Never Goodbye, A Werewolf Romance - (Book 1-The Mist Series)

~Chapter 3 - One Of A Kind~

~ Louise ~

The car ride with Mum was suffocating. The air hung heavy with unspoken worries as she stared intently at the road, her hands clenched white-knuckle tight on the steering wheel. What could either of us say? I have cancer. They’re taking everything out! The hope of finding my mate was dwindling to nothing. I could die! No words could fix it.

Like clockwork, the familiar tsunami of memories threatened to pull me under—as it did every time I left Doctor Anderson’s clinic. My fifteenth birthday. The day my world changed slammed against the shores of my mind. The flickering party lights seemed to dim all over again as I saw the bloodstain blooming on my dress in a grotesque flower of crimson. Loraine—Raine and Joanne—Jo, my constant, closest and best friends since kindergarten, stood frozen, their faces a mask of shock and… pity? Goddess, I hated pity. After that day, I couldn’t walk or eat for days. Each deep breath felt like knives twisting in my stomach.

Being diagnosed with this disease at such a young age was awful. Doctor Anderson’s words were even worse. No one in the recorded history of wolfkind has been diagnosed with cancer. Who could possibly understand? No werewolf could! A human might? Maybe. But how would I explain my situation without revealing what I was? It would only lead to one conclusion—insanity.

The brutal diagnosis was a looping echo in my mind—stage three ovarian cancer. It’s spread to the fallopian tubes. A chilling choice remained. Either I surrendered my ability to bear pups, or surrendered my life. Even with an experimental surgery never attempted on a werewolf before, my survival chances were only eighty percent. Was I making the right choice? If the surgery prolonged my life, then on my eighteenth birthday, my wolf would emerge and take over the healing process. But even a wolf, as powerful as she would be, could never restore what they needed to remove.

I’ll never have pups! A wave of nausea bubbled up, burning the back of my throat as a fresh fear flooded my thoughts. Oh Goddess, what if my wolf rejects me?

Doctor Anderson didn’t mention the other cure, but I knew what it was. It was ingrained in my very being—in the fibre of every werewolf. Meet my destined mate before the surgery and hope he would accept me as I was. He would mark me, linking us together, and the connection would awaken my wolf early. My wolf would heal me, and life would be normal—as normal as the fate of any supernatural being. But luck wasn’t on my side. Time wasn’t on my side. Age wasn’t on my side. It would be sheer dumb luck to find my mate before I turned eighteen.

Tears were falling in steady streams as the realisation hit me. I’ll never be a complete wolf…!

We pulled up to the open wrought-iron school gates, parking near the front entrance. The cobblestone paths pulsed with life as students and teachers, a hive of activity in their immaculate uniforms, bustled about like busy ants. Cars streamed out of the grounds, and the last school bus rumbled away from the curb.

Our Lady of Souls Private School was an imposing stone structure with low towers and stone staircases, and felt more like a castle than an academy. Thick climbing vines embraced its brick walls, making it appear more homely and welcoming. Sprawling trees filled the grounds, their leafy branches shading the wooden tables beneath. It stood sentinel, marking its place on the precarious border between the human town of Prairie and the Mist clan territory.

The legacy of ‘Our Lady’ was one of legends. Renowned throughout the neighbouring packs, it was distinct from the lesser werewolf schools dotting the area. It welcomed werewolves and humans. Students from the Mist clan, the Sunset clan, the Hillside clan, the Riverbend clan, and humans were scattered throughout the classrooms. All werewolves lived by a single, unwavering rule—never reveal their true nature to humans… unless mate bound to one. A rare occurrence. A select few humans in the government were aware of us and kept our existence secret. This precarious harmony was built upon an ancient agreement that werewolves protected humans in exchange for anonymity. A far cry from the days when we were feared and hunted by torch and pitchfork. And Our Lady of Souls cemented this bond, ensuring our continued protection, and that our wolves remained hidden.

Ahead, two familiar teachers hurried across the walkway. Angela Mayfair, the school librarian, and an omega, stood out with her perfect blonde braid and toned figure, a dazzling smile that brightened any room. Mr. Gibson, the high school counsellor and a human, watched her with an unmissable lust common among his kind towards ours. They weren’t mated, as far as I knew, but he was always at her beck and call.

The car slid into park, idling softly. Mum placed a hand on my shoulder, gently drawing me back from my thoughts. “Are you sure you want to go? You’ve just been given some life-changing news. I’d rather take you home and spend some time with you. We can talk about the surgery, prepare for it. The Goddess knows, this is an emotional time.”

