Present.
Patricia.
Nineteen years old.
Life isn't fair. Dior has grown several inches during upper secondary school and has taken William's spot as the most sought-after guy. He is only seventeen but already the alpha of the Winterbite pack.
The guy rules with an iron fist, and anyone with a lick of sense knows there isn't a heart beating inside his chest. Unfortunately, everyone is too starry-eyed and blinded by his beauty and sheer power as an alpha to see the monster lurking on the inside.
The girls in my pack fawn over him like he is their idol, giggling whenever he glances their way. It baffles me how his pimples have vanished and been replaced by a face so beautiful one could mistake it for having been sculpted by an angel.
Yes, he is that gorgeous. Not only that, but his body nowadays is sheer physical perfection. Such a shame a boy so pretty possesses what I deem an ugly heart.
Dior thinks he is better than everyone else, always scowling with those unresponsive eyes. He also loves to enter my head whenever he pleases, which has made me consider going rogue—I haven't found my mate yet, but I can't handle the last year of school with the devil himself interrupting my train of thoughts.
With slow movements, I try to balance my food tray with my eyes set on the table where I was sitting moments before. The best part about living in Sweden is the free lunch the school serves, and I smile at the smell of tacos—I'm on my second serving.
"Hey, is that Patty Goldheart?"
Another voice laughs. "The nerd?"
"Bet you can't hit her!"
"Dude, watch me!"
My feet turn frozen at the paper plane landing by my feet, and a stream of discomfort rushes through me at the sound of Dior's distinctive voice chuckling from some table further down the cafeteria.
It feels like time moves in slow motion until I find his table, and I swallow thickly at the popular teenagers surrounding Dior.
I guess he found his people.
Ignoring the paper plane, I keep on walking and take a seat by my empty table. I'm such a pathetic loser.
Tiffany, my best friend, moved away recently, and these days I sit alone. The tables have turned—I'm a lone wolf, while Dior has mass recruited friends. People constantly circle him. Both humans and werewolves want his attention.
"Look at her sitting all alone!" Marcus flings his ugly smile my way, wagging his unibrow. He is on the same swim team as Dior, broad-shouldered and, frankly, the dumbest werewolf on earth.
A few girls giggle at the comment, and one girl, the one Marcus is currently dating, sends a mocking glance my way. Her name is Gloria, and I watch her whip her dreadlocks over a bony shoulder upon eye contact, and I roll my eyes before returning to my food.
"She is such a pig," Gloria speaks in this disgusted tone as if the mere idea of someone healthily eating upsets her. "Isn't that her second helping?"
Dior turns around, eyeing me with his infamous mocking expression. His trademark smirk takes control over his lips, and I inwardly recoil. Every time I meet his gaze, it's like taking a direct hit to the gut.
"Oh, big Patty is a plus-size, alright."
Wait.
Did Dior say what I think he did?
But I thought we had a silent agreement not to say mean things to each other when other people could hear? We only ever spoke through the mind-link. And damn, I might not see Dior as my friend, yet his words cut like knives for some reason.
Snickers fill the room, and horror packs my stomach. I stop eating, glancing down at my belly and wondering if maybe I should stay away from food. Tears prickle behind my eyelids, and when Riley, the slim devil in my class, walks past my table while laughing, I stand up.
I take my tray and dump my tacos into the trash bin. The word "plus-size" buzzes all over the cafeteria, and after I've ditched my food, a belt of laughter follows. Misery eats me alive, and I turn to stare at Dior with glazed eyes.
'I heard your birthday is coming up,' I'm broadcasting my voice through the mind-link, gaining the attention of every werewolf in our pack. Eyes turn my way, but I don't care. 'How about I buy you a mirror, so you can see the ugly person who you've become?'
Immediately, Riley's voice rings through the mind-link. 'What are you talking about—Dior is hot!'
I smile bitterly, happy to have gained Dior's attention. He looks high and mighty with his stupid, blowy hair and birthmark right below those baby blues. Sure, the ugly boy has bloomed like a flower, but his personality has only turned more rotten.
'Oh, Dior is cover boy pretty with a body sculpted to perfection, alright, but I wasn't talking about his appearance,' I smile at Dior, laughing inwardly at the shock visible on his face. 'I meant his personality—his ugly heart can be seen from a mile away.'
