Chapter 1 - Traumatized

Ava's POV

It was pouring. Heavily.

My peach-colored dress was soaked, and my phone kept vibrating in my pocket.

I stood there, watching from a distance as the blood of my parents mixed with the rainwater that filled the streets. My eyes drifted to the car, still open. I could see my mom's hand, limp, hanging from the side. I started walking toward it, my legs feeling like lead. I didn't dare get too close. My voice came out as a whisper, shaky, barely audible, "Mom, mommy... are you... are you okay?"

My dad's lifeless body lay flat on the floor, his eyes wide in shock as blood from his severed head pooled beneath him. My heart raced, terror creeping through me, but I couldn't shift into my wolf form. I just kept mumbling, "Daddy, Dad... please wake up! Mom! Don’t leave me! Somebody, anybody, help!"

But my heart remained calm. Too calm. My body felt numb, detached from everything. I blinked twice, hoping—praying—that I was hallucinating. Maybe this was just some twisted illusion. The popcorn in my hand had long since gone soggy, the paper probably melting into the wet mess. Without thinking, I shoved a handful of the soggy popcorn into my mouth.

Bitter.

The exact taste of what my future now held.

"Mom... Dad, why aren’t you coming over?" My voice cracked, a sharp pain stabbing my heart for a few moments.

I wondered, deep down, if I felt numb because I didn't love them enough or because the pain was too much for me to handle after witnessing everything. I had watched as a wolf ripped into my father's neck and tore his head clean off. Then it sniffed the car, like it was searching for something.

It was supposed to be a normal Saturday movie night. I remembered just an hour earlier, smiling in the mirror, dressed in my short off-shoulder black gown. Mom had been laughing, helping me tie my blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Mommy," I’d called.

"Yes, honey?" she answered.

"Do you think I’ll find a mate, like you and Dad?"

She laughed, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Of course, sweetie. You’re mommy and daddy’s little princess, and you’re a beautiful gem. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Thanks, mommy." I blushed.

"You’re welcome, honey. Now, let’s go before Dad gets upset."

We never missed our Saturday movie tradition... except for tonight. And now, I hated that tradition.

I couldn't even remember how I got to the hospital. I must have stood there long enough for my body to go numb under the rain. The last thing I recalled was Aunt Janet’s voice, pleading with the doctor: "Doc, please save her, she’s all I’ve got!" And then the red lights of the ambulance... before I blacked out.

When I woke up, three hours had passed. I found Aunt Janet huddled in the corner of the hospital room, silently crying. Her body curled into a ball, her hand patting her chest as if trying to calm herself.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to me, like a movie replaying in my head. Every single detail.

"Ahhhh!" I screamed, jumping out of the bed and yanking the drip from my arm.

Aunt Janet rushed to my side, trying to hug me, trying to comfort me. But I pushed her away, screaming louder. They were gone. Dead. And I would never see them again.

"Bring them back! Bring them back to me!" I screamed until my throat felt raw.

The doctors and nurses flooded into the room, trying to calm me, but I hurled everything I could get my hands on at them.

"Don’t touch me! Bring them back! I want my momma back!" My wolf was on the verge of breaking free. If I’d had a smooth first shift, I might’ve let her go. Let her tear apart anyone like they’d done to my father. Let them feel the same pain that now coursed through my veins.

"Bring them..." I felt something sharp prick my arm. My vision blurred, and I couldn’t make out the doctor’s face before my consciousness slipped away. I vaguely heard the doctor's slurred words to my aunt.

"She’s too shocked to process what happened. She’ll need help."

---

Two months later.

Grieving isn’t something that can be fixed with a magic wand.

If it were, I’d have chosen that option in a heartbeat.

As I crossed the street to our house, I wiped my nose and pulled my coat tighter around me. The past two months had been filled with therapy sessions, helping me come to terms with the loss. It wasn’t easy, but it was helping, at least a little.

"Aunt?" I called out as I stepped inside the house. The smell of something delicious wafted from the kitchen. I followed it, finding Aunt Janet fussing with the oven. "What magical concoction are you making?"

"Just cake. I found this amazing recipe online." She finally turned toward me, concern in her eyes. "How was therapy?"

I forced a smile, nodding. "It’s working. You were right; therapy helps."

"Good. That’s progress." She smiled softly. "Go change and come help me."

"I’ll be back in a minute."

Aunt Janet had been incredible since I lost my parents. She stayed with me at the hospital, helped me through the darkest nights, and introduced me to therapy. I was grateful, but nothing seemed to truly help.

Well, it helped me build a facade. One I wore for her and for my therapist.

As I headed to my room, I passed my dad’s study. I couldn't resist stepping inside. Aunt Janet had kept everything spotless, as if Dad would return any moment. I ran my fingers over the papers on his desk.

My dad had been a journalist, and my mom had stayed home because of her health. My eyes landed on his journal, the one he always kept close. Smiling, I picked it up and flipped through it. Some notes were too cryptic, but others I understood.

Then, I stopped on a page.

The word Lyconia was circled, surrounded by missing persons reports and mentions of ‘unnatural deaths.’ Dad’s conclusion was clear: there were more werewolves in the city than anyone knew.

I remembered the stories my parents used to tell me about Lyconia, their hometown. Dad was an Alpha before they moved to Alabama. That place had always intrigued me.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. If Lyconia was my father’s origin, then maybe I should visit. Maybe that would help me heal. And maybe, just maybe, I could find answers about their deaths.

I closed the journal, tucking it into my bag. Aunt Janet would never let me go, so I kept it to myself. After dinner, I pretended to go to bed, then snuck out with a few essentials.

Five hours later, I arrived in Lyconia. My heart pounded. This was my father's home. The town where he had been an Alpha. The place where I might find answers.

I checked Dad’s journal again. Clawcrest. That’s where we belonged. With a bit of help, I made my way to Clawcrest Ville.

As I approached the sign, I saw a man standing nearby. I walked up to him, trying to mask my nervousness with a smile.

"Good morning."

The man gave me a once-over, his gaze sharp. "And you are?"

"Ava. Ava Goldington. My father used to be Alpha here."

His expression darkened. He called out loudly, "Yo, Matthew! We’ve got another one."

A bulky man appeared from a nearby house. "Who is she?"

"Goldington something. Says her father was Alpha here."

Matthew stepped closer, sniffing the air around me. "Definitely one of us, though her scent is weak."

I took a step back, deciding not to mention that I wasn’t in control of my wolf yet. "Can I meet the Alpha?"

Matthew nodded. "Sure."

The first man looked surprised. "Just like that?"

"There’s no harm in her meeting the Alpha, right?" Matthew gestured for me to get in his car.

Even though he was being polite, something felt off. Had I just walked into a trap?