Mistaken Surrogate for the ruthless Lycan king

CHAPTER 001 Ivory’s POV: My heartbeat drummed inside of me, and even that was faint. Doctors and nurses strolled by me, yelling out at each other, and the screeching of hospital beds came to me as if from far away; hollow. Time was at a standstill; every movement around me was slowed down, each second pulsing with unbearable weight. I could barely move, my eyes locked on the blinking red emergency sign overhead as it flashed repeatedly, too scared to blink as I chewed on my fingers anxiously, my nerves getting the best of me. I couldn't wait any longer, but there was nothing I could do. My mind barely registered the single tear that rolled down the side of my cheeks. Green. It turned green. I stood frozen, the fear washing away as relief flooded through me. The doctor walked out of the emergency room and towards me as my breath hitched, waiting for the news. “He’s alright; you can calm down now.” I released the breath I was holding, grabbing his arm for support as my legs felt like noodles. “Are you okay? Do you need a check-up yourself?” The doctor panicked while enquiring. I shook my head, signifying that I was more than alright. That the tears on my face were ones of joy. “He’s okay; he's okay,” I chanted as though I didn't believe him when he had stated the first time. “Yes, your brother is… Stable, but this is only temporary. His condition worsens by the day, and if we don't perform the needed surgery soon, I'm afraid he won’t be able to come out of his next episode.” Of all the times I wished my brother was just like me, where he didn't have to suffer every day like the measly humans. Doctor Griffin further informed me of the fees I needed to uphold before the proper treatment was carried out: “We have prolonged this long enough, Miss Ivory.” “Yes, I know, and I promise I will get the money; just please give me more time.” “There's nothing more we can do; his time is running out, and so is yours,” he muttered the last part softly before excusing himself. I stood in the hallway, my tears streaming like a waterfall, before I wiped them away, walking into my brother's room where he rested with his eyes closed. Matteo lay in bed, skin white as a sheet; if it weren't for the continuous beeping of the heart monitor, I would have mistaken him for a dead child already. I sat on the stool close to his bed and tried my best not to shed a tear. My brother has been in this condition ever since our parents died, and we didn't have the money to continue his treatment. We’ve been struggling ever since. The feeling of regret settled within me. How I wished he didn't have to go through this much pain! “I'm sorry you have to go through this,’ I apologized deeply, even though I wasn't sure if he could hear me. “But it will all be over soon; you’ll be fine again,” I promised for his sake; however, I was losing hope by the second. Time flew by, and Matteo still hadn't woken up, and I realized that when he did, he would want something to eat. I, too, as well. My stomach chose that moment to growl. I decided to use the opportunity to grab a change of clothes myself. Although I didn't want to leave him alone, he was in the hospital with safe hands. On my way home, which I hadn't stayed in the past few days as we had always been in the hospital, the fresh breeze devoid of the usual hospital stench filled my nostrils, and the wind fluttered through my black hair. I couldn't help but close my eyes for a few seconds to cherish this moment, knowing it won't last long. Walking all the way to our apartment, which was a complex. Luckily, the elevators still worked. It was a run-down place that had lost its vigor over the years. I was tired; my eyes could barely stay open as I had been up for the past two nights. Finally made it to my unit, and I frowned, taking careful steps with caution as my doors were opened lightly, the locks broken off their hinges. My mind was in a whirlwind as the thought of thieves gaining entry into our home echoed in my mind. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I placed a trembling hand on the door and pushed it open. A loud crash made me jerk back in fear, my heart racing as another followed after. Pushing the door fully open now, my apartment was in shambles, clothes spewed everywhere, broken vases and glassware; it had been ransacked and turned upside down. “What the hell are you doing? Stop!” One of the brute men held the urn that contained my mother's ashes in his hands, and I sprang forward to stop him, but it was too late. “Who the hell are you people, and what the hell do you want?” I questioned in rage, yelling at the top of my lungs as I glared at all four of them. That’s when something caught my eye. The tattoo of a skull on his wrist. I knew exactly who they were. My heart trembled in fear. They were the gang my parents had borrowed a large amount of money from before they had died, just for Matteo's hospital bills. I stumbled backward, eyes wide in fear. “Please, I—I promise I will get your money back for you; I just need more time…” I screamed as another vase smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces. The tears streamed down as I doubled over on the floor with my hands pressed against my ears. Fear coursing through me. “You don't have any more time left, lady. The boss wants his money, and he wants it now,” the man growled, his eyes glinting dangerously. “If we have to come back here, it wouldn't be really pleasant for you.” With that, they exited my apartment. I stood up, wiped the stray tear from my face, and stared blankly at the damage they had done. I had barely enough money to fix all of these. My thoughts were scattered as the door opened. I turned, expecting to see the group of men again but paused when the landlord’s face came forth. I couldn't help but sigh, "What now?” whispering under my breath. My eyes stayed glued to the floor—to the ashes that had once been my mother, scattered across the carpet like dust that no one cared to clean. Beside them, the broken frame lay face down, the glass shattered, and the photo of us cracked right through the middle like we were never whole, to begin with. "What the hell is this, Ivory?" Mr Ballard's voice thundered through the apartment. “You haven’t paid rent in four months, and now you’ve got gang members stomping around my building like it’s a damn trap house?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. He took a few angry steps into the room, his shoes crunching over bits of broken glass. “This is the last straw. I’ve been patient—more than patient. I gave you time. But not anymore. I want you out of here. Out, Ivory. By the end of the week. He scoffed, almost disgusted. “I don’t care where you go. But you’re not staying here. You’ve run out of time.” Then he turned and stormed off, muttering under his breath, ‘Damn kids and their drama.’ Time. One thing I don't seem to have. My fist clenched beside me as I gritted my teeth, wondering why it had to be this way. Why did we have to suffer? Everyone else had normal lives, yet we had to struggle each day for the food we had to eat. It hurt so bad that I wished it would stop. I wished it would all end. I wanted it to end. I didn’t know when I stood at the edge of the roof, gazing down at the busy cars and watching as the world moved, leaving us behind. This was it. The world had no mercy for people like us. Then why live? Why not end it all? The wind caressed my hair, gently kissing my skin as it whispered sweet nothings into my ear and also one final word: fall.