one

13 1 1
                                    

Marabella’s POV

--

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S DEAD!?” My father roared.

 

“I-I.. She was dead when I got there, Daddy.” I replied looking down at the ground in submission. My long auburn hair hung in my eyes as I was shivering in fright and anticipation for the punishment likely to come.

 

“Don’t lie to me. You could have saved her. How could you go against your own kin like that?” He snarled in my face. He grabbed my chin to get me to look him in the eye. This action shocked me. Normally looking an alpha in the eye, even your own father, is an automatic death sentence. It is seen as a great sign of disobedience and disrespect for your leader.

 

“I am revoking any rank you had in the pack. You are no longer my daughter, you are my servant, an omega. You will be treated as nothing more.” My father smirked maliciously.

 

As he let go of my chin I double over, crumpling up on the ground. A scream erupted from my mouth as it felt like my chest was being torn in two. This was more pain than I’ve ever experienced in my life. Shifting felt like a paper cut compared to this. I’ve heard having your alpha power revoked was painful but this was more than my small body could handle. I let the darkness consume me, welcoming its presence. The last thing I heard was my so-called father’s laughter ringing in my ears like an endless echo.

 

----

 

I groaned as I forced myself to wake up. I was so sore. What happened last night? I looked around the room I was in to see I was in a small bedroom with a cot and a small closet. What the fuck is this, Harry Potter? I didn’t know that this was how we kept our omegas. If I did, I would have done something about it. This is ridiculous.

 

I swung my legs over the stained and tattered cot and gripped the side with both my hands. I some how got up onto my feet and patted over to the closet. I opened it up and saw my belongings stuffed in there like they were playing a game of Tetris. At least I still have my laptop. I was shocked by this. I don’t know what I’d do without it, all my poetry I’ve written is saved on there. I grabbed my gray jumper and black legging with some combat boots.

 

They took away most of my nicer clothing. I guess they didn’t want me to look cute while I do all their dirty work. Why? I’ll never know. I tossed my hair up into a ponytail and laid down on my luxurious cot. Note the sarcasm.

 

I stared up at the ceiling as I thought about how happy my father used to be. I was a serious daddy’s girl. That was until my mother was killed by rogues. He blamed it on me. And now with my sister dead, he lost what little control he had. After my mother’s death, he got abusive. He started drinking which tore the pack apart. He just didn’t care anymore.

 

I thought about how he used to cheer me on at pack softball games and attack me with hugs and kisses when he got home from training the younger pups. I remembered how his eyes used to light up when I’d come home with a good grade on a test or when I told him how much I loved him That’s when I lost control. I let the tears break lose and all of my anger and greif of the past few days broke out of their barricade.

 

I had an absolute breakdown. I was sobbing as memories of my sister and mother flooded my mind. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe they’d still be alive if I was never brought into this world. Everything’s my fault. I ruined the pack. My father’s life. I deserve all the punishments in the world. I deserve to be burining in the deep pits of hell.

 

A bang at my door snapped me out of my realization. “Yes,” I questioned weakly, “Who is it?”

 

A male voice replied, “You’re not in the place to ask questions, Marabella.”

 

I opened the door and the person standing at the door was who I was dreading to see the most. My dead sister’s, Michaela’s, mate. He looked like absolute shit. He had self-inflicted scratches, burns, and cuts all over his body. Dark circles were making themselves at home under his eyes and his hair was sticking up everywhere. It broke my heart even more, which I didn’t think was possible. He was always so happy and so utterly in love with Michaela

“Alpha said you killed her.” Macon, her mate, stated. “Is it true?” He continued.

 

Of course, he told him i killed her. My brain was overloaded with possible answers. I answered with the one that would get him to end my pain the fastest. “Yes, yes I did.”

 

His eyes darkened and he lunged for me, shifting in mid-air. I began to second guess my decision. Did I really want to die? I have a mate somewhere waiting for me. I doubt he’ll want me, though. I ruin everyone’s lives. I felt my wolf rise at that thought. Our mate will love us. He’s made to love us no matter what!

 

I ignored her, deciding it would be for the best if he never met me so I stood completely still, welcoming my awaiting death. Macon grabbed started biting at random places all over me, tearing the skin, crushing bones. I wanted him to just kill me already. I was physically and emotionally numb. I couldn’t feel anything.

 

All of a sudden he stopped and shifted back, “I’m not going to kill you because I know that’s what you want. But I want you to suffer.” And with that he spit on my semiconscious body and walked out. I layed there for hours on end. Hoping, praying to bleed out or something. Stupid werewolf healing.

For weeks, no one would look at me the same. I have no idea what my father told them but they all hate me. Everyone. I have been beaten and only sleep for a max of four hours a night. I am waiting for death to come and rescue me. God knows nobody else will.

---

 

A/N

 

Hey! So, I have the next three chapters finished. I will update if I get atleast two votes. Ily. :)

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Dec 04, 2014 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

marabella ☾Where stories live. Discover now