fate's celestial blueprint

I dashed as quickly as my tiny legs could take me down the corridor and into my mom’s room. I could hear the noises of chaos outside and my mother’s terrified screams. She was calling out to me, but I was too frightened to reply. I didn’t grasp what was going on. I slid beneath the bed and tried to steady the wild pounding of my heart as I hugged the stuffed llama tightly to my chest. Today was meant to be a joyful day. She told me I was turning five. I was supposed to have a birthday celebration, but as I listened to the sound of popping balloons and the cries of the other kids inside the pack house, I wept in silence. “Scarlet?! Honey, where are you?” My mother urgently murmured as she stepped into the room. I let out a faint cry to show her I was nearby. I stretched out a tiny hand toward her while gazing into her striking blue eyes that met mine from where she was kneeling beside the bed. “It’s alright, my sweet girl. You stay right here. Everything’s going to be fine. Just keep hiding” she suddenly glanced toward the hallway, then let the blanket fall and rose to her feet, shifting to stand behind the bedroom door. I caught the sound of approaching footsteps loud and deliberate. It resembled the thud of sturdy boots pounding against the oak floorboards. I pressed a hand over my lips to silence myself as I glimpsed what seemed to be a man entering the space. He was dressed in dark utility trousers and black tactical boots. A blade appeared to be slid into the left boot, making the hem of his pants bunch slightly. I stayed quiet, watching as my mother cautiously slipped out from behind the door,then suddenly froze. You? But for what reason?" she gasped. I could detect the shock in her tone. She must have recognized this individual. No response came only the sharp crack of a slap, and I watched her collapse onto the ground. "We will locate her, Priscilla! If you know what’s in your best interest, you’ll tell me where she is!" the man shouted. My mother never flinched or backed away from him. Instead, I saw her fix her gaze on his face, defiance clearly written across her expression. "I will never reveal her location! You will never lay a finger on her! Do you hear me? Never!" she yelled in return. She glanced at me for a moment, silently urging me to remain concealed. I attempted to call out to her as He seized a handful of her hair and began pulling her from the room. Our eyes met, and I saw the terror in hers as she murmured gently, "You’ll be alright, my darling. I love you." Then she vanished around the corner. I attempted to block my ears as the noises of fabric ripping and bones snapping filled the air just before a deep snarl from a wolf echoed throughout the house. I whispered a desperate prayer that it would all stop as I listened to my mother’s screams while she was ripped apart. She still wouldn’t reveal where I was concealed beneath the bed. The only source of solace I had was the pale llama she had purchased a few days before. the first light of dawn from the rising sun filtered through the worn-out curtains of my space or what one might even consider a space, it was merely a tiny nook in the furthest corner of the attic where I had an old creaky metal frame with a thin mattress and a weathered sherpa throw to keep me warm. I stirred from sleep and gazed up at the ceiling. I could catch faint traces of the morning dimness peeking through the gaps in the wooden planks above. Rubbing away the visions of last night’s terror from my eyes, I realized I had been plagued by the same disturbing dream every single night for the past several months. "At least it didn’t pour last night," I muttered, glancing over at Maggie the llama, who was nestled beneath the blanket beside me. She looked a bit worn and some of her fur’s color had dulled. I let out a groan as I pulled myself out of bed to begin the day. My routine was fairly straightforward since I didn’t have much to do The garments given to me were worn and discolored. There wasn’t a mirror in the space to see myself, and I didn’t have any access to a washroom in the attic. The sole source of light was the sunlight filtering through the window and the gaps in the ceiling and walls. I had a few candles placed nearby, but they were meant only for nighttime, and that was if I managed to find any matches on my way back to the space by the evening. I exhaled deeply as I picked up the small wooden comb from the table beside the bed and forcefully ran it through my deep reddish-brown hair, allowing my naturally untamed curls to drop just past my shoulders. After getting dressed, I performed a few light stretches and flinched in discomfort as my body cried out in torment with each movement. The beating from the day before still clung to my skin as though it had just happened. The fractured bones had begun to mend, but the discolorations would linger for at least several more weeks. After completing the final stretch, I picked up the hair fastener, toothbrush, and homemade paste I managed to create using herbs gathered from the garden, then made my way to the closest washroom located one level beneath me. I carefully stepped down the staircase that connected to the attic, being cautious to avoid the creaky steps. I had quickly discovered that even the faintest sound in the early hours would result in a fury-driven assault from Beta Brent Davencourt. He valued his rest more than anyone else within the pack residence. Perhaps he spent his nights working or indulging in celebrations .I wasn’t entirely certain, but regardless, I had no desire to disturb him. Though he held the position of second-in-command, his punishments were the most agonizing