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Chapter 1: The Pain of the Past

Aurora's Pov

—-

“I, Aurora, still remember the day my father, the Alpha of the Glow Pack, banished us from the pack. I was only eight years old, but the memory is etched in my mind like a scar. It was a full moon night, and I was playing with my dolls in the Pack house when I heard the shouting.

My parents were in the living room, their voices raised in anger. My father's deep growl and my mother's desperate pleas echoed through the halls, making me tremble with fear. I crept closer, my heart racing, and peeked through the doorway.

My mother was on her knees, begging my father, her eyes streaming with tears. My father stood over her, his face twisted in rage, his fists clenched at his sides. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of their anger and hurt.

“Get out!” my father yelled, his voice like a crack of thunder.

"You're a cheat, a liar, and a disgrace!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

My mother cowered, her hands raised in defense. "Please, Alpha, forgive me! I'll do anything to make it right!"

But my father just shook his head, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "You've broken our family, our trust, everything. I can't stay here with you anymore."

“Alpha, please listen to me. It's not what you think,” my mother pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears as she reached out to him, her hands shaking.

Oh… it's not what I think, huh?” My father's voice was laced with sarcasm as he threw a glass cup on the floor in anger, the shards scattering across the room. “How could you do this to me, to us?” My father's voice was like a knife, cutting through the air with precision and pain.

My father turned his back on her, his face twisted in disgust. “I should have known better than to trust you,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

My mother's face contorted in anguish as she screamed, “That's not fair, Alpha! You're not listening to me!” She beat her fists on the ground, her tears falling like rain as she wailed.

But my father didn't want to hear it. "No, April! I don't want to hear your excuses! You've broken our bond, our trust! You're no longer my mate, no longer my Luna!"

My mother tried to explain, her voice trembling with tears. "Please, Alpha, listen to me! It wasn't like that, I swear!"

The beta wolf, my mother's lover, cowered in the corner, his eyes fixed on the ground, unable to meet my father's gaze.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched my family fall apart, the pain and hurt of their betrayal burning within me like a fire.

“You've made your choice, April. Now live with the consequences."

With that he handed her a divorce agreement, and turned to leave, and that's when he saw me standing there, frozen in shock. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I thought he would come over and hug me, tell me everything would be okay. But instead, he just nodded curtly and said, "Goodbye, Aurora."

And with that, we were thrown out of the pack, leaving me with a mother who was shattered, a home that was broken, and a heart that was forever scarred.

I didn't understand why he didn't let me stay with him. I thought I was a good girl, a good daughter. But I guess I wasn't enough.

The memory of that day still haunts me, a constant reminder of the fragility of love and the pain of abandonment.

—-

After we were banished, my mother’s addiction to moonstone, a dangerous drug for werewolves consumed her. She was trying to fill the void left by my father’s rejection and banishment. She would often lash out at me, blaming me for his rejection. I became her punching bag, her emotional whipping post. She would scream at me, tell me I was the reason he left, that I was worthless and unlovable.

"You're the reason he left us, Aurora!" she would scream, her eyes wild and unfocused. "If only you were prettier, more charming, more lovable, he would have stayed!"

I tried to defend myself, to explain that I was just a child, that I didn't understand what was happening. But she wouldn't listen. She would just keep hitting me, slapping me, punching me until I was curled up in a ball on the floor, crying and begging for mercy.

I learned to hide, to escape, to survive. I would lock myself in my room, hiding under the bed or in the closet, waiting for her to pass out or leave the house. I would escape into books, into TV shows, into my own imagination, anywhere but the hellhole that was our home.

I became a master at avoiding her, at dodging her blows, at pretending I was okay when I was really dying inside. I learned to numb myself, to shut down, to disconnect from the pain and the fear.

But the scars remained, hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be triggered by the slightest reminder of that hellish time.

—-

Years passed, and I endured. My mother had a string of failed relationships, each one ending in heartbreak and tears. But when she met her fourth mate and introduced him as my new stepfather, I thought maybe, just maybe, this one would be different.

He was charming and kind, always making us laugh and feel loved. He helped with chores, attended school events, and even coached my sports teams. I thought he was the perfect father figure, and I began to trust him.

But I didn't know he had a dark side, a sinister intent lurking beneath his friendly facade. I didn't know that one night, after my mother had passed out from drinking too much, he would come into my room, his eyes filled with a hunger that made my skin crawl.

