Chapter 2 -Dejected

1429 Words
Ava's POV Matthew was definitely a man of few words. As I sat in the passenger seat, the silence between us was palpable. The town seemed to grow more unfamiliar the deeper we went, with streets twisting and turning into areas I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t help but break the silence. "So... the new Alpha, what family is he from?" He gave me a brief side glance, the corner of his lips tugging upward, but that was the most reaction I got. "You can ask him that when you see him." "Are the four packs still united?" I tried again, hoping to get more out of him. This time, he chuckled lightly. "I see you were told stories. Yes. Still very united." He didn't look at me again after that, his focus solely on the road. The conversation hit a dead end, and I took it as a sign to stop asking questions. He clearly wasn't interested. Eventually, we arrived at a huge mansion, and I climbed out of the car, gripping my bag tightly as I followed him. The mansion was intimidating, and I couldn’t help but notice the curious stares from people around. Some pointed, others whispered. Their eyes seemed to pierce right through me. When we finally stood in front of the Alpha, I was surprised. He wasn’t what I had expected. He was young, maybe in his mid-thirties, with striking salt-and-pepper hair and cold blue eyes that seemed to see right into my soul. "Daughter of Goldington, huh?" His voice was cold and commanding. "Yes, Alpha," I replied, trying my best to keep my composure. "And what brings you here? Your ancestors have long left." The mention of my ancestors brought back the pain of my parents' deaths. My throat tightened, and I fought back the tears as I explained how they were brutally murdered. The Alpha listened with a frown etched on his face. "And you stood by and watched?" His words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Your wolf didn’t feel the need to change despite the danger?" I shook my head, struggling to explain myself, but I could feel the shame washing over me. A werewolf my age should have control over their wolf. It was an unspoken rule, and I couldn’t even meet his gaze as I stared at my fingers, willing myself not to cry. He stepped closer, his smirk unsettling. "You can’t control it, can you?" His taunting voice echoed in my ears. I felt Matthew’s eyes on me, disbelief clear in his expression. "You can’t freely transition?" His shock made me feel even smaller, and all I could do was shake my head, feeling utterly exposed. The Alpha hissed, making me flinch. "Quite the show," Matthew muttered under his breath. The Alpha raised his hand, silencing the whispers around us. He looked at me with a cunning smile. "Ava is the daughter of an ex-Alpha, and we will treat her with the respect she deserves, regardless of how little control she has over her wolf. Even though we all know that’s something to be ashamed of." His words were like venom, stinging my pride. I felt a wave of regret for coming to Lyconia at all. A lady was assigned to show me to a room, but her disdain was palpable. She led me to a small, dingy room at the back of the mansion. Dust and cobwebs covered everything, and the faint smell of decay lingered in the air. I was about to ask when it would be cleaned, but before I could say a word, she slammed the door, leaving me alone. I stood there, staring at the filthy room, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. Maybe they just needed time to adjust to me. Or maybe they judged me solely based on my lack of control over my wolf. The days dragged on. A week had passed, and I still hadn’t spoken to anyone. People avoided me as if I carried some contagious disease. I wandered outside the town one day and saw groups of women glaring at me, pointing and whispering. Their hatred was unmistakable, and I couldn’t understand why. What had I done? When I tried to befriend the people at the mansion, I was shunned. Some even spat in my direction. When I brought it up to the Alpha, he only shrugged, making it clear he had no interest in helping me. "I can’t force them to like you," he had said, as though my situation was inconsequential. I spotted Matthew one day, talking to a group of men. Relief washed over me. He had brought me here; maybe he could help explain why everyone despised me. Gathering my courage, I approached him. "Excuse me, Matthew?" I called out softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. He turned and dismissed the men before looking at me. "Yes, how may I help you?" "Well, I’ve noticed something strange since I got here. No one seems to like me. No one talks to me, and they all look at me with such hatred in their eyes." I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Did I do something wrong when I came here, or was it something my parents did?" Matthew cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. "Listen carefully, Ava. No, it’s not something your father did. Yes, it is you, and we all despise you." His words felt like a slap in the face. "We…?" My voice broke, the familiar bitter taste rising in my throat. "Yes, we," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "You watched your father, the ex-Alpha, get killed in cold blood, and you and your wolf could do nothing. You can’t even control your transition at twenty-two. And according to werewolf myths, anyone past eighteen who can’t control their wolf is considered evil. You must’ve done something horrible in a past life, and now, anyone who associates with you risks being tainted by your bad luck." I tried to protest, to tell him I wasn’t evil, but he cut me off. "Don’t. Who’s to say your bad luck didn’t destroy your parents?" With that, he turned away, rejoining the men, who were laughing loudly. Probably at my expense. I wandered aimlessly after that, Matthew’s words replaying in my mind. The memories of my parents’ deaths came flooding back, suffocating me. I dropped to my knees, gasping for breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Matthew’s words had shattered whatever hope I had left. Maybe they were right. Maybe I was cursed. I’d brought nothing but misery to Aunt Janet, who had to give up her job just to make sure I didn’t spiral. I forced myself to breathe, using the techniques my therapist had taught me. Slowly, my breath evened out, and I wiped my eyes with my sleeves. Determined to make a change, I headed for the forest, hoping I could finally summon my wolf. If I could control it, maybe I could change how everyone saw me. But as I entered the forest, a strange scent caught my attention. It was both familiar and foreign. Curious, I followed the scent until I saw him—a man, loading a gun with silver bullets. His back was to me, and I hid behind a tree, watching him. He was tall, muscular, with a dark buzz cut. His movements were smooth, his muscles rippling as he handled the bullets. When he turned around, my heart raced. His sharp jawline, clean-shaven face, and piercing black eyes made my pulse quicken. My body responded in ways I didn’t understand. 'What’s wrong with me?' I thought, confused by the sudden heat rising in me. It was as if my wolf was trying to break free, desperate to reach him. 'Relax. I know he’s handsome, but we can’t just—' "Is someone there?" he called out, his voice deep and commanding. He raised his gun and pointed it toward the trees, walking in my direction. My heart pounded in my chest as butterflies filled my stomach. 'Mate!' my wolf growled inside my head, and I froze in shock. 'Mate?' Could it really be? Excited, I stepped out from behind the tree with a sheepish smile, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. There were only a few steps between us now, and his gaze hardened as he frowned slightly. His gun still pointed at me, and he seemed more confused than anything, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
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