Against Devil

1 - For The First Time

Love is not merely an emotion; it is the relentless burden and exquisite torture of the soul when the other person blurs the lines between love and hate. In this dangerous dance, the boundaries are not just crossed-they are toyed with, leaving both halves of a once-whole heart in mourning. Trapped in this limbo, there is nothing to do but wait. Wait for the inevitable moment when one inflicts a wound so deep, the other might never recover.

He was a man who knew no boundaries, a reckless force of nature. And I? I was a storm of words and emotions, unable to silence the tempest within-a volatile mix, a perfect recipe for a time bomb. When it detonated, its shockwaves were felt not only by those in its immediate vicinity but also by anyone caught within its far-reaching diapason.

My name is Isabella Sage, and this is my tale-a saga woven from threads of love and hate, war and blood. I fell for a devil, a man who toyed with my heart as if it were a mere trinket, oblivious to the pain he inflicted. But he failed to realize that even the most beautiful roses possess thorns, and these thorns can inflict wounds that burn with the intensity of hell itself.

He was the devil incarnate, but it was time for me to show him the true meaning of hell.

***

Could I have ever envisioned myself in the situation I found myself today? Absolutely not.

There I was, seated at a table with the two most formidable men in our pack, positioned as though I were their equal. Yet, the air around us told a different story.

Alpha Nathaniel, from the moment O met him, exuded a presence that commanded attention. He was all business, his words measured and deliberate, leaving no room for personal matters. His dominance filled the space, an aura so palpable that, despite being the only woman there, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for him.

But that flicker was short-lived. My fleeting crush dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a nuanced respect. It wasn't his looks that had caught my attention-it was his character, cold and commanding, capable of bending wills to his own.

He was a master of manipulation, a trait I had once fallen victim to, which made me more careful around men like Nathaniel.

It's a well-known fact that the male werewolf population boasts striking looks, a trait from our ancestors designed to lure in human prey. Though our diets have since evolved beyond human flesh to animal-based sustenance, our captivating appearance remains unchanged.

My mind wandered to past moments that now make me cringe, unable to believe I got myself into this.

I never had any desire to participate in the ranking competitions, the bloody ritual many packs adhered to once in a while. Yet, fate seemed to have other plans for me, thrusting me into the very heart of fate.

Three months ago...

My parents weren't happy that my name was on the list of participants. I remember staring at my name, as I didn't believe these old people who belonged to a nursing home also required some psychiatric help.

Who the fuck would create battles between the young adult population? What did we have to prove to each other here?

I still remember the moment Kristin's fist collided with the side of my face. The pain radiated through my body, staggering me back until I found myself on one knee. For a moment, I struggled to breathe, convinced that this reckless girl had broken my nose. Blood flowed freely from my nostrils, a pulsating pain throbbing in my cheekbone.

The beast within me stirred, its anger rising. Truth be told, I had never liked Kristin. She was the pack's pariah, her long, straight brown hair always tied in a ponytail, her lashes artificially lengthened, and the cellulite on her thighs visible beneath her shorts. Just one look at her made my stomach churn.