The Curse of Fated Mates

Elara's POV

The scream tore through the air before I even saw the blood.

One second, Falcone was standing in front of me, calling my name. The next, blood… chaos erupted. People ran. Plates clattered.

Grannie Alba’s hand found mine. “Run!”

We ran. Again.

If you’ve never lost your home, your safety, and the little scrap of peace you thought you had, on your birthday, you can’t imagine the sound it makes.

It’s loud. Fast. And it burns.

We ran into an old cottage nearby, my lungs clawing for air. I shoved Grannie toward the chair in front of the witch’s old shelf.

While exploring the woods I discovered that anything placed there became invisible, whether object, human or wolf. I didn’t know if it still worked, but tonight I’d believe in anything.

“Stay here,” I whispered, eyes darting to the window. Outside, snarls ripped the air. Flesh tearing. Bone snapping. I hated that I knew those sounds by heart.

“Are you okay?” I asked and she simply nodded.

I pressed my back to the cold wall, heart hammering.

This wasn’t their first attack on Open Creek Pack.

We’d been losing people for years, one raid at a time. Our borders got weaker. Fighters fewer.

The snarls, the sounds of jaw snapping and flesh tearing from outside made me want to pull out my hair.

Then came…absolute silence.

I pushed the door open, stepping into a fog heavy with the scent of blood. The familiar line was drawn on the ground in front of us. It looked dark and wet.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared ahead at our house which was now inside the demarcation.

It had been claimed!

The fog cleared slightly and my eyes were drawn to a round object that lay ahead of me on the ground, just beside the line. Two dark eyes stared up at me. The scream I had been holding in for so long, tore through my throat.

Happy fucking birthday Elara!!

A small ceremony was held the next day to honor the wolves who were killed. But the image of Falcone’s head lying there, separated from his body, burned into my mind.

Of all the people who died, Falcone’s was the most gruesome. His body was found some distance from his head. He was beheaded mid-shift in an attempt to fight the soldiers.

The event left everyone visibly shaken. We were down to about forty pack members, and we waited for the Alpha in silence.

It had been three days, and he was yet to address the pack. Meanwhile, Grannie Alba’s health only worsened. With our home claimed, we had to move into the old cottage with nothing more than the clothes on our backs.

“Grannie, we have to go see Dr Isabella,” I said over a dinner of oats and stale bread.

She shook her head stubbornly. “It's too dangerous. Werewolves shouldn't be mingling so often with humans, I can't have you do that. Plus, we don't have any money to pay for treatment.”

“Please Grannie. I can't lose you too,” I spoke up before she could argue any further, my voice cracking.

Her eyes softened and she nodded wordlessly. I smirked internally. Works every time.

——

The visit to Dr Isabella went well and she asked that I get some drugs for Grannie Alba.

“We don't have any money. You know that, child.”

My hands paused in the sink where I was doing the dishes. “I'll pay a visit to Alpha Pelna,” I said with a shrug.

I could feel her piercing gaze on my back.

“The family is grieving their dead brother, Elara,” she started, making me turn swiftly to face her.

Grannie Alba hardly called me by name, when she did, it was serious.

“Open Creek is a mess. I don't think the alpha would give you any money, much less for an old woman who isn't even a part of his pack.”

I winced at her last statement. It was the truth, but the truth hurts.

Grannie Alba wasn't a part of Open Creek Pack. She wasn't a wolf.

She had taken my birth mother under her roof many years ago after she found her covered in blood and shivering when she was only sixteen-years-old. It was a big risk she took and if she ever regretted getting involved with werewolves, she hadn't shown it.

“I'll find a way, I promise.”

——

A loud crunch filled the room as I let out a loud cry. Alpha Pelna was towering over me as I knelt. The cane in his hand dug into my fingers until they cracked. Our pack might be a small and insignificant one now, but Alpha Pelna still had the strength of an Alpha.

I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.

Despite the conversation with Grannie Alba, I set out to pay a visit to Alpha Pelna.

Maybe I should have given it more of a thought before going over to the house. But I didn't.

Alpha Pelna had allowed me an audience, much to my surprise. But when I got inside, an even bigger surprise was waiting for me.

“If it weren't for you, my brother would have been safe at home that night, away from any danger but instead, he went to see you! To celebrate your Goddamn birthday” He sneered.

“I…..I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about Falcone, Alpha,” I pleaded. “I wish I could change things, please forgive me alpha.”

The pain was intense because I healed very slowly whilst the cane still dug into my flesh.

To my relief, he lifted the cane off my hand.

“I don't want to see your face again. Stay on whatever part of the land you've been staying because, so help me god, I'll kill you myself the next time I see you.”

Ideally, the words of an alpha would have weaker wolves like me shaking and cowering but not Alpha Pelna.

He had made himself so small before his pack members that his words no longer had that effect. I just wanted to be away from him.

I nodded and didn't wait to be dismissed before I fled the building.

Home was out of the question. My hand still throbbed, and Grannie Alba would notice. She’d ask questions I couldn’t answer. That and the fact that I still had no money to buy medications.

Thoughts swirled as I walked. My parents gone before I could get a grasp of life. My friends, either killed in one attack or bonded and gone. I thought of Grannie Alba who was struggling in pain, alone at home.

Somehow, I found myself back in town. The familiar streets surrounded me.

An idea came quietly, curling in my mind. Good thing the hood hid my face.

I knew of an abandoned warehouse around the corner. I’d passed it countless times.

With no clue what was stored there, I hoped it would be something worth selling.

I approached the large metal gates, The gates weren’t locked. I slipped in. I felt uneasy.

Something wasn’t right.

Barely five steps in, I froze. A half circle of guns aimed at my head.