The Key to the Alpha's heart

The Blood Bullet.

Mistral finished her last lesson in the theater department at the university, gathering all her belongings in her luxurious bag. She then stood in place, walking with elegant steps, gracefully moving her captivating body, heading towards the outer gate of this luxurious, elegant, and spacious university complex. She placed her hat back on her head, took a deep breath, and opened the door, raising her hand due to the powerful camera flashes that almost blinded her. How she hated journalists. Oh, why doesn't a monster come and annihilate them from the entire world—the mosquitoes, as she calls them—present everywhere, just like mosquitoes, not leaving a person until they su.ck their fu.cking blood. She walked silently, lowering her gaze, while they approached, directing loudspeakers that carried the names of all the channels and newspapers in Cuba and Havana specifically, bombarding her with numerous questions.

“Miss Mistral, when is your official wedding date with actor Rohan?"

"Miss Mistral, how were the behind-the-scenes of your series 'The Forbidden Love'?"

"What's your response to rumors of your separation from your fiancé, actor Rohan?"

Mistral clenched her teeth forcefully, continuing her walk calmly, avoiding their freaking curses before exploding in their faces like a bomb with everything she held inside. "Just stay silent, Mistral. Continue your walk, and let each of them go and f***k themselves." She reached her light blue car, her favorite color, surrounded by her guards with massive green bodies. They were Ogres, very strong, giving her space to climb inside. Without waiting for a second, she sped away from them, guards following her in another black car. Driving with trembling hands due to anger was challenging, yet she controlled herself, looking at the road with eyes filled with tears. Tears she had always suppressed. The world asked about her, and HER MOTHER didn't respond. The world wished to sit with her for just an hour, and she wished to see her mother for just a second—a second from her shitty life.

She stopped her car, parked it on the side of the road, resting her forehead on the steering wheel, struggling not to let those tears fall in vain. She longed for her, wanting nothing from all this but to embrace her so tightly that she would disappear within her ribs. She felt sorrow, deep regret digging inside.

The muscle of her heart, like an engraving on stone. Why? That was the question that always haunted her. Why did her mother leave her alone, as if she wasn't her flesh and blood? What was her fault to abandon her? She didn't even give her a name, didn't acknowledge her at least. What sin did she commit, and if there was a sin, is there a reason to be harsh on her little one? She sacrificed a piece of her soul, her darling, to another family while she was only one hour old. She didn't even breastfeed her. She didn't even embrace her. She just handed her to another woman to raise and left. For years, she didn't ask, didn't contact her, not even knowing she was her daughter until MRS. ELARIS, her real mother, decided the time was right and came to her at the age of seven to tell her that she was her mother.

It was the most extraordinary encounter between a seven-year-old girl and her real mother. Oh boy, the meeting happened beyond this world. She returned from school to find her family, who had raised her, lying dead on the ground. Meanwhile, her mother sat on a couch, holding a glass of wine, crossing her legs, uttering just one word that day: "Hello, Mistrallina, I am your real mother.”

Didn't I tell you the meeting was mythical? The most beautiful meeting one's mind could imagine. “Why did you do that?” She asked her mother after confirming it was her real mother. The answer was simple. This family's role had ended. The Fairies parents who raised her, thinking she was their only child. Now it was her turn to live alone after her real mother killed them without revealing the reason. Forget all that; there's a crucial question. Does Mistral harbor resentment towards her mother? Does she hate her? Does she want to confront her? Blame her for abandoning her and killing the family she loved? The answer: A big NO. Contrary to appearances, she loves her.

Mistral wants her mother and only desires to see her because she knows her mother LOVES her. Her mother doesn't hate her as it may seem at first glance; on the contrary, her mother loved her a lot. She feared for her from the consequences of her misdeeds in that freaking and ugly field. Therefore, for the thousandth time, no, she does NOT hate her, and she will not hate her even if the world's hatred converges on that.

