03⁓ How Worse Can My Life Get?

Ayla's Point Of View 

Water.

All I felt was water.

It hit me like stone, hard, cold, brutal, ripping the breath from my lungs before I could even scream.

The sea swallowed me whole.

I tumbled beneath its waves like a ragdoll, my limbs useless, the wolfsbane-laced chains burning through my skin like molten fire. The rope around my wrists tightened as I thrashed, slicing deeper into the wounds already there.

I tried to kick. I tried to surface. But the weight dragged me further… deeper… down.

The salt stung the cuts across my face, and blood billowed around me in ribbons. My hair tangled in the current, wrapping around my neck like noose-tight vines. The sea didn’t want to let me go.

They didn’t want to let me live.

My lungs screamed for air.

I opened my mouth instinctively, and the ocean rushed in. Cold and merciless. I choked, coughed, flailed. Nothing helped.

My eyes burned, but I forced them open. Above me, the moon flickered like a dying candle behind ripples. So far away. So unreachable. It seemed to weep for me, the only witness to my execution.

I don’t know how long I fought.

Seconds?

Minutes?

Eternity?

My muscles burned. My chest convulsed. The wolfsbane… oh Goddess, the wolfsbane was eating me alive. I could feel it in my veins now, seeping into every inch of me, weakening me, pulling me into death’s arms.

And still… I struggled. I didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not as a traitor. Not as a killer. Not as a monster in their eyes. I wanted to scream, I’m not your enemy! But the sea doesn’t listen.

It only takes.

Please… please let this be a nightmare. But it wasn’t. This was real. This was how it ended. Alone. Abandoned. Hated.

I was born into a cursed life. My only crime? Existing. Breathing. Daring to dream of being loved… of being chosen. Maybe I should’ve known better. Maybe I should’ve seen the signs.

I was never meant to belong. Never meant to be seen. Never meant to be held and kept and protected. Only used. Feared. Then discarded like rotted meat.

Julian’s eyes haunted me beneath the waves, that emptiness. He’d looked through me like I was air. Darius… my brother… my blood. He didn’t hesitate. Not even a flicker of guilt.

Anton’s smirk. The guards' laughter. The way the crowd whispered "traitor" like it was truth written in the stars.

I was fighting for a life no one believed I deserved. Maybe I never had one to begin with. Tears spilled from my eyes, but in the sea, they were invisible. Just one more drop in the drowning.

My heart was slowing.

My body was giving in.

And somewhere in the stillness, I stopped resisting. My legs drifted, limp. My wrists floated behind me, skin blistered, swollen, broken. Blood painted the water red around me like an offering.

I closed my eyes.

If this was death… let it be soft. Let the cold numb everything. Let the darkness swallow the pain. I had no one left to cry for me. No one to mourn me. No one who would even say my name once I was gone.

I surrendered to the deep.

To silence. To the death they gave me. Because I had no more fight.

And no more hope.

**********

"Ayla…"

The voice was soft. Echoing.

"Ayla… Ayla, wake up."

My lashes fluttered. I stirred, groaning weakly, the scent of saltwater still clinging to my lungs. Was I…? "Am I… dead?"

"No," the voice said, stronger now. Calmer. Ancient. "You are not."

I opened my eyes.

And the sea was gone.

No more pressure crushing my ribs. No cold hands dragging me down. No taste of blood and salt on my tongue.

I was lying on soft grass, bathed in pale moonlight. The air was warm here… fragrant, almost surreal. Stars shimmered above, like a thousand watchful eyes. The forest around me glowed silver and blue, pulsing with magic, with energy I didn’t understand.

I blinked rapidly.

Where…? What was this place?

I sat up slowly, wincing and looked down at my body… only it wasn’t mine. Not anymore. Where my arms should’ve been were sleek, white-furred limbs.

Paws.

Claws.

A soft growl vibrated in my throat. I could feel the power coiled beneath my skin, the instincts rising, the strength that was not mine… yet somehow was.

“I…” I whispered, or at least thought I did. “What’s happening?”

"You shifted," the voice answered. I turned toward the sound, and there she stood.

A massive wolf, fur the color of fresh snow, with eyes like liquid silver. She shimmered with otherworldly grace, her paws barely making a sound as she moved closer. The moonlight crowned her like a goddess.