Dior laughs. 'Since you're so big, I bet you could be seen from a mile away too, possibly even from outer space.'
Everyone laughs, and my heart breaks into a thousand sharp pieces, but I won't flee the scene. Not yet.
'Congratulations—you just proved my point. I hope you're proud of yourself for bullying the girl already lying on the ground—real manly of you, Dior.'
With those words, I leave the loud cafeteria. No one cared about my last speech, except for Dior, who I caught expressing inner conflict. I hope I stirred something within him, nudged his heart made of ice.
I can't believe I used to consider enemy-boy my friend before the beginning of this semester. Sure, we never spoke kindly to each other, but Dior's presence used to comfort me. We were both freaks, but now, everything has changed.
Dior is one of the pretty ones now, which means I'm all alone.
With devastating certainty, I run down the corridor to lock myself inside a toilet. I'm close to tears, and I don't want a single soul to discover me if I suffer a mental breakdown. No one uses these booths, and I pull up my legs, blinking to keep myself from crying.
My gaze stays glued to the graffiti on the wall and various hearts with letters inside of them. I empty my mind, relaxing until I pick up on giggling girls outside my toilet booth. High-heels clickety-clack until they are both standing by the mirrors with the faucets running.
"Did you see Patty's face when she left the cafeteria?" The girl speaking is Larissa, a girl from my pack. I'm glad her nose isn't as good as mine, or she would realize I'm in the same room. "It was priceless seeing her glossy lips quiver."
"It truly was," The other girl, Juula, smacks her lips. She must put on lip gloss herself. "I felt sorry for her, though."
Larissa snorts. "Why?"
"Imagine being nineteen years old, and you still haven't found your mate yet. Patty must be so lonely."
There is a sigh. "It's sad, but honey—weak wolves like Patty, probably aren't even worthy of having a mate."
Both girls crack up while I sit there with my heart crumbling to pieces—a sudden urge to shape-shift washes over me. I want to feel the wind blow into my face, but of course, I can't shape-shift at school.
Instead, I rush out of the toilet booth, shocking both girls. Two dolled-up faces give me their full attentiveness, and I study the girl's open fish mouths for three seconds before I'm out through the doors.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I didn't want anyone to see my tears!
My pace quickens. I don't know where I'm going, but I want to flee from here, find a place to recover mentally. My pack is hunting later, and I have to lick my wounds before then.
Suddenly, I stumble forward and collide with someone tall and harder than a rock. My eyes close on instinct, and I topple like a domino brick, groaning until a large palm is pressed to my back to keep me from falling.
"Thank you so much for..." I stop talking when I see Dior's gorgeous face hovering above me. He is exceptionally huge these days, taller than a tree. My heart hammers faster than ever, and I mentally curse my reaction to the handsome guy. Miraculously, I scowl despite some of my brain cells seeming to fancy him. "Oh, it's you. Nevermind."
He arches an eyebrow. "Is that what you say to someone who just saved you from a humiliating face plant?"
I glare at him. "I won't thank you..."
His lips curl into a feral smile. "Then should I drop you again?"
I back up from him, only to slip and get steadied by him again. Amusement shines all over his features. Dior is the most attractive guy I've seen in the flesh and the only guy with whom I've been in such proximity—the thought makes me nervous, but my bitterness towards the guy ruins the moment.
"Thank you," I mutter.
"You're welcome." Without withdrawing his hand, Dior's entertained lips move again. "You truly are a walking disaster."
I glare at my life's sworn enemy and straighten my back, desperate to get away from his hand currently holding me up. Dior is terrible news, and I jerk to the side, aware of his blue eyes following my every move. From his chiseled face to his broad shoulders and sculpted muscles, the man is genuinely billboard material.
Truly, Dior is the guy Disney channel would have recruited back in the day to gain viewers—his eyes are to die for, but unfortunately, the guy is an absolute asshole.
"You're always so nice to me when you speak," I sarcastically remark, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "A proper gentleman."
Dior gazes at me, and I can't help myself—I stare back into his enchanting eyes, regretting it when amusement seizes his features. Fuck me—he probably picked up on my appreciation!
A smile, one that is almost shy, spreads over his lips, but I shake it off as one of my hallucinations. "Are you... Are you checking me out?"
