One.

...

I was one of those rare wolf shifters born on the day of the Trista comet.

A cursed wolf. A wolf whose mother died as soon as she released me from her womb. A wolf whom according to tradition, was automatically designated an Omega or less regardless of strength or family's position. 

The comet insignia appeared on my chest at the moment of my birth, a permanent remainder of my curse. 

But there was some uniqueness in being a Trista wolf, aside experiencing my first shift at seven years old, I also had an extraordinarily strong sense of smell, far more so than other wolves. 

Though marked an Omega, my father, Alpha of the Blackmoon pack kept me under his protection, with my identity hidden from the pack. That prevented me from being hated and shamed in my teen, as I would have been otherwise.

However, things began to go terribly wrong after the pack went into bankruptcy. My father had unconsciously invested the pack's funds into a business he was told would yield double the amount he deposited. 

It was too late when he discovered it was a fraudulent business. The huge loss caused my father to suffer a heart attack that eventually landed him in the hospital and finally into comatose. 

The situation caused disorganization among the pack members and a brawl broke out.

Meanwhile, thanks to my step mother, everyone learned about my true identity as a Trista wolf just at the same period. Pack members believed Trista wolves were bad luck, so, since that day, they blamed me for the pack’s follies and my father’s ailing health. 

From that point forth, the pack members bullied and shamed me. Worse, they no longer regarded me as the Alpha’s daughter. Even my own family treated me no better than a slave.

 No matter what I did, I found favor in no one's sight. 

As if that wasn't enough, the pack elders plotted to dethrone my father officially for hiding my identity, a plan I was sure they would carry out the moment he regained consciousness. My stepmother blamed me for all the woes, even though she was the one who made my identity known to the pack in the first place.

 They tortured and locked me up, called me ugly, dumb, disgraceful, and other names so disgusting I care not to mention them.

Alone, I was forced to serve the pack. 

I cursed myself and the moon goddess for making me pass through such maltreatment. Sometimes, I cursed my mother, too. But as I grew older, I realized none of it was her fault. It wasn’t like she could have known the day the Trista comet would appear. Even if she had, I doubted she would have terminated me.

In the past, the only person I could count on that cared for me was my mate, Henry. I also had Ava, my wolf, who was literally a part of me.

At first, I didn't believe I was a cursed wolf, but when I lost Ava right after I turned eighteen, I started to doubt myself. I couldn't understand how it happened. It was like a dream, and I cried until my body could produce no more tears. It was more than enough reason for others to taunt me more. 

Meanwhile--without Ava--I no longer knew if I was a wolf or a human.

Maybe I was just in-between.

Of course, I wasn't the first werewolf pup to be birthed on the day of the Trista comet. But I was the first who remained in the pack, the first to remain alive.

All other Trista pups were banished from the pack at birth, and most were believed to not have survived it. But a myth said they actually became rogues and returned to fight the pack now and then.

Henry, of the Asphere pack and I, were the only ones who knew about our mate bond.

We had a secret relationship, though I didn’t know why he suggested we keep it hidden. And I didn't care to know either. It was enough that he accepted me and didn't reject me as I always feared that he would. He was the only hope I had, my key to surviving and living the blissful life I'd always dreamt of. 

In a few days, he would proclaim me as his mate, and proceed to take me away from this hell of a pack.

He didn't care that I was cursed and considered bad luck. He loved me anyway and that made him my salvation. My second chance at life.

In the tremendously large kitchen of the five- storey building that served as the pack house, I worked to prepare breakfast for everyone. I had woken up hours before the cock crowed and cleaned all the rooms of the pack members, including the nursery of the little pups. As usual, my fingers were already sore, and my eyes begged for a nap. 

My tummy rumbled as I dished out breakfast for all the members. Because they didn’t permit me to eat at the general dining, I cooked enough so I could save some for myself to eat later.

I served the meal and rang the bell to inform everyone breakfast was ready. The older members emerged first and then the little ones.

They looked neat and smelled nice, having showered after returning from the pack’s morning exercise routine.

“What are you staring at?” Aspen, my stepmother, snapped at me.

"I- I was just leaving."

"Go then. Get out! Your stench is ruining my mood."

I returned to the kitchen, where I quickly ate my breakfast. 

It wasn't until the entire pack had eaten that I had a little freedom.

I took a bath and was preparing for my secret date with Henry, when my door flung open. Quincy, my stepsister, stormed in.

She stared at my room, wearing a horrible grimace and pinching her nose dramatically.

I gripped my towel at the sudden intrusion, and she eyed me irritably. "Come to my room at two o'clock sharp. I have some clothes that needs to be washed."

I pursed my lips. Even though I was older, she never once regarded me with respect, and I couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm not busy right now,” I said. “I'll come pick them up once I'm done dressing."

"Are you deaf? I clearly said 2 p.m," she sneered.

"No, I'm not deaf. But I have plans for that time, so I'll just do it now."

"Don't you dare, Claire. Whatever plans you have aren’t as important as my laundry!"

"What difference does it make if I do it now or later?" I queried.

"You'll do it whenever I say you will. Who the fuck do you think you are questioning my orders?"

"I see you're just looking for an excuse to be pissed. If you don't want me to do your laundry now, then I'll just do it tomorrow.l, I'm not cancelling my plans just to wash your clothes—”

She cracked a splitting slap across my face. A gasp escaped my mouth as I held my burning cheek, glaring at her.

"I want my dirty laundry picked at 2 p.m on the dot. Disobey me, and I'll have Mother deal with you herself, you Trista cursed demon!" She spat at my face and stomped out of my room.

Massaging my burning cheek, I sighed, then cussed my fate. I'd have to cancel my date with Henry. I truly wanted to see him, too. It had been so long, and I missed him greatly.

I prepared and tried communicating with him about the change. 

At 2 p.m, after I finished cleaning the pack's training yard, I made my way to Quincy's room to get her clothes. I knocked, and she answered within seconds, looking all sweaty and breathless. I perceived a familiar scent from the sweats on her body but I didn't think too much of it.

"Come in," she smiled brightly at me and opened the door, gesturing for me to enter.

It wasn't until I stepped inside her room that the scent hit me again, heavily this time and at this point, I knew I couldn't have been mistaken.

"Come on baby. Just one more round, huh?" 

My gaze flew to the guy on her bed, who was just as sweaty as her. His upper half was bare while a duvet covered the rest of his body.

I froze, hoping for the first time ever that my senses were wrong.

"Stop playing with me, Quincy. I know you want it—”

"Henry?" My voice shook.

When he turned and faced me, I could no longer feel my legs.

...