“I’m not sure,” I exhaled, a breath hitching in my chest. Should I go? The question echoed in my mind as I yanked down the car mirror, its silver surface reflecting my tear-swollen face. I looked like hell. And the thought of future cancer treatments promised to make me look a lot worse. My fingers trembled as they snagged on a strand of hair, devoid of its usual shine. Maybe I would lose my hair again, condemned to another wig. It had taken months, an eternity, to coax it back to this length after the last round of treatment.

“Sweetheart,” Mum cooed, her voice gentle as she lovingly caressed my cheek. “Let’s go home. I’ll make pancakes, and we can talk things through. Maybe even some light training to keep your mind occupied while you process everything.” Her eyes then fell on the dried blood staining my school blazer, and a shadow of guilt flickered in their depths. “Did Jewel hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said, rubbing at the injury until the dull ache slowly subsided. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse injuries training with Gamma Archie.”

“But Jewel feels terrible,” she admitted, her soft voice tinged with shame. “She was acting on ingrained omega instincts.”

Despite being omegas, the supposed lowest rank of the pack, my family was known for resilience. We possessed extraordinary toughness, agility, speed, and a singular focus. My father, Kelvin Carpenter, who died when I was just an infant, was the embodiment of these qualities. He trained and fought as equals with Gamma Archie, Beta Reece, and Alpha George, a brotherhood forged in fire that only death could break. Mum maintained a strong connection with Madeline, Gamma Archie’s mate and the mother to Tyrone, Renee, and Lauren. Madeline had become a mentor figure to me, while Archie taught me self-defence.

Their cottage was near the alpha’s packhouse, with the training grounds just beyond in the open field. Under Gamma Archie’s tutelage, I trained alongside some of the most skilled delta and beta warriors, driven by the ambition of one day earning a place among them—if I lived long enough to meet my wolf. Truthfully, I enjoyed training. But right now? Could I handle it? Besides, it had been a month since my last session. What would the other warriors think?

A sniffle caught in my throat as I pushed the window shade against the car roof. “I don’t know if I feel like training today,” I confessed. “They might sense my weakness… I know I’m feeling it right now.”

“Weakness?” Mum snorted a humourless laugh.

My tears instantly dried up. I glared at her, my ears burning. “I don’t see what’s so fun—”

“—No, sweetheart,” she interrupted, waving off my worry. “I’m laughing because you’re far from weak. You challenged the soon-to-be Alpha Joseph! Trust me, that’s not the typical behaviour of a weak omega.” She reached over, gently combing her fingers and Jewel’s claws through my hair, attempting to smooth it. “You may be sick, but you are far from weak. Never forget that… even your late father would agree. Goddess, rest his soul.”

“Thank you, Mum. I think I needed to hear that…” I said, nodding at her.

I peered into the crowded school entrance, spotting the werewolves amongst the humans. Our Lady of Souls wasn’t a wild place as you would expect with werewolves around. Strict uniforms and ironclad rules. And surprisingly peaceful. The handful of werewolves hiding amongst the student body—mostly the gentle omegas and the odd delta—were model citizens. All these human students were completely clueless about our existence. Principal Richard knew who was human and who was a werewolf. And perhaps Mr. Gibson, given his potential bewitchment by a certain werewolf. But that remained unclear.

My hand moved on instinct, grabbing my schoolbag from the backseat. Feet already in motion, I threw the car door open and hopped out. “Looks like I’m going to school,” I said, offering Mum a half smile.

Heavy-eyed, she leaned across the seat and took my hand. “Okay,” she murmured, holding it gently. “Make sure you mind link me if you need me… for any reason.”

“Mum, I know.” I breathed, squeezing her hand. “I love you…”

“Oh, sweetheart, I love you too.” She whispered, releasing her hold.

I stood back and closed the door between us. As she drove away, I exhaled a long, shaky breath and held my head high. I can do this. I needed to survive the day. Just a few more hours and I could escape to the relative safety of my room, where I could fall apart in private. Where I could scream into my pillow and let the emotions consume me without being judged.

The weight of the schoolbag felt enormous as I turned toward the entrance, the polished cobblestones gleaming under the morning sun. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence I craved. Every step felt heavy, laden with the knowledge of my secret, my impending surgery, my potential death. But I had to fight. And that’s what I was going to do. First, I needed to find Jo and Raine.