PROLOGUE: HER NAME WAS AYDAE
LAMARCUS POV
“Ahh!” he grunts painfully. “At this rate, you will kill me here before my time, Lamarc.” Alvaro, my best friend says with panting breaths from the floor, his favourite training twin swords beside him. I chuckle softly and stretch my arm to help him up. We have been training for the past three hours.
“How you combine strength with stamina will never cease to amaze me, woo!” He gulps the content of the water bottle down his throat. “I think at this point, I am no longer worthy of being your sparing partner. You are far superior, dammit.” We both laugh.
“That's probably the only advantage of being without a mate. I don't get drained of stamina every night,” I laugh while drying my skin with my workout towel.
“Ha.Ha.Ha. Very funny,” he mocks. “Says the one who wakes up with a different girl…or girls every morning.”
“Sometimes, I just spectate,” I say with a wide grin which makes him pause mid-drink and look at me wildly, then he smiles and faces the hanged TV at the other end of the room.
“What Helen said might be true. You are one weird, cold motherfucker, incapable of love. And you will probably be the end of me.” He wipes the sweat off his face with his towel.
I smile back at him. Maybe she's right. I am cold and I can be a motherfucker, but incapable of love?
“And I am sure you share the same notion with her, right?” I smile, but Alvaro knows me. We have been together for a long time and he knows when I am masking my real emotions with a smile. He turns and looks at me.
“I can't say I know you fully well brother, but I know you well enough to not interfere with your coping mechanisms. All I can say is this.” He pauses. “It's been a long time since it happened. Your father has moved on, he's not blaming you. Only you feel that you haven't been forgiven or that you are responsible for what happened. You are your own jailer, my brother. Stop punishing yourself and let yourself love again.” He taps me lightly on the shoulder, smiles and walks away. I raise a brow. Bastard, I chuckle. He knows I don't like being touched by the shoulder.
“Where's this Goddamn TV remote? I need to listen to this news, it seems tragic,” he mutters to himself.
I continue packing my stuff back into my gym bag. Alvaro loves his news, I chuckle.
“Ah ha! Found you.” He is overjoyed. The volume of the TV increases. I continue packing up, paying no attention.
“... a swift investigation is currently underway, but the prime suspect in the murder of Alpha Roosevelt Mikhail and his son, Stanley Mikhail, is Aydae…”
Aydae? My body freezes. I know that name. I have heard it somewhere. I spin around to face the TV.
“Did they just call the name, Aydae?” I ask Alvaro.
“Yeah. Weird name, right? I mean who bears Aydae in this modern age.” He answers absentmindedly, his attention is on the TV.
I have seen her before, I didn't see her face clearly, but the name has always been lost somewhere in my memory. I always heard that name before. It was a long time ago.
I remember—
“I know that name,” I blurt out to no one in particular.
“Huh?” Alvaro spins around and shoots me a questioning look.
“Where? That pack is miles away from ours, and I am sure I know every she wolf you have slept with and none bears the name, Aydae.”
“Remember the recurring nightmare I told you I used to have many years ago after I lost her?”
“Yeah. The one where a female stabs you to death, but you can't see the face or remember the name even though you were told it every single time in the nightmare?"
“Yes, that one,” I whisper. “I remember the name now.”
His brows furrow deeper.
“Aydae is her name. My supposed nemesis.”
