Chapter 2

Chapter 2. 

Amber Whyte Pov. 

One second he made my cunt showered. Trembled. Tightened. 

My thong was useless, soaked with my juices. 

Then I blinked. Too fast. And he was gone. 

My stomach dropped. My hands wrapped around my small frame in despair. I was alone. Aching with need. 

Dried precum glistened on my thighs. 

Then I heard it. Footsteps. Heavy. Descending towards me. 

My breath caught in my throat as Delilah and my grandmother came into view. Eyes like fire, burning against my skin with disgust. 

“Come with us.” Her voice slashed the silence. 

I found myself outside, walking miles away from the Pack. Nodding absent-mindedly to her words. 

Like a lamb, I trod obediently to the secret garden while they followed closely behind. 

I had been promised a peaceful departure. A compulsory family tradition that I just found out about. 

They called it a blessing. To ward off evil. To ensure a safe and happy life wherever I find myself. 

According to my grandma, since I was family, it was mandatory to send me off with blessings. Hers and my father's. 

I was silent, yet a million thoughts bombarded my mind. It was pure chaos in my head. 

“You are one of us, child.”

My grandma's soft, yet firm voice replayed in my head, healing my wounded heart. 

It struck me with disbelief. Her soft eyes, her thin lips stretched in a faint smile. Her calm words. 

For the first time since birth, she addressed me as ‘child’. Not bitch. Not little demon. Not plague. Her child. As if that was not enough she acknowledged me as family. 

My heart almost burst from excitement. Tears formed beneath my eyes as I marched along the bushy path that led to the enclosed private garden– not from pain, but from emotions. Raw emotions that dragged down my spine like invisible fingers. 

All my life, I've waited, prayed, yelled, begged, fought just to be acknowledged as their child. Just to be called one of them. Just to be loved. To be seen. To be heard. To miss. To be afraid to lose. 

But it took me over eighteen years to be granted that wish.

Damn. It felt good to be cherished. To be recognized as a part of a whole. 

But why the hell was Delilah here? 

Didn't she threaten to rip my heart out a few hours ago? 

I shrugged my shoulders, relaxing the terrified part of me. 

Grandma must have talked out her hatred for me. Maybe she now loves me in her own twisted kind of way. 

The lonely path soon led to a desolate cliff clearing. It was dangerously high, it triggered my acrophobia. 

Panic seized me as I stumbled back after witnessing a large body of water stretching beyond eye level, waiting patiently beneath the giant cliff. 

One wrong move and it was death. Swift. Painful. Merciless. 

This doesn't look like a garden. Where the hell were we? 

Most importantly, “Where is Dad?” I asked when I found my voice, backing away from the edge of the cliff as dizziness started to kick in.

I turned to see Delilah and my grandmother closing in dangerously. Their steps daring. Deliberate. Heavy with meaning. 

Their venomous eyes and wicked grins exposed their true intentions. 

I understood at once. The pretense and warm words. It was all a facade that I foolishly fell for. 

Like a lamb, I was led to slaughter. 

Like a prey, I felt helpless, cornered, small. 

“You don't need to worry about Dad because he won't see your sick face anymore. That's a huge favour,” Delilah squealed like a rat. A high-pitched giggle escaped her lips in excitement. 

Psycho. 

Before I could utter a plea, a pair of hands jammed in my chest, pushing me off with full force, causing me to stumble at first before losing balance. 

The ground beneath my feet gave way, causing a free fall as the shattered rocks plunged deep into the sea. 

My mouth parted in a deafening scream as my eyes flashed before my eyes. 

I swore my stomach jumped into my throat as goosebumps broke out on my bare skin. 

But then. Mid air, my fingers clung to something stiff and rocky at the edge of the cliff. But I couldn't heave a sigh of relief. Not yet. 

Not when half my body was dangling over the large body of water that waited patiently to swallow me whole. Not when my shaky fingers clung desperately to the sharp edge of the cliff maintaining a firm grip. 

I couldn't breathe. My lungs gave out. I didn't dare move. Death loomed over me. It was everywhere. Above. Below. 

“Please, you don't have to do this. We are family, remember? And I am one of you.” 

Their laughter roared in my ear. A blend of mockery and disgust. Eyes widened without a glimpse of remorse. 

I understood. 

I couldn't break into their stony hearts with warm words. 

My survival depleted every passing second. 

Still hanging by a thread as I froze amid air, I begged to be saved. 