Her aura wrapped around me like a warm cloak.

“Who… are you?” I asked, trembling. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe. For now,” she said. “And I… I’m Elara. I am the part of you that was caged… buried… forgotten.”

“Elara,” I repeated, the name soft on my tongue, powerful in my soul.

“You should’ve heard me long ago,” she murmured, sadness lacing her voice. “But Julian gave you something. A poison in a goblet dressed as wine. It weakened me. Strangled the bond between us. And then… his rejection.”

I flinched. The memory of that moment flashed… Julian’s eyes, cold… distant… the sound of the crowd calling me traitor.

“His rejection at your weakest shattered you. Almost tore me from you completely. That’s why I was late, Ayla. I couldn’t surface. I couldn’t protect you.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“I was dying,” I whispered. “I thought… it was over.”

“I wouldn’t let it end that way,” Elara growled lowly, protective fire in her voice. “Even in my weakened state, I swam. I clawed. I dragged us out of that pit, Ayla. I bled with you. I burned with you.”

My chest trembled.

“I thought I was alone.”

“You’re never alone. Not anymore.”

I closed my eyes, her warmth wrapping around me like the arms of someone who finally saw me, who knew me. I let the tears fall. Not of pain. But release.

“What now?” I asked. “Where do we go? They think I’m dead… maybe I should stay that way.”

“No. You will rise, Ayla. But first… you must rest. Heal. Regain your strength. The world thinks you drowned… let them believe it.”

“Sleep now,” Elara whispered. “Let me protect us for a while.”

I was too tired to resist, too comforted to fight. “I’ll take care of you.”

And with those words, I let go.

**********

I don’t know how long I slept.

Time felt meaningless in this strange, magical place, where stars hummed lullabies and the wind sang like a mother to a broken child. I drifted in and out of consciousness, cradled in the moss and moonlight, Elara’s warmth tucked around me like a shield.

But then, a crunch, low. Sharp. My ears twitched. “Elara?” Her voice responded instantly, urgent. “Stay still. Someone’s close.”

Another footstep. Twigs snapped. The scent of fur. Of iron. Of strangers.

I felt her coil inside me like a whip drawn tight. Then, in one swift surge, she shifted. My bones melted, remolded, and fur replaced flesh as we became Elara. Our eyes glowed silver. Our limbs shook, not from fear, but weakness.

Still, she moved.

We hid behind a tree, breath low, heart pounding like a drumbeat of warning. Elara peered from the shadows, her paws silent against the earth.

Three wolves emerged from the darkness… dark, enormous, unfamiliar. I didn’t know their scent. Didn’t recognize the sigils etched into their armor. They were not of our lands.

And they reeked of blood. Elara growled. Low. Warning. “Back off,” her voice snarled, deep and guttural.

But they didn’t listen.

They lunged.

She tried. Moon, she tried. Claws out, fangs bared. But the blow of their strength met our fragile frame like thunder cracking bone. One knocked us into a tree. Another slammed us into the ground. Her growl cracked in her throat.

We were still healing. Too slow. Too weak. One more hit and Elara whimpered. “No,” I begged from within, “Don’t leave me.”

But she retracted anyway, too wounded, too drained to protect us. Her form melted into mine and I shifted back, bare skin trembling against the cold earth.

I curled into myself, gasping, human and helpless.

They stood above me now… men with cruel eyes and wicked grins. Dust clung to their boots, their swords shimmered with a dull gleam, and their aura was void of honor.

“She’s a fine one,” one of them muttered, crouching. “Didn’t expect to find a rare beauty in this cursed place.”

“Look at that skin,” another sneered, brushing his fingers over my arm. I flinched away, bile rising in my throat. “Bet the nobles would pay a hefty price for her.”

“She’ll fetch double at the moon market,” the third added, cracking his knuckles. “Triple if she’s untouched.”

“Please…” I croaked, voice shaking. “Don’t…”

But they only laughed. And that’s when I knew that they were slavers.

My hands fumbled for something, anything, but I had no strength. No Elara. No claws. No fire. Just a battered girl beneath the stars. I closed my eyes as their shadows fell over me.

‘How worse can my life get?’