SWITCHED FATE: TRAPPED IN WEREWOLF ACADEMY BY MATES' BOND

RACHEL

“Where is that worthless piece of shit? How could she repay me in this manner?!” My mother screamed.

My heart dropped. Her hysterical voice frightened me. It always did.

God, I hated my life. I knew why she was screaming. I didn't need to be told. I stared at my bloodied palm, a reminder of what had transpired in the living room.

I had broken her expensive mirror, which she had gotten from Paris on her last trip.

It wasn't my fault. Or it was. If I hadn't stared too long into the mirror, I could have avoided everything that happened. My life…very strange.

“Rae!”

Lightning streaked across the sky just as my name was called. I jumped, holding my chest as my heart raced.

“Shit,” I muttered, turning to the door as it went ajar.

My foster sister, Lucy, stood there with her arms folded across her chest.

She tapped her foot impatiently on the ground while staring at me. She looked at the messy state of my room, before her eyes flickered to mine.

“You've always been a pig. This is enough evidence for it. However, I am not here to remind you how nasty you are,” She snarled. “Mom is calling you!”

“Don't ask me why she wants to see you, just know you're in a bloody deep shit,” Lucy snickered, turning her back, leaving the room.

Breathing out, I began to walk to the door.

“You're a mess, Rachel,” I heard a voice say as I passed by the old mirror in my room.

It was the same old, creepy voice that slithered through my skull, low and guttural, layered with something inhuman and wicked.

It wasn’t a first for me. I believe I was cursed. It started three years ago when I first arrived here. I heard a voice calling out to me from the mirror. I had tried my best to find what it was, but all searches had been futile and only worsened my situation.

I was tired of speaking to what wasn't there. No one ever saw it. I was the weird one who saw things that weren't there. I talked to literally no one, and people never believed me when I told them what I had seen, because I was the only one who had seen it.

I tried to ignore it as I always did, moving to the door, but it kept speaking.

“Do you want to know why your life is this twisted? Why aren't you loved? I'll be happy to tell you.” It whispered.

“Leave me alone,” I murmured.

“And if I don't? You'll flip on me like you did earlier?”

My hands balled into fists, and I turned to the mirror, staring at my reflection. “Who are you? What do you want from me?!”

Suddenly, the voice disappeared, and the room was silent. You'd have thought I was speaking to myself if the reflection hadn't moved when I didn't.

For a brief second, I heard nothing until it spoke again.

“Everything. I want your life and I shall have it!” it yelled. Its voice was rough, wild, and scratchy. It made my skin crawl, and goosebumps spread all over my skin.

“Then take it and leave me alone!” I snapped, the wind glided into the room from the open window, and a sharp crack sounded in the room.

The mirror was broken. It wasn't as bad as the one from the living room, as that had exploded.

“Rachel!” My mother screamed at the same time.

“Coming!” I replied, hurrying to the door.

I put my dark waist-length hair into a ponytail before leaving the room.

If my calculations were correct, the Mercers’ household was the sixteenth foster home I had been in.

And I was barely seventeen.

Ever since I was born, no one wanted me. I was told they barely found me, deep in the mountain, during a flood, hanging on to a branch.

A kind soul had rescued me, yet never truly wanted me, and dropped me off at the orphanage.

Each time I get adopted, I only get to stay briefly, at most three months, before getting sent back to the orphanage home. Why?

I couldn't tell.

No one would ever give me a good enough reason except that I was a bad child, and they were just incapable of loving me.

To be honest, my adoptive parents weren’t the problem. About sixteen parents wouldn't lie when they were repeating the same thing. That meant I was the problem, and perhaps God didn't want me ever to find true happiness.

I took the old creaky staircase one at a time. When I entered the living room, I saw my parents sitting there, waiting for me.

Biting my lower lip, I let my hand linger on the stairs rail while I hesitated briefly, thinking of what to say to their question.

If they decide to return me to the orphanage today, I'd plead with them to let me stay until I am eighteen. Only then could I gain my freedom from the harsh orphanage system.

I didn't want to return there.

It wasn't like it was any better here, as I was treated almost the same way, but I still got a few hours to myself.

“I'm sorry, ma’am, I didn't mean to break your…” I trailed off, biting hard on my lower lip. How do I say it without offending her?

My foster mother raised her head, her eyes stared at me up and down. I saw the disgust mar her face as she continued to look at me.

My father's face had the same expression. Of course, they hated me now. The cycle was repeating itself.

“Mom,” I muttered again, getting closer, putting on a forced smile.

She didn't return it. The disgust still lingered.

“Lucy said you called for me. I didn't hear you the first time you did, and I am sorry for the…”

“I am not your mother,” she hissed, standing to her feet.

My teeth sank into my lower lip, grazing it softly at her outburst. My heart clenched painfully, yet I still managed a smile.

“Did I do something wrong?” I whispered, pushing back the tears burning in my eyes.