“Hey, Aurora."he whispered, his voice low and menacing, making me feel trapped and vulnerable. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he knew I was awake.

He moved closer, his breathing heavy, and I could feel his gaze on me like a cold breeze. I was frozen in fear, unable to move or speak.

"'It's cold tonight, and I just need a little warmth from you. Can you give that to me, sweety?' he asked, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

As he reached out a hand, I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew what he was really after, and it had nothing to do with warmth. I tried to pull away, but he grasped my arm, his grip like a vice. I was trapped, and I knew I had to think fast.

“I'm tired, please leave me alone." I lied, trying to sound convincing. But he just smiled, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intent. I knew I was in grave danger, and I had to find a way to escape.

Something inside me snapped. I found the strength to push him away, to scream for help, and to fight back.

“Help me!

Help me!!

Help me!!!"

I yelled at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing through the silent house. I pushed him away with all my might, and he stumbled backward, his eyes wide with surprise.

I didn't hesitate, I turned and ran downstairs as fast as I could, my heart racing with fear. I reached the living room and saw my mother passed out on the couch, oblivious to the horror that had just unfolded.

I shook her awake, tears streaming down my face.

“Mom, mom, wake up!

He tried to...he tried to…" I couldn't finish the sentence, but she looked at me with a confused, then a shocked expression. For a moment, she was sober, and she saw the truth in my eyes.

Before I could explain anything, my step father came running to explain himself.

“Dear, don't listen to her." his voice smooth and manipulative. "She's just being dramatic, making up stories again."

He turned to me, his eyes filled with a fake concern. "Aurora, sweetie, you know I would never hurt you. You're just upset because I was trying to comfort you, and you misinterpreted it."

My mother looked at me uncertainly, and I knew I had to speak up before she believed his lies.

"No, mom, that's not what happened," I said, my voice firm but shaking with emotion. "He tried to...he tried to touch me, and I fought him off."

I took a deep breath and continued, “He came into my room, and he...he tried to do something no one should ever do to a child."

My voice cracked, but I forced myself to keep going. “I pushed him away, and I screamed for help. You have to believe me, mom. You have to protect me from him."

My mother's expression changed from uncertainty to shock, and then to a mix of anger and sadness. She looked at my stepfather, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. But then, she turned back to me, and her voice was cold and hard.

“Aurora, you're lying. You're just trying to get attention."

I stood there frozen by her words, feeling like I had been punched in the gut. I couldn't believe she didn't believe me. I couldn't believe she was siding with him.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I realized that I was completely alone in this. I was alone in my fear, alone in my pain, and alone in my truth.

“You were trying to seduce him weren't you? You little slut!" My mother snapped, calling me names that cut deep into my soul.

I tried to speak, to defend myself, but no words came out of my mouth, only tears. I was shattered, broken, and betrayed. I couldn't believe my own mother, the person who was supposed to love and protect me, believed him over her own daughter.

She kicked me out of the house, leaving me with nothing but the clothes on my back and a shattered sense of self-worth. I stood on the porch, feeling the warm sun on my face but unable to absorb its warmth.

I was numb, my mind reeling from the cruelty of her words and the harsh reality of my situation. I had never felt so alone, so abandoned, and so utterly betrayed. The woman who was supposed to love and protect me had chosen to believe a monster over her own child.

I had painstakingly rebuilt my life, brick by brick, through sheer determination and hard work. Multiple part-time jobs and countless sleepless nights had become my norm as I put myself through school, driven by a fierce desire to escape the darkness of my past.

I thought I had finally broken free from the shackles of my childhood trauma. But then, like a ghost from my past, my mother reappeared at my doorstep. Her eyes gleamed with a false smile as she introduced me to her new husband, attempting to disguise her manipulative intentions.

“Aurora, Sweetie, I want you to meet your new stepfather.” her voice dripping with sweetness.

As she spoke, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands clasped together in a possessive gesture, her head titled up towards him with a sickeningly sweet smile. He, in turn wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a romantic embrace.

I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I watched them, their display of affection a stark reminder of the trauma I had endured at the hands of my mother’s previous mates. The memories I had worked so hard to suppress, the emotions I had struggled to contain, all came rushing to the surface.

“Not again!”

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