"Of course not!" I exclaim.
Dior stifles a laugh. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" I almost yell. "I'm sorry, but not everyone finds you attractive!"
But I do, and I loathe myself for it—the traitorous brain of mine.
"Ouch," Dior chuckles. "Please go easy on me, or you're going to break my poor heart, Patty."
"Break your heart?" My eyes narrow, remembering everything mean Dior has done to me. He is practically the reason I'm bullied because everyone follows him. Dior calls me a plus-size, and suddenly, everyone shares his opinion. "You're the one who broke mine!"
Dior appears genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"
I roll my eyes. "Don't play dumb with me—you're so intent on making my life hell that you don't even have to try anymore! That comment about me being plus-size? Thank you for that! Now everyone is looking at me like I'm this abomination, this fat fucking cow!"
"They do?"
"Yes!" Frustration is running loose within my mind. "Come on! You can't possibly be so blind that you don't understand that you won—everyone is bullying me, so will you please leave me alone!"
Dior suddenly bends his head back in laughter. "You think people are bullying you?" He looks me up and down with mildly entertained eyes, and it gives me the chills. "That's a ridiculous claim! Sure, you're the omega, but we care about you, Patty. And the guys think you're -..."
"Oh yeah? You care about me, huh?" I interrupt him, beyond furious. "Is that why you've turned my life into a living hell?!"
Dior's expression changes into something less friendly. "You're overreacting—your life isn't hell."
"It is hell!" I shout. "But you're such a cold-hearted bastard that you probably don't even realize that! You're a fucking joke of an alpha—you don't care about anyone other than yourself!"
"That is not how you speak to your alpha," Dior growls. "Consider yourself warned, Patricia. Another alpha would teach you a lesson for your impatience and disloyalty to your leader!"
"I don't care!" I throw up my hands. "Sue me, but make no mistake—you aren't a true alpha in my eyes!"
Something flashes in Dior's eyes, but I'm done. I walk for the doors, thankful that the idiot isn't following me.
Patricia School is over, and I'm about to join my pack for a late hunt. I'm still hurt by the events that unfolded in the cafeteria, including my run-in with Dior, yet I'm trying to stay positive and focus on nature. I fold my clothes behind some bushes. The weather is brisk, and autumn has brought in blazing colors such as red and yellow, making it seem like the ground is burning. Smiling at the cold, I sharpen my ears at the sound of voices. Gloria and Riley are both giggling at me and gossiping like usual. Riley, the pretty girl with doe-eyes, is currently dating Dior. And for some stupid reason, she hates me. I think she has mistranslated my hatred for her boyfriend as me interested in him, which is laughable. I'm certain Dior will be mated to Riley—they deserve each other. "Hey, Patty," Riley walks up to me, her arms folded underneath her firm, tiny breasts. The fact that I have bigger ones gives me sick satisfaction. I'm
PatriciaI drag my feet forward, intent on dying in my bed as soon as I get home.Since I'm not rich, I still live with my parents. I'm moving out next year, thank god for that, because my parents aren't supportive of me at all. They are Dior's brainwashed pawns, clueless about the deep hatred I hold for their beloved alpha.As expected, my mother, Elena, is already waiting by the door as I walk across our garden covered with red and brown oak leaves. She is wearing a white blouse and black pants. An apron is slung over her shoulder, and her glare is intense.I know without asking that she has discovered the latest rumor that I left the pack to become a rogue. Her expression says it all and does nothing to hide her inner rage."Patricia!" Disappointment is radiant on my mother's face, and her nostrils flare with disapproval. With her dark hair and heart-shaped face, we look like clones. "How dare you leave the pack! Do you have any idea what it mea
Patricia My pace slows when I get to a clearing, and I stop to stand in the newly fallen snow. I peer up at the sky, only to lower my gaze and find a cream-colored wolf staring at me with a curious expression. I fold my ears and glance to the side, uncertain if I should run away. The other wolf approaches me with confidence, and my eyes widen when a second wolf joins their side. They are both cream—luna and alpha, and the one walking up to me smells like a female. On the brink of a second, the wolf shape-shifts into a blonde woman, who smiles at me. Her hair reaches down to her shoulders, curled to perfection, while her face is the epitome of angelic. "Hello, there!" The woman waves at me. I don't think she is much older than me, possibly around twenty-five. "What are you doing on our turf, little rogue?" Swallowing, I decide to turn back into a human. The chilled air bites my milky skin, and I stand there shaking while the snow circles from t
Dior From the first moment I laid my eyes upon Patricia, I understood she was different. I spotted her on my first day in kindergarten. My skin under my clothes was blue and yellow from the abuse I had to endure the night before. I was in tremendous pain, and she smiled at me like a princess from one of those Disney tales. And while a typical kid would have gladly made friends with the cute girl, I stood frozen. It was as if my feet had grown their gnarled roots and stuck them in the ground. I had never faced kindness, and my initial instinct was to run, but then I clenched my fists and fought to steal the spade and bucket from her. I lost, not that I'm bitter about it. The event marked us as enemies, and although I will never admit it out loud, Patricia has saved my life plenty of times. My parents weren't kind when I grew up—they are still assholes, but I'm strong enough to fight back these days. When I was younger, I didn't possess enough strength.
