Loved a Werewolf, Married a Lycan

Is this really the end for me? I recall everything, every moment that happened in my life for all the years I have lived as I take another step forward towards the swimming pool. All those years and yet not one year passed by happily for me. Is this what they meant by cursed? I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks and my heart weighted more than normal. Why me? I have always been afraid of water but not today, today is the bravest I have been and also the most craven. With another step, I jump inside the pool. Flashbacks of the past flashed in front of my eyes as I was closing them forever.

Around 4 years back.

Zayla's p.o.v

“Hi everyone! My name is Zayla Pierce.” I said as I stood beside the teacher in my new classroom.

“Is that all you want to say to your new classmates?” the teacher gently spoke to me.

I nodded. That was it. I just nodded.

This new environment was not for me. All these new faces staring at me; few with curiosity, few with jealousy and few like hungry dogs- sorry wolves.

After leaving my parents’ house I travelled for an entire day to come here, to a new place, to a new beginning. But right now, my heart beats fast and I am afraid everyone in the class heard it.

I want a new, silent, low-profile beginning.

“Don’t you want to tell us why you transferred to our high-school in the sophomore year?” the gentle voice of the teacher pulled me out of my musings.

“Amm-” I did not know how to reply to the question. Should I say I was beaten and tormented at my adoptive parents’ house so I ran away here or should I make up a lie? I don’t know.

“Alright. It’s fine if you don’t want to talk much about yourself right away. I understand it’s your first day in school and a lot might be going on in your mind right now.”

I was relieved when I heard Miss. Evans say those words. I neither had to lie nor tell the truth.

“Nory, could you take the empty seat in the second row and leave your seat for Zayla,” the teacher asked a blond girl and she immediately narrowed her face upon hearing that.

“Why me?” she answered back without hesitation.

At that time, I remembered my father. He would’ve taken out his belt and lashed it at her if he was here. A girl is never allowed to talk back. He’d say something like that.

“Because Zayla is new here. It would be better if she stayed near the class monitor since he can help her cope to this new environment.” The teacher’s voice was still sweet and gentle.

“Why can’t she sit near Hannah? She is a class monitor too,” a brunet haired girl raised her head immediately upon hearing the name and the desk dragged sound grabbed everyone’s attention. Too bad her sleep was disturbed.

“Because that’s why.” The teacher stated. “She is in her dreamland most often than in the classroom. I need to assign someone to help her first before she can be of anyone else’s help.”

The blond girl didn’t have anything to say on that. Reluctant, she grabbed her bag and all of her stuffs from the table and made her walk to the newly allotted seat, but not before she glared at me. If looks could kill, I would be six feet below the ground, and if her werewolf powers have fully been tamed, then it’s only really matter of days before that actually happens.

Why is my life so hard?

“Zayla, you can go and sit there. Ethan, please be sure to help her.”

I bowed my head as I walked towards my seat. I did not want to see the faces of anyone; the faces that held powers and secrets.

I silently took my seat and hanged my bag on the back of my chair.

“Hi, I’m Ethan,” a voice brushed through my neck from the back.

Ethan. The class monitor. I recalled.

“Hi! I’m Zayla.” I looked back to greet him back and to his lord’s sake, I have never seen such beauty in my entire life.

That was our first meeting.

“Nice to meet you,” his voice pulled me out of my admirations for him.

I smiled and turned back to the front. My eyes were still holding his image like it had mugged up all his features in that spilt second.

His dark brown hair, straight nose, brown eyes and those thin lips that I am not sure I could feel if it ever touched mine. He is gorgeous. No wonder that blond girl protested a lot and didn’t want to change seats.

“Alright everyone, I hope everyone studies nicely today too. Have a good day.” Miss Evans left with those gentle words and the class became a fish market in the blink of an eye.

“Who is she even to sit near Ethan the minute she enters the class?” I could hear the voices.

“Exactly. We have to do something about it.” My heartbeat rose upon hearing that.

Am I not safe here too? What was all the use of coming this far to start over again if I was eventually going to be looked down on and be bullied?

“Hey,” a hand tapped on my shoulder and the fear was swept by the distraction.

I looked back and saw those brown eyes again.

“Is there anything you want to know about our school?” he asked and disturbance melt there and then.

“There are few things I am curious about.” I softly spoke.

I was trained this way by my parents. A loud voice meant severe beatings and I did not want that. So I never raised my voice and it became a habit.

“What are they talking about?” I heard those girls’ voices again.

“I’m sure she is trying to seduce him.”

I lost my words again.

“Don’t worry about them,” the sweet voice yet again dragged me out of my cowardice. “They can’t hear us. All they can do is try and guess.”

“How? I thought all werewolves have a strong hearing sense.”

“They do. But some werewolves have a remedy to that. They can put up a shield and make sure no one can hear them and the person they are talking to.”

“So, you have that power.”

With a gentle smile, he blinked. And my dear god, I fell for him. He made me believe in love at first sight.

“Then I’d like to accept your help. Could you guide me to the library during the break time?”

He paused, like he was trying to study me.

“So, you are like the studious type?”

“Not really. I am more like a silent lover.”

“And library is the place of your preference.”

I blinked.

He nodded.

Just then the teacher came and our short yet sweet conversation ended.

The teacher looked like he was in his late fifties and would retire very soon.

“I see we have a new student today,” his voice made me self-conscious. “What is your name my dear?”

“Kayla Pierce,” I stood up and answered him.

“Oh, no need to stand. Sit back down.”

I obeyed.

“So, which Pierce family are you from?” his question dropped my heart.

I am an orphan. I don’t know who my parents are, I don’t even know my real identity. Everything I have now is because of the mercy of my adoptive parents. I owe nothing. I have no originality.