Scarred

Chapter One: Scarred

The eyes that stared back at me were dark, almost coal black. They were hard and cruel. The scar that looked like four jagged lines going across the left eye didn't look anymore welcoming. The full ruby red lips were pulled back into a snarl, and the curvacious body was tense, poised for attack. My reflection looked no happier then I felt. Of course that is how any girl would feel on their eighteenth birthday. Har har. I turned in the mirror and let the scarlet fabric of my dress swirl around my legs as my deep auburn hair danced along with it. I tried a smile at myself, and she looked like she wasn't amused. It looked painful. I picked up my hairbrush and ran it through my hair once more, before tossing onto the marble top vanity and walking down the stairs.

The entire pack was assembled, and as I bobbed and weaved through the crowd I had to curse. Why did my Father have to be Alpha and have these crazy parties every so often? I hated people. I hated the pack that has shunned me for the past three years. Like it was my fault I had been kidnapped and returned a different girl. I could feel several sets of eyes watching me, but I paid them no mind. I was looking for the food. Score.

My eyes fastened on the big buffet table and I started grabbing a little of anything that appealed to me. A male larger then my father, so about Six foot Six, slithered up to the table. I could feel his eyes on the side of my face, It was my right side so at least I didn't warrant a look of disgust from my scarred half. He didn't look familiar. He had blonde hair and I think his eyes were blue or green based on their light color. His muscles stood taunt against the fabric of his shirt. I couldn't place him, so that either meant he was a guest from another pack or he was a loner.

After he kept following me down the line I finally had enough. I whipped around to face him, and felt my plate fly up, and down my dress. My eyes grew wide and then narrowed at him, not able to look him in the eyes.

“Thanks. Like I needed anything else to bring attention to me.” I snarled and tore up the stairs. Whatever, I hated these parties anyways.

I tossed the dress and pulled my favorite band hoodie on, and a pair of black stone-washed skinny jeans on. I was just about to put my ear buds in, when a knock sounded on my door. I swung it open prepared to rip open a new one to whomever had been standing there. My fathers ice blue eyes bore into mine.

“I specifically asked you to be here tonight. That does not mean running off upstairs. Get downstairs now.” He towered above me, speaking to me until I was bent almost in two. All I could do was nod as he grabbed my arm and yanked me behind him. I stared at everything but where I was going back to. The shiny cherry balustrade, the solid bella wood flooring. The crystal chandelier. Like I said anything. He pulled me to the front of the room and silence fell. I tried pulling some of my hair in front of my face but it was no use.

The entirety of the pack was staring at me. Their once sympathetic looks had changed into disgust. Yeah, yeah. I know. If you don't like it don't look.

“Tonight is a night that has been a long time in the making,” My father stated to the Pack. His smile was as radiant as his acting skills. “We have finally closed on our peace-talk with the Silver-Claw pack.” There was a sound of applause and whooping. “ In order to finalize these talks we have agreed to have our children Marry, and unite the Red-River pack and the Silver-Claw pack into one pack. We hence forth shall be know as the Red-Claw Pack.” Cue more whooping, hollering, and applause. Then it hit me. Hes marrying me off. To a stranger. I turned and glared at him. The blonde hair buffet crasher from earlier walked up to the front of the crowd, and did a little bow.

“Jamison.” He held out his hand. I glared at his hand and growled deep in my throat at him refusing to meet his eyes. The poor guy looked shocked as hell when My wolf ripped out and he was faced with a scarred red wolf standing before him. His eyes were wide with shock. Either from the scars which were still highly evident or the fact there has never been a red wolf know to any in our history. I snapped at his ankles as I tore out of the grand room, skidding on the marble floor when my foot pads could not find purchase. I slammed my body into the door and it clicked open. Eff this S. I am getting out of here. I don't have time for this crap.

I merged into the underbrush of the woods behind our grand-house and just ran. Soon I was in an all out sprint, tongue lolling out. Bursting into my clearing I shifted back. The cold Autumn wind bit into my bare skin, and I shook out the leaves from my blood colored locks. Why would my father do this to me? I sunk to the ground and let a couple of tears slide down my face, when I heard a twig snap. I grabbed a rock that was a good size at my knee and balled my fist around it. I was around in a millisecond Arm up ready to kill whatever it was.

Jamison was standing there with his hands up, his eyes roaming my figure. The widened when he took in the scars flashing against the moonlight.

“What happened to you?” His deep voice asked in the softest of ways. I stiffened as he took a step forward, I took another back. “I'm not going to hurt you.” He promised me. I could almost laugh at that.

“Glad to hear it. I can't say the same.” I informed him.

“Scarlette.” He whispered my name. I growled at him. I don't care how this was arranged. I would be a lone wolf before I accepted this fate. Males are evil. The use you, and abuse you. The only person a Wolf could trust was herself. I didn't like the way he looked at me. I didn't like the way his face was contorted as if it was painful to see me.

“Your Father told me you had been forced into The Arena. I didn't know it was this bad though.” I hissed as I took in a sharp breath. He had told this fool what had been done to me, and Yet his pack still agreed to the merger? Were they stupid?

The Arena is an underground Werewolf fighting ring. Where Wolves were fought to the death. Sometimes they were in there for their own monetary benefit, but more often times then not they were kidnapped or abducted or blackmailed into the ring to fight. Rich humans and Werewolves alike placed bets. If you won, You would be treated well, if you were a Male. If you won and you were a Female? You were passed around, if you know what I mean. I had survived for two years in the hellhole. Fighting every Saturday night. The darkest One-Hundred and Four nights of my life. I shuttered, and then realized that while I was having a PTSD episode, he had edged closer to me. Finally meeting his eyes, I felt my universe shift. I heard his breathing become shallow, and forced.

He was my Mate. And I was getting the heck out of here.

I Shifted and ran as far as I could. Away from the man with the blue-green eyes, and the beautiful un-scarred face. I refused to be anyone's but my own ever again.