When No One Loved Them, How Did The Story Resolve?

Ariella has been silent since she was four. Unable to talk after being abused by her sister. But her 18th birthday brings her wolf, healing, and freedom. She Escapes her abusive and neglectful home only to meet her Mates! Just when she feels her life about to begin, they reject her! When her second chance takes claim will she finally have the life she deserves will she forever be the neglected, rejected, and abused Princess of Werewolves!

The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day. I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids. He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh. "Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?" I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair." Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…" I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out. Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down. Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

Of all the pups in the clan, my parents only loved my brother and sister, but not me. When the fire broke in the pack, they hurried into the flames to save their pups, but only took my brother and sister. Left behind, I suffered facial burns and my wolf grew extremely weak. From then on, I lost interest in fighting for their love. Whoever wanted them, could have them. After all, I was already dying. But I did not anticipate their regret. They held my thin frail body and begged: “Could you throw a little tantrum at us again… just once more?”

I am the hated true daughter of my family. One day, I was kidnapped along with my sister. The kidnappers cut off a section of my finger and sent it to my parents. But they just thanked God that the kidnappers had not cut off my sister’s finger. They deciphered the hint from my sister and alerted the police, but the kidnappers learned about it. To protect my sister, they told the kidnappers that I was the one who revealed the address to them. Because of it, I was tortured to death while my sister was saved. Oddly, when my parents found my mangled body, they broke down and said that they were going to make my sister and the kidnappers pay.

My father was a highly respected criminal investigator, and my mother was the head of the ER, dedicated to saving lives. However, I was a regular at the local police station. I fought, caused trouble, and earned the title of “the most hopeless kid on the block.” The first time, I publicly insulted my newly transferred cousin at school. My father dragged me straight to the police station in front of everyone and had me locked up for a full day and night. The second time, I led a gang of thugs to block my cousin’s way home in an alley. My mother was so furious, she dumped me deep in the mountains, leaving me to be bullied by a lecherous bachelor. The third time, I stole a keepsake from my cousin and tossed it down a sewer. My father put the handcuffs on me himself and sent me straight to juvenile detention. Five years later, I became a key informant in an anti-fraud operation, helping the police crack a major nationwide case. The media rushed to report the story, and journalists packed my parents’ house to interview the “hero’s family.” However, my parents just scoffed over the phone. “Her? A hero? We will only believe she is changed for the better when she is dead.” So why was it that when they saw me lying in a pool of blood after shielding a hostage, they finally cried?

As her ears started ringing, the lump in her throat growing, the words he spoke faded into the background. Her eyes welled up, and her breath hitched, she had heard him right? “Earth to Rebecca, hello?!” He replied to her in an annoyed tone. She took a deep breath, “After 20 yrs you really don’t want a life with me” she managed to speak slightly above a whisper. She had been his rock, put his needs first, never said no to his frivolous spending, and had loved him enough for the both of them; yet in the small bedroom in their city apartment he stood with divorce papers in hand. She hadn’t been naive about the rough patch that they were navigating, but they had always worked past because Rebecca had always put her husband 1st. “Rebecca I don’t love you and no level of your love is going to undo these divorce papers. I can’t even stand to be in this room with you, but I want to be on a united front when we tell the kids.”