Chapter 1 – Visiting the Graves

Alina's pov

“Heavens.” I mumbled as I looked at the sky.

The sun had just begun sending thin rays of golden light across the forest as I walked on the path leading to my parents' graves. Even till today, I felt a hollow ache in my chest, and their absence pressed on me like a weight that could never be escaped. The war had taken them away and left me stuck in this pack ruled by my sadistic younger stepbrother.

Damon.

I slowed down as I moved toward a small clearing where their graves lay. Over the years, the earth had settled unevenly, and the stone markers bore the marks of weather and time.

I knelt carefully, trembling fingers brushing away fallen petal leaves. "I miss you," I whispered, my voice cracking. "It has been years, years, and yet it still feels like yesterday. I so wish you were here to see what is happening. I wish you could fix it. I wish you could come back and save the pack. We are all suffering without you father."

I pressed my palm against the rough stone, feeling its coldness and roughness on my skin. "The pack... it is falling apart," I said softly to the stone as if my father were sitting there and listening to me. “Ever since Damon turned Alpha, nothing has been the same. He never seems to care about the people, lands, and families who once trusted us. All he cares about is himself. To appease his lustful desires, he obtains a new mistress every passing day for himself. He robs our lower pack members of their teenagers without any reason, and keeps trying to find a lady to make himself, happy and any who rejects he forcefully goes to bed with. Brcause of this breeders and girls run from the pack. And me..." My hand shook as it moved over the engraved letters of their names. "I am still here hurt, beaten, abuse and unable to flee. But I don't understand why he treats me like I don't matter. I don't understand why he treats me like it seems I am not his sister."

My eyes closed, forcing breath inside me; yesterday's memories clawed me. Damon had tried to touch me, he had tried to have sex with me, but I had shouted, pushed him, and he hadnt listened. His hands turned cruel and he pinned me down with sheer strength, mercilessly hitting me in anger, leaving many long, dark bruises on my arms, sides, and back from trying to force himself on me. I had escaped but my body reminded me every second that my escape had come with a price.

"I shouldn't have fought him," I muttered, pressing my palm to my bruised arm. "I should have kept quiet and done what he wanted, but I... I couldn't. He was going to touch me. I couldn't be still while my younger brother forced himself on me. I just... I didn't know what else to do." My fingers traced the long marks that ran across my skin, and I winced at the lingering pain. "I hope you forgive me for being hurt again. I tried to protect myself… I tried to survive but I ended up getting hurt.”

I lowered my head, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I feel so alone without you. I keep surviving because I have to, but it's hard. It's so hard." My voice broke, and I pressed my forehead to the stone one more time. The memories-warmth and protection from the voices belonging to my parents-wash over me like a tide I could no longer reach. The last time I felt loved and safe was now a fading memory.

After several long moments, I stood slowly and brushed dirt from my clothes. I needed to do something ordinary, something that reminded me I was still alive. Passing through the market on my way home seemed like the only way to feel normal-even if for a little while.

The market was coming to life as vendors called out customers to their wares. I kept my head down, trying to blend into the crowd. My feet moved quickly but carefully, and I focused on the bread stall first. I selected a few pieces of bread, fresh and soft, and added a few pieces of meat to the basket. I paid the vendor quickly, ignoring the curious glances of those around me. I did not want to attract notice. For years, my life had been filled with hiding, chores, and the fear of Damon.

As I walked through the narrow streets, wading in the short memory of what had transpired yesterday despite now hard I tried to forget, it would not leave my face. Damon's was a wolf driven crazy with lust, his sense or reasoning and boundaries blurred by lust even when I confronted him with the fact that I was related to him by blood, he just did not care.

“Stop thinking about it, just head home, eat and nurse yourself back to health. You never know when he is going to come back or what new tricks would be up his sleeves this time around.” I told myself.

The walk back to my house stretched much longer than usual, every step heavy and laced with fear and exhaustion. I held the basket tightly to my chest as though I feared one of Damon’s guards would appear out of no where and snatch my basket, something that was almost a frequent occurrence.

My relief at getting home , with my basket still intact, evaporated as I saw three guards standing rigidly before the door.

My breathing caught in my throat. The basket slipped slightly against my fingers. The eyes of the guards were sharp, and one of them frowned the second he saw me.

"Guards?" I asked, voice trembling, "What are you doing here? What, what do you want?"

One of them stepped forward, the tallest of the three, and pointed at me with a firm, unyielding finger. "You," he said, his voice low and steady, "the Alpha demands you be at the palace."