Wiping her tears, Mistral closed her eyes, wanting to remember her mother's face. A year had passed since their last meeting. She visits once a year, spending an hour together, then leaves, not to be seen again until the next year.

Small as Mistral is, she's not a child; she can affirm her mother engages in perilous activities. Her mother didn't acknowledge her to keep her safe. Who would want to kill her because of her mother's deeds? Why let her study MAGIC and supernatural beings’ bodies secretly?

The matter is complicated, but as a summary of her life, she lived a DUAL existence. A dazzling life filled with success and fame, a famous actress studying at the largest acting universities in Havana—arrogant, tough, and prideful. An orphan who lost her Fairies parents at the age of seven, currently engaged to a famous actor. On the other side, she was a lonely girl studying magic and the creation of supernatural beings in secret, as if on a mission to save supernatural creatures. Suffering from familial coldness, her mother distant, and an attractive fiancé chosen by her mother, whom she neither liked nor wanted to love. The essence of the matter: a controlled life and a completely submissive life.

She turned her back, gazing at the car ceiling absentmindedly, asking herself the same question she had whispered countless times before, almost like a murmur: “Won't you stop acting, even when you're alone, Mistrallina?”

She smiled sarcastically, her posture adjusting as she started her car again. Yes, it was acting, and please believe this lie because it tended to be believable. She hated being weak, the only girl who longed for her mother's love. Every tear that fell from her eyes was just acting. Every shiver of sadness and pain in her chest was considered an effect of the roles she portrayed. Damn it, just damn it.

After a period of driving, she stopped her car in front of a massive supermarket near her residence. She parked her car in the external garage, then descended with an elegant figure that appeared perfect, thanks to the high heels concealing her below-average height. She looked back at her dog, Lola, who wanted to accompany her. She smiled, shaking her head, and said, “No, baby, you'll stay here. I'll just buy my favorite juice and your food, then I'll be back. Agreed?”

Her smile widened, and while looking at her dog, she thought, "Clever creatures. They understand more about life than many species I've encountered in my fucken life." She cursed the donkey who claimed that animals don't understand. He was the ass-fool who knew nothing about life. These creatures' minds were broader than many she had seen in her freaking life.

She closed the car door, looking at Lola, who was wagging her head. Then she walked confidently into the supermarket. Her fragrance preceded her and followed her with elegance. Once inside, she moved her head, searching for the juice fridge. She intended to buy her special juice, with her sunglasses and the large hat covering a significant part of her face just so no one recognized her. She hated being famous to that extent.

She searched for a while until she found it. A genuine smile appeared as she realized the place was empty, and the chance of being stopped for a picture was minimal. Finally, her luck smiled at one thing. She approached the fridge, extending her hand to open it. However, that HAND, which gripped the fridge door with great force to open it, was interrupted by a giant hand with tattoos, mostly skulls and English words. And let me tell you the tattoos’ meanings; deadly and frightening.

Mistral raised her gaze to the man's face to find a lethal combination of handsomeness. Not handsome in the natural sense, but handsome with great cruelty to the heart of a virgin like her. She wanted, with all her heart, to see the color of his eyes, but she couldn't because of his sunglasses. She looked at him again and saw him taking out a bottle of tequila and whiskey. Wow, two strong types indeed. He just took the bottles and left, leaving her standing there, still holding the fridge door. She gazed at his back and his manly walk.

She took a breath to grab her juice box, then headed towards the cashier to pay for the juice and her dog's food, only to find that man ahead of her. She observed him again from head to toe. His hair was very soft, in a way that made her want to run her fingers through it, causing it to flow smoothly. Despite his cold expression, his features screamed the curses of the world. His face literally suffocated from the intensity of his striking handsomeness, evident even to the blind. She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on his dark lips. Despite that, she felt very hungry to them.

