no place in which my thoughts didn't move freely and all I ever saw was darkness. I was alone, without hope, without direction… without anyone.

I was alone.

There was no other way to describe it.

I was an empty shell.

All I ever saw was silence and darkness. Even breathing was an effort. All I could hear was the sound of my heart beating in my chest. I tried to count how many beats it took and failed miserably when counting meant that I might die soon.

I didn't know when I slept off but the splash of cold water woke me up. My first instinct was to jump in fright, my second instinct was to cover myself with my arms and hide my face from whoever dared to wake me.

“Get up,” That same dark velvety voice said behind me. I could recognize it anywhere.

My eyes blinked severally as they tried to adjust to the brightness. It took a few seconds for my blurry vision to clear enough so that I could finally see her standing in front of me. She looked calm despite her stern facial expression, her jaw slightly tense.

And I knew I was in trouble.