But I was met with sharp cold gazes that cut through me like a dagger. A cold sneer that wrapped my fate. None of their eyes held a sliver of guilt. 

“Goodbye, Amber. Burn in hell!” Delilah's face twisted to a terrifying scorn that could send a shiver down the devil's spine. 

“Apologies to the devil for sending you a little too late,” My grandma added, her voice emotionless as usual. 

I didn't get to take my next breath before her strong feet kicked my fingers off the cliff. With proud smiles worn on their faces, they watched me plummet into the vast sea, eyes pinned to them in regret and my back hitting the water first. 

The last sound I heard was the echoes of their deafening laughter as they walked away triumphantly like they had gotten rid of the unwanted problem in their lives. A thorn in their flesh. 

*****

My feet broke in a race as I dashed into the Pack house panting hard. 

Yes. I escaped death narrowly. 

Before sinking into the unforgiving sea, in the battle of survival and desperation, my fingers caught a small branch. At the foot of the cliff. 

Climbing the cliff was a herculean task. My body ended up bruised from sharp stones and small rocks.

But I survived. 

I flung the door open, walking past the halls as I strode deeper into the heart of the Packhouse, searching for them. The betrayers. 

As I neared the direction of the meeting room, celebration sounds hung faintly in the air. 

I paused, leaning against the door with my ears resting to catch any sound. 

Roars of laughter descended like a storm. My father's. 

But it was strange. Nothing amuses him except it was a celebration. 

Overwhelmed by curiosity, I flung the doors open, storming into the meeting room like I was possessed. 

But then, I felt it. 

I felt him, his scent, his terrifying figure, his eyes, his lips. 

My pussy pulsed even without seeing him. 

Fuck. 

It was like he was everywhere, in my filthy mind, in my aching pussy, in my bones. 

Heat slowly rose from my body as I clenched my thighs hard, swallowing the desire lodged behind my throat. 

Fuck. Not here. Not now. Not before everyone. 

And then our eyes locked. My knees buckled. I almost collapsed on the floor as my breath hitched in excitement. 

Then I started to feel it. My creamy arousal tucked in the pocket of my pussy. 

Just then…something catastrophic occurred. 

“Mate,” Delilah whispered in confirmation. Her eyes glowed in excitement as she threw herself into his strong arms, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. 

I almost went mad in shock. 

My arousal dried up. My excitement was replaced with anger, betrayal, jealousy, and sadness. 

I wanted to die. The ache in my chest burned like flaming fire. 

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. 

But I stood tall, fighting the tears that glistened in my amber eyes. 

He saw it. But he didn't move. He didn't bat an eyelid at Delilah either. I could feel him contemplating.

That moment, I felt torn from him. Like a part of me had been forcefully taken. 

It made sense now. The reason Delilah wanted me dead. To claim him. To erase me. 

She stole him, just to spite me. Just like she did with Nathan. 

But this time was different. He was her mate. 

What sick games was the Moon goddess playing? 

Fuck. Delilah. 

She won. Again. 

The anger that welled up in my chest was quenched. My body ached from climbing the rocks. I just wanted to nap and never wake up. That was the only way I would find peace

But then, a pair of hands grabbed my hair roughly, hard enough to make me cry out in pain. 

Behind me were Delilah and my grandmother, a blend of undiluted rage, shock, and fear crawled on their pale faces. 

“When I killed you, you were supposed to stay dead, not resurrect like fucking Lazarus,” she spat, her whisper cut through me like a blade. 

“Remind me to bring my gun, next time.” My grandma added before groaning in anger. Then her eyes found me, stabbing my skin with rage and hatred. “Some people need to be taught how to stay dead.” 

Typical grandma. 

“Let me go!” I fought back, wrestling with the little strength left in me as I pulled away from her grip. 

She walked towards my father, whispering incoherent words in his ears while he nodded affirmatively. I turned to crawl into the attic where I belonged. 

These people made me sick. 

“Not so fast, bitch!” Her voice snapped, stopping me. 

“Daddy just gave me permission to take you in as my maid since I'll be leaving for my mate's Pack. So gather your filthy belongings...that's if you have any.” Her voice was laced in mockery. My grandma chuckled, giving her a high-five. 

“No! Daddy, please,” I fought back, tears spilling down my eyes, but my father won't budge. “You can't do this.” 

Delilah's fingers fastened around my neck as she cocked her head to my ears. 

“Welcome to your personal hell. You are my bitch now!”