She didn't leave any inch of him unchecked, and for some strange reason, she felt like he COULD SEE HER, even though he wore sunglasses and his gaze was directed towards the cashier. It was as if he was staring at her, devouring her from her hair to her shoes. Unconsciously, she found her mind swimming with him. Lost in her thoughts, she wondered where she was or what she was doing. She focused on the prominent Adam's apple in his massive, tattoo-covered neck. It moved lethally slow, each time swallowing with coolness. She wouldn't have stopped him if not for the ringing of his phone, making him retreat to answer the call.

What just happened, for Moon's sake? Was she admiring a man just a moment ago, or what? More importantly, that man was a Werewolf. His distinct scent, easily distinguishable as that of Werewolves among millions of species, had reached her. Was she really admiring a Werewolf, the species she despised the most in her life? She tried to dismiss her thoughts as much as possible, throwing her gaze at him for the last time. Despite his coldness, he spoke, surrounded by a frightening aura as if he were a devil himself.

She snapped out of her trance when the cashier asked her to pay the bill, which she did before leaving. She took her car and headed to the residential resort where she lived. And let me tell you, her apartment was highly confidential. No one knew anything about her to avoid media and fan intrusion. She parked her car, got out, and headed for the elevator.

Waiting a bit, she saw one of the neighbors passing by. She didn't know anyone here, as no one knew each other. Most of the owners in this building were businessmen and bourgeois figures, much like herself. She turned to the elevator, intending to press the button for her floor on the fourteenth, but was interrupted by the entrance of that huge, intriguing Werewolf again. She looked at him, frozen in place, as he pressed the button for his floor, standing beside her with dignity and steadiness.

Oh, a secret ADMIRER, huh? Great. He didn't need to go through all this drama to get her autograph. If he had asked for it in the supermarket in the first place, she would have gladly given it. Why bother chasing after her? Damn. She shook her head with pride, chin held high as she extended her hand to him, looking at the door with arrogance. Her hand remained suspended, waiting for him to give her her picture to sign. However, he ignored her extended hand, staring at the door with coldness. What's up with this huge dogie? She sighed, shaking her hand in front of him. In a tone full of arrogance and pride, she added, “Come on, what are you waiting for? Give me the picture to sign it.”

This made him turn his head slightly, and she knew he was looking at her, even though she couldn't see his eyes because of the sunglasses. He glanced at her for a second, then tilted his head a little to his right shoulder, giving a terrifying look for a moment. He then put something in her hand just as the door opened. After he exited, leaving her standing there, she blinked for a few moments. She took off her glasses, looking at her hand where he had placed something. Opening her mouth and eyes in shock, she muttered under her breath, “f***k me.” Seeing the BLOOD BULLET he had put in her hand between her palm. Oh Moon! f***k me to the seventh hell.

She couldn't move, walk, or even breathe for a second or more. Every cell in her body froze because of that bullet, which positioned itself in the middle of her hand, making her swallow hard, unable to believe it was a real bullet. Surely, this was a fake blood bullet, Mistral Hawk. Damn it, control yourself.

She quickly gathered herself to exit the elevator, following him as he stood in front of the apartment opposite hers. She spoke, removing her hat, “You, sir, wha…” She stopped talking as she saw him slap the door of his apartment in her face with coldness and indifference.

Just as if it were an ordinary thing, he slapped the door in her face. She, Mistral Hawk, with all her flesh and charm that makes men kneel under her heel to have a picture with her, and this Werewolf comes with his ugly scent, closing the door in her face. The shock was enormous for her. She felt anger and great anger infiltrating her bones, and she didn't respond to anything in that moment, like breaking the door and tearing his face. Yet, she wasn't the one who did these movements. After all, she's a classy woman with a high status, so she'll be more refined than him. She just approached with her body to place the blood bullet in front of his apartment door, raising her head again to look at the apartment’s number...

Apartment 666. She had always seen this number every time she stood in front of her apartment door. But for the first time, something strong inside her told her she would never forget that number after this day..