Patricia
I 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 means to be a rogue? You haven't even found your mate yet! Who will protect you?!"
With bitterness, I walk right past her. I take off my shoes, knowing her eyes are glaring me down. She is taller than me, but I'm not frightened, and I will never apologize for standing up for myself and leaving my omega life behind. I'm done being bullied.
"Patricia, are you ignoring me?!"
I walk into our kitchen, aware of my mother following me. Without a care in the world, I take out a Pepsi from the fridge. I thought I would be a mess after leaving my old pack, but without Dior's voice inside my head, bubbles of joy are soaring up to my throat.
Today will be my rebirth.
And tomorrow, I will be a little stronger.
"PATRICIA!"
I finally turn around, meeting my mother's glare. Her fingernails have turned into claws, and I smile. She has never been good at hiding her anger, which is one of her flaws.
"I heard you the first time."
"Why did you leave the pack?!"
"I'm tired of the werewolf life," I tell my mother fiercely. "We have too many rules, too many rankings, and incredible discrimination among our kind. After I've graduated from upper secondary school, I want to design wedding cakes—not howl at the new moon."
My mother's eyes narrow. "Patricia, you can't run away from what you are, and leaving the pack is the stupidest decision you've ever made! You're no longer protected by the alpha and have turned yourself into a target for witches and vampires seeking a new toy!"
Sorrow wrecks my senses when I peer into my mother's worried eyes. Her anger has been replaced by concern, and I tilt my head, trying to offer her my most reassuring smile.
"I'm not good at being a werewolf." My voice is calm, and my words are the truth. "Unlike all those heroines in the various werewolf books I've read, I'm not secretly a princess sheltering hidden powers. Neither will I hit the mountains to train and become unexplainably strong. I'm only Patricia—please accept me for who I am. My pack couldn't do that, but you're not only a werewolf; you're also my mother."
My mother opens her mouth, then closes it again with a hundred words written on her round face, but her sad expression tells me she won't act upon them.
"I take great pride in my role as the alpha's advisor." Her words break my heart, yet I stand tall. "You know I can't risk everything—I've worked hard for this, Patricia."
"I understand." I fucking don't, but werewolf logic runs deeper than blood, it seems.
"And..." She hesitates, glancing away in shame, and my heart succumbs to nothing before she even utters her sentence because I know what will come out through her mouth. "I can't shelter a rogue, Patricia—you know it's against the rules."
I blink multiple times until I finally break and laugh as a broken record played on repeat. "You're all insane—werewolves are sick in the head, and all these rules are ridiculous!"
"Patricia..."
"No!" I shout, with tears falling down my cheeks. Our bridges are burning down. I can feel it in my bones. Right now, I'm standing in the ashes of our daughter and mother bond. "Don't explain yourself after you chose a stranger instead of your daughter! How could you do this to me? All of you werewolves are nutcases!"
"But you're a werewolf too..."
"Yes, I am! But if you and Dior were hanging from the side of a mountain, waiting to be saved, I would rush to your aid first because you are my family! You're my mother!"
"Patricia..."
My mother is wearing her heart on her sleeve, showing the inner battle against her motherly instincts and the werewolf ones. The latter is winning, though, and my shredded heart bleeds.
"I will take my leave."
Shocks seep into her features when I walk into the hallway. Every part of me is hurting, and every movement is heavy. I'm losing my grasp of reality, and deep inside, I'm hoping this is an awful nightmare.
A headache throws inside my skull as I bend down. I'm busy putting on my shoes when words return to my mother.
"But shouldn't you head upstairs and pack your stuff?" She asks. "You will need clothes and clean underwear."
I glare at her. "No, I want nothing to do with you—keep my stuff. I will figure something out."
My mother shed a single tear, but I'm out through the door before she has time to break me further. I'm too proud to let her see me cry, and she sure as hell doesn't deserve my tears.
I rush between the trees in our backyard, shape-shifting without caring about my clothes. They rip and turn into broken strings, and I shake my fur before darting into the forest.
With my sadness ripping through me like a storm, I let it carry me past trees and rocks I've never seen before. Leaves are hurdling down from the sky, and I jump over sticks and stones.
How could my mother do this to me?
And why is Dior always the cause of my misery?
He is a goddamn curse!
Furiously, I pick up speed and dart past the river. I've never run this far before, and I'm aware this isn't Winterbite territory. The hills from here belong to another pack, yet I'm not afraid.
I keep running, allowing large flakes of snow to land on my nose. I've always been drawn to winter and its light colors. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and I love those cheesy movies about finding true love under the mistletoe.
My heart cracks at realizing it will never happen to me.
In a perfect world, I would be with someone already. I'm nineteen and haven't felt the mate-bond, meaning my mate probably doesn't live in the same town, or they are under the age of eighteen.
Damn, I wish to find them. Hopefully, my mate is sweet as sugar, someone whose smile can light up this entire town. I want to share my cookie dough with a smiling face and build a future with a gentle soul.
All the girls find that floating, sweet and addicting super-love in the romance books—I want that emotion too, but instead of riding the wave, I want to drown and coat my senses with love. I so badly want to experience my insides filled with bubbly, hot chocolate.
And my kind is known for having a unique mate, someone hand-picked only for you by the moon goddess. But considering my luck, mine probably ran into a bus and died.
Loneliness wrecks me until I hear a recognizable howl—Dior is calling for me, but I won't head his way. I will never be his little omega again. It's time I focused on myself.
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
DiorI didn't go back to school after enjoying breakfast at the diner together with Patricia. I'm too tired. It's like I'm running a fever—the symptoms are all there. I'm sweating and freezing, but I took my temperature, and I'm supposedly fine.Groaning, I shift around in the tall grass in our backyard. I called an Uber from a borrowed phone in the other town and had the driver take Patricia to a hotel nearby.Although the stubborn woman was fighting me, saying she couldn't accept it, I somehow convinced her to let me pay for her stay at Scandic. Patricia will live there for an entire month, with all-inclusive meals and room cleaning every day.I don't mind the price. I'm a rich alpha, and paying for her stay there is better than the alternative of letting her stay with William.Anger churns in my stomach at the idea of William touching her, but then it's replaced by pure pain. I experienced another attack of what I had this morning, and it
Alice I wake up with a start, knowing a girl named Gloria has been murdered. I saw the entire scene in my dream. A two-legged werewolf, one with blazing eyes and snow-white fur, tore her to shreds. The creature in my vision wasn't from this world. Fear runs through my veins, yet I came to this town to put an end to this creature. Visions of this creature awakening won't leave me alone. At first, I only saw eyes staring back at me, but now the monster has slaughtered a werewolf, and I can no longer stay idle. I tiredly put on my clothes. I don't care about fashion and dress like Aerith from Final Fantasy on most days. I've always been kind at heart, and Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter is my idol—she wasn't afraid of being herself. She always smiled, and watching her gave me the strength to wear my floral patterned clothes and boots. Humming to myself, I walk out through my room at the hotel, almost crashing into the girl from the other day—Patricia.