"Why the whole ‘fancy-fancy’ food? Is it a special occasion? Let me guess... Is it for Damon's birthday? A little present from you?" She snickers at me. I feel all eyes turn to me, but I obediently keep my head down. Damon is the soon to be alpha of our pack and is turning eighteen in about four days. It's a big thing and I'm supposed to cook for it...
"I guess you could consider it that. If the alpha is kind enough to accept my gift, of course," I answer in a small voice. I was told from the beginning to address Damon as alpha and nothing else, unlike the rest of the pack.
The room falls silent as every eye turns to Damon, who's sitting at the head of the very large dining table. I look through my long, black lashes to see his face. I'm met with a considering expression.
He nods his head once. "I accept your gift. I will expect a grander and more appropriate gift on my actual birthday though. Do you understand?" His tone's filled with power and authority.
"Yes, alpha, I understand," I say, returning to my former position with my head down.
"Good. Now, off you go." He shoos me off and as soon as I enter the kitchen, I hear their laughs and snickers. I will myself not to cry. I've shed too many tears over these heartless people.
They soon finish their meals and it’s time for dessert. I've finished mine by now, so I place theirs on the table with a blank face. They eat up and by the time everyone has finished and has stayed around talking, I've cleared the large table and washed up.
I enter back into the dining room, and wait in my usual spot by the door of the kitchen. Every night before I go to bed, I either get hit or nothing for the meals I've cooked. It's the same with breakfast, lunch, and any other meals they eat. As each one walks out of the room, I either get shoved or ignored. Which means they liked my cooking. Tina, on the other hand, slaps me across the face. You probably think that's harsh, but that's equivalent to someone else's shove. So just imagine what someone else's slap is to her. It's not a pretty sight.
Damon is the last to leave and he stops in front of me. I cautiously lift my head and stare into his beautiful blue-green eyes. He has a blank face, as do I. We stare at each other for a moment before he walks out and leaves me alone in the dining room to fix up.
Damon has been my crush since I was about ten, even though he treats me like the worthless thing I am. His brown hair and blue-green eyes are the main aspects that draw me and many other female wolves in. He hasn't found his mate yet either, which means he's available. He wouldn't go for me though. Not in a million years. I'm too different.
I head to bed in the early hours of the night. The pack no longer requires me after about 7:30pm, so I am ordered to bed, which I quickly oblige, so as not to get beaten. I still have bruises from the worst ones.
The sad thing is, I believe everything my pack had said since my parents died. That I'm not beautiful, but ugly. That I'm not unique, but different. That I'm not a part of their family, but their slave.
I sigh as I enter my makeshift room. It's bare, except for a large window that lets the moonlight from the full moon flood into my room. My bed is pretty much a sheet on the hard, splintered, wooden floor, and my pillow is a pillow cover stuffed with newspaper.
I won't be sleeping there tonight though. Not anymore. Not ever again.
I pack what little belongings I have into a sack. A pair of worn out jeans, an oversized shirt with holes in it, a skirt, one other shirt that appears to be clean, and a pair of socks. I don't own any shoes.
I grab the only piece of jewelry I have, my mother’s silver necklace, with her and my father's names engraved into the heart-shaped pendant. The pendant has a yin and yang symbol in it, but it's made with little black and white crystals. I slip it into my shirt and proceed to the window.
I open it wide, and without a glance back, or second thought, I jump. I jump to my freedom and my new life.
I shift into my snow white wolf and take off with my sac in my mouth. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I can survive. I am only a newly shifted wolf at the age of sixteen.
What I do know? I'll never have to see my 'pack' again. That is enough to make me smile slightly in my wolf form. As I cross the border of the territory, my wolf lets out a howl, filled with happiness and joy.
We're free. I'm free.
Never again will we have to face the Moonlight pack.
End of Chapter One
Copyright © 2014 by VioletSamuels
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Unique, Different, Found - The Prologue: A Werewolf Story Page 2
