Love Triangle Of The Outcast Luna

Sofia’S POV I heard my name called again and continued to roll around on the mat. It usually worked out that way, but today they'd have to come and fetch me personally. Where is she, and why is she lounging on the bed at this hour of the day? The man yelled and swore angrily. I could sense his rage, but I don't give a damn about his emotions right now. I lay in bed with my eyes closed, resolute that I would prevail. This time, I was prepared for any form of punishment he would dish out. "Damn it, it's 4 in the morning; why is she still in bed?" I overheard him say as he drew near, and based on his tone, I anticipated his entry. The way he yelled at him made me imagine iron buckets crashing to the ground. He must have fallen and hurt his leg on one of the iron buckets that line the hallway heading to my room because he screamed and cursed at them the entire way. "s**t, oh my God, this is so painful, fool," he muttered under his breath. Since I had to fight off the big mosquitoes that sang crazy songs with terrible beats in my ear, I was up well before three o'clock and rolling around on my torn mat. My skin was not immune to their ferocious assault, and I found myself wondering when it would end. Anyway, I've grown accustomed to my current situation,this is the way of life I've been leading, despite the fact that I own the second-largest mansion in the Diamond Cut Pack and provide for my own family. That's correct my very own bloodline. After getting in at midnight, I slept for only about three hours. I have to be on call 24/7 in case any of them needs me for anything, no matter how outlandish. But this morning is unlike any other I've experienced. The temperature outside is too low, and I feel like I could benefit from some additional shut-eye, as my older sister, Bianca, used to be granted. So, unless they physically drag me off this ancient mat, I intend to sleep longer than usual. I waited for his arrival with dread, cursing them all under my breath and hoping that the agony from his blow to the iron bucket would never go away. If it's already this late, why is she still lying on the bed? I heard him yell once more. On purpose, I did not respond as I normally would have. What difference does it make if that were the case? Whether or not I responded to my name, I knew I was in for a severe pounding. I understand that the punishment I would endure for not responding would be greater, but at least this one is fair, so please be patient with me. "Sofia!" he yelled. To wit: "Where is that w***e, Sofia? He swore once more. Sofia, That's me right there. My father, the Pack's beta, used to call me that when he first laid eyes on me. When I first met his kid, I was so weak that I had to pass her by. I used to be a total embarrassment to my friends and family. So, instead of picking out a name that was once popular among my people, he just picked out Sofia. When I inquired as to the origin of my name, he responded that he could care less. He re-emphasized the fact that I posed a threat to him. He said, "You have never been good for anything; get out of this mattress now," and dumped a bucket of water on me. When I felt the coldness of the water on my skin, I let out a startled scream. For a few seconds, the water rendered every part of my body it touched numb. A toddler could knock it down with one good kick because the lock was so weak. But after getting soaked through and through, I couldn't care less about the useless door. I stayed where I was, wrapped from head to toe, and didn't try to get up when cold water was poured on me because I had already sworn that if he wanted me, he would have to come and get me. "Are you going to waste your life away doing nothing productive?" In a hysterical outburst, he tossed the bucket at me. I let out a scream and rolled around even harder. I shut my eyes tight because I didn't care if anything else came after me. To paraphrase his curse: "You are forever a disgrace." Yes, he made a valid point. I am a disgrace to the esteemed Beta Thomas household. I am the antithesis of everything that makes them the pack's second-strongest family after the alpha. He grabbed me by the collar and tossed me into the air, his rage evident in his actions. My lower back hit the floor, and I yelled out in pain. At least I wanted to be raised, and now that I am, I see that it wasn't such a great idea. Luke, please forgive me. I pleaded. No one needed to tell me what would happen next; I could already guess. I've made his morning by upsetting him, and now he'll make sure I pay for it. Everything about me indicated the costs I'd paid for failing to live up to their once-impossible standards due to my illness. The scars, wounds, suffering, and broken bones are all remnants of evidence of my plight. My problems, however, did not end there; they spread to my wolf, which is not like any other wolf. Like every other werewolf, my wolf used to let my wounds heal on their own, but now he can't. Just like with humans, it takes time to heal and always leaves some scars. You can see that my wolf, Stake, is not only worthless to the general public but also had no value to me in the first place. Mama Jane is the only person in my life who accepts me completely and without judgment for who I am, and I adore that about her. You dummy, why haven't you been picking up when I call, and why are you still sleeping at this hour of the day? Angry, he demanded. Luke is the oldest of my parents' three sons; the other two are younger brothers. I am the fourth, and my mother was overjoyed to learn she was carrying a daughter because our pack's luna had never produced a female offspring. However, my presence transformed their joy into a constant state of terror. Sorry, brother, I missed your call. He was also insulted when he was called "bro." He has always been irritated whenever he hears me speak in such a manner, and he has never failed to show it. Nobody in my family was keen on me addressing myself to them. Everyone involved desperately hoped I didn't exist, and they wasted no opportunity to let me know it. "Brother? He came up to me and slapped me hard across the face without a second's hesitation. As I clutched my sore cheek, I said, "No, Luke, Luke," to express my regret and correction. He laughed at me, regarded me with contempt, and replied, his eyes bulging with fury. His expression was amused. I felt cold because I was terrified of what might happen. "You shouldn't try to get to the mansion before him," he said. He turned around and added, "Don't worry, we will soon hand you over to a mate since you are very useless." And you're just so vile that it's hard for us to get anyone to hire," he swore. "Yo," I stutter-started, "you said..." A mate? Only a few short months have passed since I turned sixteen; why are they already plotting to hand me off to someone? Am I so vain in their eyes that they can't wait to throw me away, and they're not even trying to hide it? All along, I knew that these sufferings would end eventually. I believed that eventually they would accept me as one of them and apologize for everything they had done to me; that I would forgive them; and that we would all remain as one big, happy family. However, they are not sorry at all now, and it is clear to me that they never were. Now they're doing something even worse than they always do: dismissing my feelings and passing me off to someone else. Nobody gave a damn about whether or not I ended up loving him. What the heck am I thinking, though? Did I finally accept that I was destined to find love? Whence, and how? Even my own relatives don't like me too much. At this point, I have to presume that not even I love myself. Yes. But why would anyone accept such a frail and self-absorbed werewolf? Perhaps they are helping me out. It might be good for me to find someone, because if I continue to age in my frail condition, no man will ever find me appealing.