Introduction
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Chapter 1
Avery's POV
I sat by a corner in my room squeezing my stomach in pain and watching myself bleed. My throat felt dry, my eyes felt like they were burning and my chest ached. My vision was blurred like it always was every time I got beaten by my dad. I couldn't help but wonder the worst thing that could happen if I killed the man.
I spat out the blood in my mouth, feeling irritated by the feeling of dried blood on my skin. Letting out a low sigh as soon as my mouth was free. I remained in a position, watching most of my injuries heal in seconds, smiling to myself. I took pride in my speedy healing.
I attempted moving, groaning at the sound of my cracking bones. "He didn't hold back today,", I groaned to myself, using the desk next to me as support to stand up. "What an ass.", I whispered, biting my lower lip in annoyance and waiting impatiently for myself to fully heal.
This was a daily routine. My 'dad' loved beating me up every morning. My pain was pleasure to him. I never did anything wrong to him. He just started beating me up all of a sudden after my mom died. I try not to think too deep about his reasons, I always end up stranded when I do.
I guess I'm getting used to the pain... That's a good thing... Right?
I rushed to the bathroom, taking off my clothes and dumping them in the laundry bag then hopping into the shower when I was sure my body was ready.
I couldn't hold back the moan in my throat when I felt warm water slide through my back. I always found baths divine.
I didn't take long in the shower today. I'm already late.
I dressed up, grabbing all I needed for school. I chuckled to myself, thinking about the difference between my life in school and at home. At school, Avery's the bad ass bully. A bitch that doesn't give a fuck about anything. Popular shit with a Beta's son for a best friend, my life's perfect over there. But at home, Avery's the wimp that can do nothing but watch her dad hit her. She can't even gather enough courage to tell him to stop. All I do is cry in private about how much I miss my mom. I'm pathetic... Still a baby with a shallow mind.
You can say it's cause of my shallow mind that I'm such a bully.
The only reason I bully is because it's almost satisfying. I make it my duty to depress people just because I'm broken; because I feel they have too much and I have too little. Its so unfair. There's never a second I don't feel deprived.
They haven't gone through what I go through and they never will but I'll have to carry this shitty burden I call a dad till he dies and he doesn't look like he's planning on dying anytime soon.
I feel that bullying is the only way of making things fair on me.
I see everybody else as better than me and I low key respect them but my jealousy will never let me show it. Never ever. So petty. I disgust myself but what the hell? You learn to live with it.
Life has always been unfair to me, taking someone I loved so much and suddenly turning my dad into a monster. Thinking about it hurt more than any beating I've gotten from my dad.
"Maybe things would've been better if dad died instead of you." I whispered, glancing at a picture of mom that laid on the desk next to the door. Seeing her picture always reminded me of life before her death. That's a life I should forget. Remembering the paradise you had while drowning in mystery is an indescribable pain but then I can't bring myself to hide that picture or control the urge to look at it. I loved my mom so much.
My dad treats me like his punching bag
He's crazy. He beats me everyday for no reason at all. 'For the fun of it' he says. He's so heartless, he beats me mercilessly, leaving me with my blood messing the floor and of course I always clean it up but I've got no scar.
I heal within seconds and no one's explained why. Of course I'm a werewolf. It's meant to be normal healing, but not when it's this fast.
I keep my questions to myself most times. I can't let people know about how unfortunate I am. Last thing I want is pity. If I have questions or I can't keep my thoughts to myself, I find myself running to Mr. Arthur and Dylan. My best friend and his dad. My second family. They mean the world to me. I can't even imagine life without them. I'd have probably committed suicide or something.
Dylan.... He can be a hand full but that's not a reason not to love him.
After making sure I had everywhere cleaned up, I rushed out, heading to Dylan's house
I didn't bother trying to look fashionable today so I threw on a big grey shirt and blue jeans with matching snickers. It didn't look bad on me though.
The journey to Dylan's house wasn't too long, but it was exhausting. I was still tired after today's beating. I stood by the his house's door, sighing a bit before knocking, hoping I didn't leave any open hints that I was stressed. The door opened immediately like it was waiting for a knock. Mr. Arthur stood behind it, grinning as soon as he saw me. I forced a smile, hoping he wouldn't ask about my morning; wasn't surprised when he pulled me in for a hug. That's our way of greeting. It has its way of calming me down
Mr. Arthur takes me as his daughter
And I take him as my dad. He's done so much for me and never asked for anything. He's so nice, it's creepy. He even pays me visits most times, though he is usually busy with his beta work.
That was years ago when we were still kids.
I still don't know why he's so connected to me.
At the beginning of everything Dylan hated me because he thought I was stealing his dad and I hated him because I felt he was too self centered
"How are you?" Mr. Arthur asked, slowly breaking the hug.
