Silent Wounds Burn

The ceiling became fuzzy as Bella remained still on her bed, gazing at emptiness. Her mind shifted between fleeting awareness and the heavy burden pressing on her chest. She hardly recalled listening to voices—her mother’s, Amanda’s, Eve’s, and Joy’s—desperately calling out her name. Next arrives obscurity.

As she propped herself up, the room swayed a bit, and she saw her mother nearby, watching her quietly. Bella's breath caught as she noticed tears running down her mother's face. Her chest pain intensified even further.

 "Honey," her mother cooed softly, opening her arms.

 Bella crumbled into her embrace. The warmth should have comforted her, yet it only highlighted how shattered she felt within her. Her voice broke as she sobbed, "Mum, Marcus rejected me." "My mate rejected me."

 The words felt bitter on her tongue. Expressing thoughts verbally made them feel more genuine. She had wished—prayed—that this was a terrible dream from which she would awaken. However, it was not.

Bella sensed a quiver pass through the older woman's frame as her mother's embrace grew firmer around her. She understood. She had lived through this very pain before. Bella knew her mother’s story—the betrayal, the discarded promises, the man who had fooled her, fathered her children, and abandoned them without a second thought. Now, history had come full circle, slapping Bella in the face with the same cruel fate.

 "It hurts so bad. Please make it end, Mom. "Please," Bella cried, clutching her chest as if she could actually take away the pain. "Oh, goddess, I would sacrifice anything to end this suffering."

 "My honey, I am so sorry," her mother choked out, pressing her lips against Bella’s hair, as if willing the pain to seep into her instead. But it didn’t. It stayed, twisting like a dagger inside Bella’s soul.

Minutes bled into hours until exhaustion drained her of the ability to cry any longer. As her mother finally left the room, closing the door softly behind her, the silence felt heavier.

Sleep didn’t come. And when it did, it wasn’t restful.

 In the dead of night, wrapped in darkness, tears slipped from Bella’s eyes once more. Her wolf, Hilda, was silent—so eerily silent that it terrified her. She could still feel her, crushed and wounded, but there were no words, no comforting reassurances. Just grief.

 Since she was fifteen, Bella had dreamed of meeting her mate. The elders and teachers always spoke of it as the greatest moment in a werewolf’s life—the moment they found the one destined for them. She never cared for power or status. She only wanted love. Someone who would protect her, cherish her, and stand by her despite the cruelty of the world.

 And for a moment, she believed Marcus was that someone.

Her heart had leaped when she discovered he was her mate. She had thought—foolishly—that he would erase all the pain she had endured, that he would lift her and her family from the whispers of pity. But reality had torn through her dreams like claws through flesh.

 Now, all she had were questions.

What would become of her?

Would her wolf survive this?

A werewolf without their wolf was an empty shell. Some went mad. Others simply wasted away, lost in their grief. Bella had yet to accept the rejection, but when she did… would she break beyond repair?

 She clenched her fists. Why had the Moon Goddess done this to her?

 If she wasn’t meant to be happy, why pair her with a Beta? She would have been content with another omega, someone who saw her for who she was. Someone who loved her.

From that moment on, Bella vowed never to cry in front of her mother again. She refused to remind her of the happiness she could never have. And she refused to let her sister lose hope just because she had.

 The bathroom became steamy while she washed her skin, using her hand to stifle her sobs. Yet, regardless of her efforts, she couldn't eliminate the pain.

Then it happened again.

 A sharp, searing agony tore through her body. Bella gasped, clutching at her stomach, her knees nearly buckling from the intensity. She knew what this meant.

 Marcus.

He was with someone else. Again.

Her wolf howled in anguish, rage simmering beneath the sorrow. But at least Hilda was there. At least she hadn’t abandoned her.

 A week had passed since school resumed, yet Bella hadn't found the strength to return. Not when she knew what she would see—Marcus, wrapped around Agnes, flaunting their bond for all to witness.

 Her phone buzzed loudly. She wiped her hands and reached for it.

 Joy: Get prepared. We are taking you shopping. See you soon!

Bella sighed. They meant well, but they didn’t have to spend money on her. Still, maybe a distraction would be good.

 The moment she heard her name being called from downstairs, she jumped. They were already here?

"We're coming in right now!" Eve’s mischievous voice echoed up the stairs.

Before Bella could protest, the door burst open, and Eve, Joy, and Amanda tumbled in, grinning.

 With supernatural speed, Bella yanked on a tank top and shorts just as Eve smirked. "Hmm. Quick reflexes. Not bad."

"Let's get going!" Joy chirped before turning to Amanda. "You coming?"

"You bet I am! No way I’m missing this rare outing," Amanda giggled.

Shopping turned into more of an adventure than an actual spree. They darted through the streets, teasing, laughing, and for a brief moment, Bella felt almost… normal.

But the illusion shattered later that night.

Joy, determined to stay over, had practically begged Bella’s mother for permission. In the end, Eve and Joy both claimed spots on the floor of Bella’s room, wrapped in blankets, chatting animatedly.

"Let’s watch The Originals!" Joy cooed dreamily.

 Eve groaned. "Oh, goddess, not again, Joy! You’re obsessed. Those hybrids don’t even know we exist. They’re always in their own little world."

 "Whatever." Joy rolled her eyes. "A wise woman once said, If you can't have your fantasy, read or watch it!"

Bella let out a laugh, the first real one in days. "And that wise woman is you, I suppose?"

 Joy huffed and lifted a pillow. Bella barely had time to dodge before the soft cushion smacked her in the stomach.

Then it hit her.

Not the pillow.

 The pain.

White-hot and unrelenting.

 She doubled over with a strangled gasp, her body twisting as the familiar agony ripped through her.

"Shit!" Joy’s face paled. "Bella, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!"

 "It’s not that," Eve’s voice dropped into a low, dangerous tone. She grabbed Bella, pulling up her shirt just enough to reveal the burning bruises forming across her abdomen.

 A deadly silence fell over the room.

Eve’s fangs elongated, fury darkening her gaze. "That gigolo. He’s doing it again."

Joy sucked in a sharp breath, tears filling her eyes. "It’s not fair. He can’t keep doing this to you."

 Bella let her head fall back against the pillow, drained beyond words.

 "How many times has this happened?" Eve’s voice was tight, controlled rage.

 Bella hesitated, then exhaled. "This is the third time."

A tremor ran through Joy. "Three times?" Her voice broke. "Oh, Bella..."

 Eve’s hands curled into fists. "No. We’re not letting this slide. We’re done watching him get away with this."

She bared her fangs fully, her expression one of unfiltered wrath.

"He has bitten off more than he can chew," she snarled.

 "And now, we will get even. Bella—it’s Operation Payback."