PatriciaWilliam and June are living in pure luxury. I can't believe they own this place—it's so incredible! Their mansion is enormous, and so is their kitchen, where professional chefs work to please their alpha and luna.I was astonished the entire walk to their dining area. There are actual diamonds in their chandeliers, and there is an open flame ahead of me. The table is polished and so clean a better-behaved person would fear touching it, afraid of tarnishing it, but I don't care.With a big smile, I gulp down food like it's the first time I've ever eaten. Some guy named Antonio came out with a silver platter of delicious shrimps, and I'm now throwing them into my mouth with my heart singing happy songs.Changing into a werewolf burns ton of calories. I suspect the shape-shifting is part of why I'm not a big girl—I love cake and bake them too."This is so good," I take another bite, eye-rolling and smiling at my platter like a chi
Patricia Last night was a nightmare. William and June were screaming and fucking each other so hard their bedframe hit against my wall. They let me sleep in their guestroom, but I kind of wish I had slept in the forest. Seriously. I'm officially scarred for life, humiliated because I thought I had this instant connection to William when he is clearly, deeply in love with June. What was I thinking getting butterflies when he looked over at me with those pretty-boy eyes? June probably had Willian act friendly so she could pump information from my system. Groaning to myself, I speed up my pace. I snuck out of the pair's mansion, and now I'm racing to school through the woods. Fiery colors are blazing around me while my hands are under my arms, seeking warmth. My dirty hair thrashes to the left and right over my back, reminding me of how badly I need to shower. It's a long way to school—I must already be late, and I know for sure that I lo
PatriciaI'm shuddering by our fire, hating the fact that I'm naked. Dior has taken off his wet clothes too. He seems to feel better and is holding out his hands to warm them in front of the flames.Dior's blue eyes glimpse into mine before looking away with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Thank you for saving my life."A sparkle lights in my belly, and I lean forward, too aware of how close I'm sitting to the hulking man—calling Dior a boy or a teenager doesn't fit with his superhero body."A life is always worth saving. We might dislike each other, but strangely enough, I think you would have done the same for me."Dior huffs a laugh. A treacherous part of me wants to join him. I need to remind myself he is the reason I'm being bullied. He called me a plus-size too, and I bet he is thinking that now when my stomach has folded and rolled over itself."True. We aren't friends, but I wouldn't have let you die either," Dimples appear on
PatriciaThe diner is old school with red booths and posters of classic cars on the walls. There is a neon sign outside, glowing from its height, and everyone working here is confident. There is a certain swag and shake to the hips as a waitress comes up to our table. I like it."Are you ready to order?" The lady is standing there, smiling while holding up a sketchbook rather than an Ipad."Yes," Dior flashes a killer smile, and I roll my eyes at the blush growing on the woman's cheeks. "I would like to have the bacon and eggs and a large cola. Oh, and with a side of fries.""Lovely," The woman, who must be more than twenty years older than Dior, has been reduced to a giggling mess. "And what does your friend like to order?"I glance up from my menu, smiling. "I want the strawberry and cream waffles with a mango smoothie.""Excellent," The lady let her eyes roam over Dior appreciatingly before she forces herself to stop checking him out. "Yo