The Werewolf Mate Prophecy of Death
Because of the sins of death the werewolf race has committed,
Every 100 winters,
There will be a half a heart without the other half.
There will be battles fought, souls broken.
And in the end, the half will perish, but the other will live.
~
My name is Amia. It means loved, I think, which is ironic. I'm not loved.
Let's start from the beginning.
I'm Amia. I'm a lycanthrope. A werewolf. A shifter. Whatever you'd like to call me.
And for some of my pack members, that includes fat. Ugly. Stupid.
You know how this goes.
I have cried enough tears to fill the Pacific.
I have suffered enough sins to fill the underworld.
My heart has frozen over.
And though they say every frozen heart must thaw some point, mine wouldn't.
They didn't say anything about a cracked heart, did they?
Because mine cracked right down the middle. Right open.
And it's not getting better anytime soon.
~
Hi! This is for reaper333's reap-off, but we would just like to inform you that there are absolutely no swear words in here. So yeah.
"Amia! Get your freaking fat butt down here and make us the dang breakfast already!" Screeched Lysander. My brother.
Haha. Sure. My brother.
More like my master.
I dragged myself out of my bed. Ok, my cot. It's more of a dirty, chewed up mattress than anything.
I look into the cracked mirror. Same old, same old. Same old dirty blonde hair.
Oh. You thought my hair color was dirty blonde.
Oh, no. It's actually more of a silvery blonde. Or was it strawberry blonde?
I forgot.
After all, it's been a few years since I've actually thoroughly wash my hair.
Or anything.
Same old round, chubby face.
Same old fat figure.
Same old-wait, what? I lifted my fingers to my blonde eyelashes.
My eyes. They're turning into another color.
Maybe this time they'd actually be pretty.
Maybe this time, I'd finally be happy.
Today's the day I get my mate.
Today's the day I leave Lysander and my abusive parents.
Today's my sixteenth birthday.
"Amia?" Lysander's extremely girly voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
"Coming!" I yelled back. I walked down the stairs slowly, hesitantly.
When I left for school, I had a new black eye and a new twisted ankle.
