Beginnings
GISELLE
I saw what he did to her. I saw it all—how he beat her, how he hurt her, how she struggled against him.
Why didn’t she fight back? She was a shifter; he was human. She was stronger; he was not. Yet, she let him hit her, over and over again, for weeks, for months, for a year and a half.
Is this what love is? Is this what the so-called mate bond does to someone? If so, I want nothing to do with it.
That was eight years ago, on my tenth birthday. My momma had angered my dad somehow—though I had no idea how. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit her, and it wasn’t the first time she just stayed there and took it. But that day, I decided to never let my emotions show again.
From that moment, I went downhill. I became numb as I watched him hit her again and again. With each blow, my emotions died inside me.
My momma is better now. My father, her so-called mate, was killed by rogues. She found herself a second-chance mate and is all happy and smiley now, but the damage is done. She discovered my secret—the way I locked up all my emotions, as well as my scent. I even had a stash of scent blockers—a very potent kind.
I got into huge trouble for that.
Momma had to send me to the pack therapist.
“Giselle, I’d like you to tell me how you feel today,” the therapist would always start.
But I just shrugged and stayed silent until the time was up.
Then, she’d go to my momma and suggest sending me to an institution with stronger care facilities. My momma would burst into tears so loud that it made even my dormant wolf whine and flatten her ears in horror.
Then, the cycle would repeat. Over and over. But those who fail to learn from history… there’s nothing anyone can do for them.
After a while, my momma gave up trying to “fix” me. She focused on her new marriage and the little pup she just bore.
Monday morning, I took my scent blockers and rubbed them on all my scent glands. That should last me the week; they’re that powerful.
I’m already 18, and no, I’m not interested nor do i want or need a mate. I don’t feel anything anyway. I’m a beta wolf. My pheromones aren’t strong, and my wolf is dormant. So, there’s no need to worry.
I went downstairs and sat at the table for breakfast. I was starving.
“And the bat finally leaves her cave,” my stepbrother announced.
What an idiot.
“Jerry, be nice,” my mother chided.
“But it’s kind of true, Momma,” my second stepbrother, Jonah, added. “She never leaves her room, never smiles, never cries, always has that creepy face. Personally, I think she’s a vampire in disguise. What am I saying? Even vampires have more life than she does.”
“Giselle, you shouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you react,” my stepdad said, jabbing Jerry a bit. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Not everything has to be sunshine and rainbows.” He glanced at Jerry, who was the “rainbow” one. “Some things are much better in black and white,” he finished with a smile.
I gave him a nod of appreciation. My stepdad, Logan, always treated me like his own, even though he wasn’t my real dad. He never pushed me to change my personality or who i was.
I grabbed my bag, got up from the table, and left the house. Plugging in my earphones, I let the music drown out everything. As the haunting melody of “Middle of the Night” enveloped me, I felt a strange mix of comfort and longing. The lyrics whispered of hidden desires, things I buried deep within me.
“Just call my name, I’m yours to tame…” I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining a life where I felt free, where emotions flowed through me like a river instead of being dammed up behind walls. I pictured myself running with the pack, the wind in my fur, unrestrained and wild. But that felt so far from my reality.
“In the middle of the night, I crave your taste…” Those words resonated with my suppressed emotions, stirring a longing for connection I didn’t know how to embrace. I wanted to crave, to feel—anything. Instead, I remained locked in my own silence, watching life pass me by.
The world around me blurred as I walked, the music pulsing through my veins. “These burning flames, these crashing waves…” I envisioned waves crashing over me, washing away the pain and fear, making room for something new—something vibrant and alive.
But instead, I was trapped in a cycle of numbness. My wolf rarely stirred, and I often wondered if it was my fault for shutting everything out. “I fill you up, drink from my cup…” I wanted to be filled, to be whole, but all I could do was look in from the outside, yearning for what felt just out of reach.
As I kept walking while staring at the cloud ahead of me, the fresh air hit me, mingling with the scent blockers I had applied. I wished I could smell the earth, the trees, the pack—but I remained concealed, a ghost in my own life. “Come, lay me down…” The song’s call felt like an invitation to step into a world I couldn’t access, to embrace the warmth of connection.
But fear held me back. The thought of finding a mate, of opening myself up to the possibility of love, made my chest tighten. I didn’t want to be like my mother. I didn’t want to be hurt. I sighed, letting the music cradle me, wishing I could be wide awake in a dream where I was more than just a shadow.
“Because you know this sound…” I repeated those words silently, clinging to the hope that one day, I might find the strength to call out my own name and break free from the chains of my past and the world i had created from it. I walked past a giggling pack member overhearing her talk about her new mate, My face scrunched up in mangled discomfort, why is it always this same topic.
People’s actions confuses me , especially in this pack, it makes my head spin, the way they’d always flaunt their wolf’s size, strength, valor, power and mate like it is some kind of contest, I also want my wolf to do more than just occasional grunts and whimpers. I want to shift. But my momma told me that could only happen with my mate. That it is lock up by my mate’s extreme love for me, to always keep me safe, if you asked me, i’d say that is just a whole load of crap to make me feel better. So, I guess I should just start identifying as human from now on.
I’ve always imagined living life as a human—no stress, no worries, no expectations. You can do whatever you want.
I sighed as I kept walking, letting the rest of the music consume me.
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Picture reference of Giselle above
I don’t own this picture
They are courtesy of @desiree.daydreams on instagram, you can check her out she’s really amazing