"I'm good. Thanks for asking" I thanked him. "Where's Dylan?" I peeped into the house, impatiently. I needed to head to school and he's the one driving.
"He's in his room. He just finished exercising. He's not ready for school. I could drop you off if you'd like." he suggested, moving aside with a small smile on his face, inviting me to come in.
I sighed, hearing his reply. It was stupid of me to expect my idiot best friend to be ready on time for once "No... No need. I don't mind waiting for him." I said, walking in and heading straight for the dining where my food sat. I always get excited eating at Dylan's. Mr. Arthur's cooking is the best.
I always eat here. Mr. Arthur insists on it. He'd make me live here if he could but my dad would never allow. There's a limit to what he can do.
I can't sleepover cause my dad is against it but I honestly appreciate Mr. Arthur's efforts.
I wish he was my father but then again I'm glad he's not cause...well
I don't want Dylan as a brother. The thought makes me cringe.
I ate, dancing on my seat, loving the food. I didn't even know Mr. Arthur was starring till I accidentally glanced at him. The look on his face almost made me choke. "What's wrong?" I asked, dropping the spoon and giving him my attention. He looked bothered.
"What do you feel for my son?" he asked, no hesitating at all.
I licked my inner gum, looking away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I looked back at my empty plate, swinging my feet and playing with my fork "Friendship?" my tone gave out the lie.
Friendship? Pfft. How's it possible to be so attached to that flirt for so long and not trip.
"We both know that's a lie"
"It's not" I kept a neutral face now, turning to look at him so he'd believe.
I needed this conversation dead as soon as possible.
He said nothing after, probably not wanting to pester me too much.
"Okay..." I said awkwardly, uncomfortable with the atmosphere the question left, standing up with my plate and washing it in the kitchen.
I rushed to Dylan's room after. I didn't want to stay here for too long to avoid another question.
I barged into his room, not bothering to knock. An automatic frown made it's way to my face when I saw what he was up to.
He didn't even notice I was there because his earphones were on.
He was doing some sit ups and counting out loud.
"One hundred and fifty three" he counted.
I leaned to the side, resting a shoulder on the side wall then my head rested too. I closed by eyes, sighing, trying to suppress the sudden urge to hit him. My eyes fluttered open as soon as I had calmed down a bit.
"One hundred and fifty four" he groaned, still doing his sit ups.
Naturally, my eyes made it's way to his abs. I smirked at the sight
"One hundred and fifty five" he continued.
He was about to do the hundred and sixth sit up when he noticed me. He paused, starring at me with a confused look on his face. He was probably wondering how long I've been here. It didn't take long for him to shrug off the question and replace expression with a smirk.
"Hmm", he said standing and walking in front of me then stopping, barely giving me any breathing space.
"Hmm" I tilted my head up to show I was not intimidated by his height.
He chuckled "You snuck into my room to watch me exercise?"
"We're late for school" I kept a neutral face, ignoring his question.
Doesn't look to me like he was bothered about that. "You looked like you were about to drool, watching me" He said, wiggling his eyebrows.
I remained quiet, already used to his teases.
"I wonder what was going on in your mind" his smirk grew as he leaned in, slowly grabbing me by my waist and pulling me to him, there was barely even any space between us, his lips were close to brushing against mine.
"Yuck, you're sweating" I laughed, pushing him away by him forehead
He let go off me, taking a few steps back, with an offended expression assisted by a huge frown.
I watched him, choking on my own laughter.
He rubbed his forehead "Ouch" he pouted
I grinned at him.
He did this every time. It's a joke
But sometimes... I wonder if it's not... I wonder what would happen if I don't pull away or push him away
Sometimes I want to try my luck and lean in too but it's wrong. I don't know if he's my mate but I hope he is... I really hope he is.
I started developing feelings since we were kids. I didn't want to but I did. I have no idea if he feels the same. He's a natural flirt. You can't read him.
"Go have a bath idiot" I rolled my eyes, getting over the laughs.
"Imagine you walked in when I was naked" he said, wiggling his eyebrows again.
I laughed "What's wrong with you?"
He grabbed his towel "There's something or someone that's stuck in my head and it's driving me crazy." he put the towel round his neck then shot me a flirty look before walking to the bathroom door.
I starred at him, pouting, thinking about what he said... I had to ask "Who's stuck in your head?!"
"You, you block head" he said when he got into the bathroom
I smiled, satisfied with his answer then left the room.
"Please be my mate Dylan" I whispered while I shut his rooms door.
A/N: Psst... You over there... Drop a comment and vote. Thank you!?
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Comments
Antoinette Swingler
3q2d this book had my feelings up and down. I am so glad in the end everything worked itself ouy.
09/05/2023 01:50
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About Author
WorkingPen
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