Love: Just Like Poison

Love: Just Like Poison

Fidelis · Ongoing · 31.2k Words

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Introduction

Claire has always been different—a beta werewolf gifted in the deadly arts of healing and poison. Feared for her unusual abilities, she is shunned by her pack, except for Dylan, the alpha’s son, who enjoys making her life miserable. But on his birthday, Claire finally gets her revenge, humiliating him in front of everyone.

She never expects what happens next. The intoxicating scent of a mate bond ties her to the one person she despises most—Dylan. Disgusted, she rejects him without hesitation. But Dylan isn’t one to be defied. Furious, he vows to make her suffer, marking her as his before tossing her aside.

Just when all hope seems lost, Claire’s fate takes an unexpected turn. Her long-lost father, Alpha Wilson, appears—alongside Blake Caesar, the powerful leader of the Mirage-Ember Pack. And to her shock, Blake is her second-chance mate. With no hesitation, she chooses him right in front of Dylan, breaking free from his cruel grasp.

But freedom comes at a price. Blake doesn’t want love—only a Luna to secure his pack’s future and a skilled poison master to aid him. Thrust into a world of ruthless power plays and deadly secrets, Claire must decide: will she accept a loveless bond for the sake of survival, or fight for the respect and power she deserves?

Chapter 1

Claire's POV

I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding, as Dylan raised the glass of wine to his lips. "Come on bastard, drink!" I muttered under my breath, the words fighting to get out past my clenched jaw.

This was my small personal gesture of thanks, my payback for all the hell he had put me through my entire life. My hands did quiver a bit, but I kept my glaring at him and watched eagerly as he downed the drink in one gulp. A sick sense of pride ran through me, and I couldn't help but have the smile making its way to my mouth. This is revenge!

It was hotter than average for mid-summer, air thick with warmth and scent of fresh grass. It didn't mean anything to me, though. Everyone kept it casual, shorts, tank tops, the party vibe of a summer barbecue hanging in the air. Folks laughed, danced, flirted. There was only one thing to me, though. Revenge.

The open field was filled with sounds, the laughter and conversation of the pack members surrounding me. They were all teenagers, caught up in the normal rites of passage. I found myself standing on the sidelines, feeling like the odd one out. My dad was off doing his thing, like all the other parents. I was by myself in my quest. By myself in my hate.

"Hi freak! Come touch my cup!" Dylan shouted, his words stumbling over each other from the intoxicatedness I had been hoping to witness.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my way through the crowd. The moment they spotted me coming, the pack scattered, as if plague had been visited upon them. It didn't bother me. It made it easier, in fact. Nobody wished to be poisoned or killed by the "witch," as they liked to call me. Good. Less distraction, the better.

I could sense the seconds drag into eternity as I stood and watched him drink. The poison would not take immediately, I had made sure of that, but the five-minute wait felt like sixty. A grin tugged at my mouth. He would never see it coming.

As I kept pouring more of the drink into his cup, Dinah, his arm candy, leaned over and whispered something into his ear. He threw his head back laughing, his boom of a voice carrying through the evening, and I swore under my breath as he spilled some of the drink on my blouse.

My anger flashed at once. I gasped, but he did not hear, too enthralled by his own pleasure. He whirled to kiss Dinah, completely unaware of my rage, and I could feel my fists clenching into hard balls. My chest burned with fury, but I simply turned and strode away to a table, grabbing some tissue paper hastily to wipe it off.

Fortunately for me, it was black, it covered the stain very well.

I could have thought of many things to say about Dylan, but "the devil incarnate" was perhaps the most fitting. He was the embodiment of all things evil in this world, come to torment me. But tonight? Tonight was different. Tonight was my revenge.

I did not care that he was the son of the alpha. If no one else dared to punish him, then I would take it upon myself in a heartbeat.

I finished cleaning and caught sight of him disappearing into his cabin just as I finished up. I caught my breath and prepared for the next phase of my plan.

When he finally emerged, my smile could not be contained. His smooth face had become a scarlet terrain of pustulated pimples. It was so beautiful to behold that I almost burst out laughing.

Dinah's expression was one of horror, her mouth agape as she looked at him. I had a rush of triumph inside me, a deep contentment.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked, sounding dazed as he stared at his own face.

Dinah couldn't speak, pointing at him, her horror apparent.

The people surrounding them gasped, their whispers hanging in the air. Some tried to hide smiles, but they were already too late. The damage was already done. His face—his smooth, flawless face, was now marred. His confusion turned into combined laughter with others as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

I couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up in my chest. His shocked, pitiful face was all I had ever dreamed of.

Don't get an answer from Dinah, he glared at his friends, but they could only laugh hysterically. He was losing control, and I could see the fury burning in his eyes.

This was even better than I had dreamed.

Angered, he strode into his house, shoving others out of the way. I could hear the muttered protests as they stepped aside for him, but it didn't matter. His humiliation was my pleasure.

A scream rang from the cabin, and I recognized immediately that I had done what I had come to do. He had looked in the mirror. It was all I wanted to know that I had completed my mission. The poison, the ultimate gag—I was happy.

And before I had a chance to dissolve into the crowd, his voice reached out to me. "Where is she?" Dylan bellowed, his face flushed with fury. "That witch! Where is she?"

I couldn't help the burst of fear that ran through me, but I kept my face impassive, not bothering.

"Where is who?" Dinah cried, rushing to his side, her voice laced with concern.

"You know who the idiot is!" Dylan roared, furious.

I knew he was looking for me, and my heart was racing. I had to act quickly. I melted into the crowd, becoming invisible, my steps silent, heading for the backdoor of his house. If I was going to be concealed, it had to be where no one would ever consider looking, his territory.

I snuck around the side of the house, my movements fast and quiet. The backdoor was the route to his bedroom, and soon enough I was safely hidden in his wardrobe. The faint call of Dylan's voice calling out for me got my heart racing faster. The plan was going to succeed.

I waited, each moment dragging on longer than before. It felt like an eternity, but eventually the house fell into silence.

Then my wolf let out a howl, and a scent familiar yet unknown filled the air, almost intoxicating in its warmth. Confusion coursed through me, my heart racing in my chest. My instincts screamed, but I couldn't make sense of it.

I pushed the door of the closet open just a little bit, attempting to find where the smell was coming from. Before I could open it wide enough, however, the door was opened by an outside force. I stood there in shock, my blood running ice-cold as a face I never believed I'd ever see stood in my line of sight.

It was him. Dylan, standing there in a daze and shock. His friends stood behind him, just as shocked.

No. No way. This was not happening.

My heart skipped a beat, and a nauseating, sinking feeling took place in my stomach. From his newly zit-free face, it was clear that he too had no clue what was happening.

Then it hit me. The knowledge was a searing jolt to my mind. It could be only one thing.

I had found my mate.

No. Not him. It couldn't be him.

I shrank back in horror, sickness churning in my belly. The very thought repelled me.

But before he could speak a word, I cut in with haste, my tone harsh and unforgiving. "I reject you."

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