“Are you asking me that?” She burst out. “You fucking broke my mirror and no, I am not even pissed one bit about that but I still am. Ever since your arrival here, it’s been one disaster after another. Furniture breaks for no reason, the neighbours avoid us like we are diseased, we lose jobs, and there are many more things I can add that you satan’s spawn had made us go through!”

That shouldn't affect me. I had heard worse—the unwanted child. Satan’s instrument. The cursed evil spirit. The unfortunate orphan.

Yet, her words hurt me. Maybe it was because I was hearing her sound this furious. Or perhaps because I had thought this would be the last foster home I'd be in.

I mentioned that I was no better off being in the orphanage, even though I had to clean and cook until my hands were numb here. They had cleaners, but they allowed me to do the dirtiest work. Yet, my adoptive parents were nicer than the ones in the orphanage.

They gave me clothes despite it being, hands down, from Lucy and almost ruined, it was still good enough to cover up my nakedness, unlike the orphanage, where I didn't have the privilege. I had three square meals, but in the orphanage, having a meal was a privilege. You get to scavenge sometimes.

And I get to have my room here too.

I sleep in a large room in the orphanage with other people my age.

“I’m sorry, Mom…”

A sharp crack sounded, and my head whipped backward. My cheek stung from where she had slapped me, and my hand raised instinctively to touch it.

“I said, do not call me that!” She yelled. “It's because of you that our life is ruined. We can't even get a decent job because of you. We can't live like any normal person here. What are you? Are you some kind of curse that God sent to punish us?!” She screamed in anger.

The storm intensified as if it were aware of the situation currently happening in the living room. Thunder boomed, shaking a few things around the room.

“You're a secretary in the local store downtown…”

“Well, not anymore, young lady!” She shouted, flinging a paper towards me.

Bending, I picked up the paper with trembling hands, staring at it.

She was fired from her job. It wasn't my fault. I never asked her boss to do so. I believed it was due to her incompetence because, most days, she would laze around and refuse to go to work, only giving her boss excuses.

Yet, she was blaming me for that.

“I packed all her things, mother. It could only fit into a backpack. I made sure to leave my old clothes behind. Now let's see how she's going to survive.” Lucy said, tossing a brown backpack on the ground before me.

She walked over to me, holding the strap of the dress I wore. “And this belongs to me. You can't wear it anywhere.” She yanked it, and it ripped from the shoulder, down to my chest area.

Thank goodness I was wearing a sports bra.

“No, please, mother. You can't send me out in the storm.” I rushed to her to grip her hand, but she pulled away.

“I told you to stop calling me that. I didn't birth you. And if you refuse to go, I am going to drag you out myself!” She declared.

I didn't get a chance to keep pleading with her as she pounced on me, gripped me by my hair, and began to drag me to the door, yelling at Lucy to pick up my dirty backpack.

The wind screeched, lightning lit up the room in a flash of white, almost blinding me.

We had barely reached the door when it exploded inward, every window in the house shattered in a single breath.

“What the hell?” My mother exclaimed, letting my hair go.

The wind howled through the room, as if it had a voice of its own, and the candles, lights from chandeliers, floor lamps, and even table lamps died.

A figure stood in the doorway.

It wasn't human. It was too huge to be one. I couldn't tell. It was massive, hunched, coated in mottled fur that shimmered silver-black. Its claws scraped the floor as it proceeded towards us.

Mom screamed. Dad, who had been quiet since I stepped into here, swore and fell back. Lucy shrieked, ducking behind the couch.

While me? I couldn't move. I stood rooted to the spot, afraid.

The creature stood in front of me. It didn't move to anyone else. Only me. Its eyes glowed gold.

“Eat her. Take her.” Lucy screamed from behind the couch. “She's the freak here. She brought this upon us. She's a fucking monster!”

The creature must have heard her plea as it raised its huge hand, and it landed on me. Pain detonated behind my eyes.

I screamed, my knees buckling, and I dropped to the floor, wrapping my arms around myself as agony ripped me open from the inside.

The monster picked me from the floor and flung me across the room. My back slammed hard on the wall, and I could hear a bone or two breaking from the impact. My vision blurred as dizziness washed over me.

It was going to kill me, but right now, dying was better than being alive. This life was too cruel for me to keep living.

I felt myself being picked for the third time, and once again tossed around like some dirty laundry. This time, I didn’t feel pain. The only thing I could think of was death.

I was dying.

No, falling. That was what it felt like.

“Ivy!” I heard an unfamiliar voice. Sharp and loud.

I hit the ground hard with a thud, gasping.

My eyes flew open. Pain shot through me almost immediately as I twisted around, frantically searching for the monster. But I found none.

Instead, I was in a room that didn't look like mine. Clean sheets tangled around me: a warm bed, a high ceiling, golden light filtering through unfamiliar windows.

And a woman. She had a warm smile on her face as she stepped closer to me. “Welcome back to Astrae Lykaon Academy for young, promising wolves, Ivy Sawyer.”