Chapter three

Ava’s POV

“No, no, no!” I yelled before jumping up. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as they fell down to the collar of my shirt. My heart pounded in my chest and my hands shook. The room spun a little and I tried to steady myself by placing both palms on the little worn out table beside my bed.

I saw him again, his smell of booze and cigarettes haunted my dreams, his rough hands that felt like sandpaper against my skin and those dark eyes. A wave of heat and anger rushed through my system as I grabbed the small glass bottle from the table. In one quick movement, I threw it at the wall opposite me with all of my strength.

It shattered into millions of pieces and the scent of the pills mixed with herbs assaulted my nose, making me retch. I took several deep breaths while wiping away the beads of sweat from my face and neck with the back of my hand before climbing out of my bed. I put on some clean clothes and then headed downstairs.

Aunt Portia wasn't speaking to me but her actions were loud enough, her maltreatment echoed through the house, and these days she'll hit me more than once for things I didn’t do, or yell about how I’m not doing anything right. I was too afraid to tell her I didn’t feel good anymore.

I wanted to run away but where could I possibly go? I had no one and I heard the other packs were far from us.

My only option was my mate.

He was my only way out of this Hades, wherever he was and yet I doubted if I would ever get one.

No one liked me, the boys in the pack didn't even seem attracted to me, they only gave me scornful stares as if I was some sort of communicable disease, the type that killed really fast.

Yet I couldn't help but wonder who my mate would be, what he looked like. Was he going to be mundane or like those Greek like gods I used to read in books. Will he look at me like my eyes held stars? Was he going to be my sunshine in the rain? Will his smile be as bright as the sun during summer? Will it light up the room when he walks in it? Will he wake me up with soft kisses? Will I make him feel complete?

Will he like arts or music or books? Will he play the piano?

“Ava!” Aunt Portia's loud voice called out followed by her laughter that sounded like a cackling of vultures circling above their prey. She grabbed hold of my shoulders as she laughed loudly again. “What happened to your face?” Her eyes widened at the sight of me contorted into something close to rage. “Oh my, what happened?” It sounded like a normal question, a question that came from care but I knew better. Moreover, she reeked of alcohol and could barely stand by herself.

I wanted to yell “you did this to me” but I couldn’t risk being punished.

“You called Au… Ma’am” I corrected myself immediately, to avoid her wrath again. I hated how the word ma’am sounded against my tongue, it felt like poison but she had forced me to call her that and I remember the first few weeks I had forgotten to and got loads of slap for it.

“What are you waiting for? help me to my room” She snarled in my face and her arm rested quickly across my shoulders. The sudden touch made my stomach churn and I had to stop myself from throwing up. The smell of alcohol was overpowering and her weight was enough to bring me down- so much for a slender woman but I staggered through with her, ignoring the sharp pain that ran through my back with every step.

We walked up two flights of stairs until we reached their bedroom and I placed her on her bed. She fell flat on her back and let out a long sigh. There was still alcohol on her breath. “I didn’t even do that badly” she mumbled in disbelief before closing her eyes.

I almost scoffed. What did she mean by that?

I was about to leave when her voice followed me.

“I want another bottle of wine and a glass of water. Now” My eyes flickered between her closed eyes and the door, debating whether or not I should get them. She opened her eyes again and I saw anger flash across them briefly before they settled down to tiredness. “Ava, now!” The look she gave me was one filled with hatred and disgust. I hated to admit it but I was afraid of her so I reluctantly returned upstairs and went straight to the kitchen. I grabbed the wine glass that sat on the table and filled it with water. When I brought the drink to her bedroom door, she took it from me without hesitation and drank greedily, emptying the glass within minutes. I thought about telling her she needed to slow down but she already looked like she was falling asleep and I had no desire to wake her.

When I was about to return to my room, Avery bumped into me and I almost lost my balance due to the impact, wincing slightly.

“Oh my goodness, what happened to your face? you look so ugly” she giggled, grabbing onto my face and turning my head around while her fingers brushed against my skin making me wince in pain again.

Her long blonde hair was now divided into two French braids, highlighting her perfect facial features that were too similar to those of Aunt Portia and Dad.

Who was I kidding? I never looked like them

I pulled away from her as soon as possible and said nothing. If I did, I'd be a goner but it didn't stop my wolf from snarling inside of me and screaming that I should take out her head right there and then, rip her throat apart, bite her head off so she'd stop talking. Instead I clenched my jaw hard and stared ahead.

“You don't like it?" she asked and grinned wickedly. She stood up taller and looked me directly in the eye. "Well Ava, get your fucking face fixed” she strolling off with confident steps until I heard the door slam behind her. “ Some day, I am going to kill her," I promised myself mentally but I couldn't find the will to move from my position.

When I returned to my room, I stood in front of the once-glorious vanity mirror that was now broken taking in my appearance for the first time since forever. My hair was messy and unbrushed, the edges sticking up in weird angles, I looked like a complete mess. The cuts in my lip were still fresh but my nose was crooked and my chin was covered in small scars, some deep and some barely visible. In addition to those , my cheekbones looked hollow. My eyes seemed lifeless, void of any emotion. And worst of all, my face was puffy, reddened from crying or lack of sleep. All in all, a very pitiful-looking person who looked like shit.

I didn't look like me, I looked like an alien.

The alien they had made me be, the alien they had always wanted me to be.