Chapter 1
~URIEL~
My body trembled with fright. My heart pounded like the march of thousands of soldiers.
The noise from the bushes did not stop. It intensified.
Moments ago, I had taken my bath, but my body was drenched with sweat. Sweat that was manifested from the fear within my mind.
The woods was my sanctuary. My place of peace and harmony. But the noise that came from the hedges made it not so. The wind howled, and the coldness embraced my skin, making me regret the decision to not take my cloak for warmth. I looked to my left and right, thinking of a route of escape. I did not know where my unknown assailant would strike, even if I knew where the noise was coming from.
Before I could think of my next action, the culprit jumped out, and I released a startled cry that shattered the silence of the woods. My moment of terror vanished when I saw what had jumped out.
It was a red fox.
“Mr. Red!” I cried, a mixture of mild annoyance and relief filling my mind as I put my hands to my hips.
The little red creature gazed up at me, pure innocence filling its yet mischievous eyes.
“Now, that was not very nice.” I wagged a finger. “You frightened me half to death.”
The little canine strutted towards me and rubbed its head against my calves, seemingly as a form of apology. All signs of anger vanished from me, and I bent down to touch its little head.
Mr. Red was a fox, which I found in the woods a few years ago. It was the fondest memory of a rather sad day. It was my birthday, and I was to celebrate sixteen years on earth.
But like every other birthday, I celebrated alone.
No one remembered, except me.
No one cared.
Not my father. Not my stepmother. Not my stepsister. It was like a normal day to them. I did not fret, though. I had become accustomed to it.
It was on that very night in the woods I found the poor creature who was just orphaned due to the doings of a hunter. I nursed the little one back to health, and we became the best of friends.
I sat at the base of the oak tree, and Mr. Red gazed at me. He pushed his head to the side and looked at a tree beside us. It ran towards it and jumped, placing its front paws against the bark and landing brilliantly on all fours.
At first filled with awe, I clapped my hands.
“Amazing!” I cried in amazement. “That was a fine movement, little one. Where did you imagine such?”
The red fox lowered its head as if giving me a reply and did the same movement several times. Each time it did, each time I clapped. I loved the little creature like the sibling I never had. He never failed to put a ray of joy into my dark life. These were one of the times in my life I could smile.
Mr. Red stopped dancing. I stopped clapping. We heard footsteps approach towards us. Mr. Red, having the keener sense of smell between us, hissed at the direction from where it came, its tail stiffening. Before I could speak, he disappeared into the bushes from where he came out from earlier.
The footsteps became louder, and then the owner emerged from the opposite side of the woods. I sighed and stood up, gazing into the eyes of my younger stepsister.
Yelena.
A beautiful damsel with the grace of a gazelle and the beauty of a royal garden. Born of the union between my father and his new wife, Rhonda, she was a mirror image of the latter. Golden hair like the sun, smooth rosy cheeks, and eyes as grey as the dark clouds. Unfortunately, her character was a complete opposite of her beauty. A spoilt brat as she was, she was my father’s perfect child. The epitome of what a werewolf was supposed to be. Father never ceased to remind me every time I did something he saw was not worthy in his eyes. Unlike her, I was a werewolf without abilities. An abomination born from a lycan father and a human mother. A mother who I had never met.
“There you are.” Yelena gazed at me from head to toe with utmost disdain. “It is no surprise I would find you here. Father asks of your presence. You are needed in the kitchen.”
I could not scold her for the manner in which she spoke to me. It would be seen as a taboo and get me into trouble.
“At once.” I dusted my garment with my hands and walked past her.
“You might want to make haste.” I heard the amusement in her voice behind me. “He seemed furious when he sent me to fetch you.”
“When is he not?” I muttered under my breath.
Despite the fact that I was on the forefront during our painfully silent walk back home, Yelena had reached the house before me. I was not amazed, nor was I amused. Speed was not my forte.
Father sat by the table with a large brass mug, which my stepmother filled with ale. His dark grey eyes darkened with rage as soon as they settled on me.
“Uriel,” his deep voice sent a chill to my spine. “It will soon be time that I stop you from going to that woods. It is making you forget your duties in the kitchen.”
Rhonda shook her head, reflecting my disdain towards her. She gazed at me like I was a speck of dirt on her beautiful white linen. I avoided her gaze and looked at my father.
“I’m sorry, Father.” I bowed my head. “Such a mistake will not repeat itself again.”
“Not that it will matter anyway,” he scoffed to my confusion. “Get to your duties. We are starving.”
I dare not remind him of the fact that his wife also knew how to cook. Silently, I nodded and approached the stove. I pulled out a wooden bowl from the drawer beneath and put in the potatoes for washing.
“How’s the ale, my dear?” I heard Rhonda speak to my father.
“The finest.” Father released a rare chuckle. “Some day, I will have to pay a visit to your people and thank them in person.”
He laughed again. Rhonda and Yelena followed suite. I pulled out a knife and began peeling the potatoes. They were the perfect family. I did not belong. I wondered why the moon goddess allowed me to endure this suffering and often looked forward to the day she would put me out of it.
I had picked up the last potato for peeling when my father cleared his throat behind me.
“That reminds me, Uriel.”
I turned around to gaze at him.
“Salvatore has been frequenting me of late. You remember him, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, I do.” I slowly nodded.
Salvatore was my father’s longtime friend. I had seen him quite a lot when I was a little girl. His visits depreciated after my father remarried and Yelena was born.
I gazed intently at my father, wondering why he asked me such. His next words would put a dagger through my heart.
“Salvatore has taken interest in you. He wants your hand in marriage.”
I dropped the potato and knife. I could feel my face go white with sheer horror. Ignorant of my apparent state, Rhonda clapped her hands in excitement.
“That is wonderful!” she cried. “He is a very affluent man and would take care of Uriel well.”
“Indeed.” Father smiled and then gazed at me. “What do you say, Uriel? Do you fancy him?”
For the first time in my life, I found a voice.
“No!” I cried. “I can’t marry him, Father. He is your friend and old enough to be my father!”
A blanket of silence wrapped around the kitchen. They looked at me like they could not believe I spoke.
“Uriel,” Father’s voice was dangerously calm. “Do you know what you are saying? You dare refuse the interest of a great man. Do you realize what you are throwing away? The opportunity of a better life. A great future for you.”
“Father, I mean no disrespect,” I said, “but it is everything that stands against nature. Werewolves are bonded together by the moon goddess. Having this kind of union with your friend will go against her will.”
“Werewolf?” Father guffawed in mirthless fashion, nearly spilling his drink. “You still think of yourself as such?”
He shook his head. “Uriel, ever since you were born, you have never shown me you deserved to be called a werewolf. Even Yelena showed it after a year of her being born.”
I saw Yelena beam with pride and Rhonda place a loving hand on her shoulder. I felt the tears sting my eyes, wishing I had what she did. Not just her abilities, but the love and pride of a mother.
“Father—” I turned towards him with a final attempt to plead my case.
“This is not up for any further argument.” He raised a thick hand up. “Salvatore will be here tomorrow. You must prepare and make yourself favorable in his eyes.”
I fell silent. The weight of his words wore me down.
“Continue with the cooking.” He pointed to the stove.
“Yes, Father.” I bowed and resumed my work.
As the rest of the family engaged in discussion and laughter, no one saw the tears that spilled out of my eyes.
