The Bloodbound Curse

Selene's POV “You stupid b***h! I should have rejected you as my mate from the start” my dad growled, smashing the lampshade on the wall. I flinched, covering my ears in fear as I hid behind my mother. “Alaric please, not in front of her again.” My mom begged, almost in tears. My father stared at her for a moment before letting out a low, mocking laugh. There wasn't even a hint of remorse in his eyes. If anything, he seemed amused by her tears. “Not in front of her?” he repeated, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “And why should I care?” That last line broke my little heart. It was always like this. I didn't understand what they meant, I only knew that whenever my father looked at me, he looked disappointed. I had tried so hard to make him love me. I would run to him when he came home, I would show him flowers I picked outside but he never cared. “What happened to you?,” my mom whispered as though trying to figure out what went wrong with my dad. At this point, it was her reflex question because he always blamed us for ruining everything. “Get out of my way Freya.” My mother's name, Freya. I loved the way it sounded. Soft, beautiful, warm. “No,” she shook her head. My father's jaw tightened. “I said move.” “Alaric we've been over this, time and time again. It's not her fault,” my mom's voice shook. “You still don't understand, do you?” He stepped closer. “she’s the reason everything changed, Freya. She's worthless. You two are a disgrace to this pack!” In the next moment, his hand moved so quickly I barely saw it. My mom stumbled. “Run, Selene!” I shook my head. “No” I didn't know why I said it. But I just knew I couldn't leave here without my mom. And right now, leaving her felt worse than staying. My mom tried to reach for me but my father grabbed her arm and pulled her to the other side of the room. “Please leave my mom alone,” I begged, wrapping my tiny arm around his legs. He looked down at me and pulled his leg away like I was nothing, making me fall hard onto the floor. “Selene!” My mom screamed and that was when I realised something, my father wasn't going to stop. He pushed her down, her head hit the floor. His fist came next, my mom cried out curling into herself as she tried to protect her face. He hit her again, and again. The sound of each blow made me flinch. “Dad please stop,” I cried, begging my dad. He flipped her over, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up, only to shove her back down. She tried to crawl away but he caught her before she could get far. He didn't stop until my mother's cries grew quieter. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed a pen knife from the top of the drawer and shoved it right into her neck. “Nooo!!!” I screamed until my throat burned. I scrambled toward her, but my legs gave out beneath me. I fell hard onto the floor, staring at my mother in disbelief. “Mom,” I cried. She didn't answer. My father slowly pulled the knife away and stood over her. Everything became strangely quiet. The rain outside continued tapping against the windows, but inside the room, I could hear nothing except my own frightened breathing. “Mom?,” I whispered. Crawling closer with tears pouring down my cheeks I continued, “mom please wake up.” Her eyes were open, but they weren't looking at me anymore. I reached for her hand, it was still warm. My father looked down at us. There was no regret on his face, no fear, nothing. He simply turned around and walked away. “Dad?” I called out to him but he didn't stop. I stared at him, then I turned back to my mother. “Mom, please…” I pressed myself against her, crying into her chest even though she no longer held me. Eventually, she turned cold. That was the last time I ever heard my mom's voice and the last night I ever called my father Dad. FOURTEEN YEARS LATER I still woke up screaming sometimes and tonight was one of those nights. I shot upright in bed, gasping for air. My hand immediately went to my chest. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it wanted to break through my ribs. I had the same night mare again. I was only four years old when I learned that monsters didn't always have claws. Sometimes, they wore the face of the person you loved the most. I looked around my room, the dark walls, closed curtains, my desk in the corner, everything was normal, everything was safe, but my hands were still shaking. I closed my eyes and for a second I could see her again. My mother's face, her blood, her struggles as he kept hitting her with no remorse. For fourteen years, I had carried that night with me. For fourteen years I remembered every detail and for all those years, only one thought had kept me going. Revenge. I pushed the blankets away and stood. The floor was cold beneath my feet. I walked towards the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. A stranger stared back at me. Fourteen years had changed me. shoulders, almost reaching my waist. My grey eyes looked tired even though I had barely slept. I looked nothing like the little girl who cried and watched her mother die. That little girl was helpless, I wasn't anymore. I reached for the drawer beneath my desk and pulled it open. Inside, was a photograph of my mother. I picked it up carefully, she was smiling in the picture. Happy. Alive. I ran my thumb over her face, “I haven't forgotten about you.” My voice was barely even audible, “I never will.” I placed the photograph on my chest, “I'll make him pay.” My father had taken everything from me. My mother, my childhood, our family. He abandoned me after her death, leaving me at the community pack centre as though I meant nothing. Then he married his mistress. He built a new life. A perfect life. A life where my mother never existed. But I remembered, and I would make sure he remembered too. No matter what. I placed the photograph back inside the drawer then I pulled out another object. A knife. I stared at the blade. I had been preparing for this moment for years. I had trained my body, studied the layout of his territory, learned everything I could about the Ashford pack. But there was one thing I still didn't have. Enough strength. My father was an Alpha. And I wasn't stupid enough to believe I could simply walk into his territory and kill him. Not yet. I needed to become stronger, much stronger. I tightened my grip around the knife. "One day." Staring at my reflection, I continued. "One day, Alaric Ashford, I'll stand in front of you." My eyes hardened. "And when I do, you'll remember her.”