The Cursed Luna

Marissa's Pov

The dark cloud loomed overhead, crackling with lightning and creating an air of mysticism. The imminent storm threatened to unleash its ghastly downpour upon the land.

Fierce gusts of wind whipped through the woods as I and my mother, Elisa, raced forward, our breath ragged. My legs ached, numbed by exhaustion, but I couldn't afford to stop and rest. The relentless rogues were closing in, their presence an ever-encroaching danger.

Five months had passed since My 18th birthday, yet I hadn't undergone my first transformation into a werewolf. The delay had been weighing heavily on me, casting a shadow over my spirits. Sensing my turmoil, my mother had suggested a run together, hoping to lift my mood.

We had shared a beautiful bonding experience, forging a connection that only strengthened our familial ties. As we made our way back home, hands clasped tightly, genuine smiles adorned our faces.

However, the joy was abruptly shattered as the once bright sun was swallowed by an ominous storm.

My mother came to an abrupt halt, a shiver coursing through her body as eerie energy enveloped her senses. I could see her eyes darting around, scanning the surroundings, while her wolf whispered through their mind link, alerting her to the presence of danger. The distinct scent of rogues lingered in the air, confirming her suspicions.

I felt her grip tighten even more, sensing the tension radiating from her. I observed her protective stance, shielding me as we were surrounded by a pack of formidable rogue wolves.

I saw her eyes transformed, revealing her wolf's essence as she growled, pushing me behind her for safety. The mix of anger and disgust on her face was palpable, her resolve unwavering.

The situation escalated swiftly as one of the rogues, wearing a smug expression, lunged at her, aiming to bring her down.

With lightning reflexes, she evaded the attack and retaliated, delivering a swift kick that sent the rogue stumbling. The determination in her hazel eyes fueled her movements, her wolf, Sabrina, taking control to defend against our assailants.

Another rogue seized the opportunity, launching a punch at her. Despite her best efforts to dodge, the blow found its mark, striking her side.

She winced momentarily, the pain evident on her face, but she quickly concealed her vulnerability, unwilling to show weakness to the rogues.

Gathering her strength, she propelled herself forward, charging at the rogue who had struck her. Her fist connected with his face, a resounding crack echoing through the air as his nose bore the brunt of the impact. The injured rogue retaliated, lunging at her and pinning her to the ground.

However, her tenacity prevailed. She skillfully entwined her legs with his, swiftly twisting their positions, and emerged on top. With a powerful punch, she rendered the rogue unconscious, his threat neutralized.

I just stood and watched in awe as she fought with unwavering determination and skill.

Her grip tightened on my arm and we continued to run, but our path was abruptly blocked by the encroaching rogues.

I could see fear flickering in her eyes as one of the rogues seized hold of her, causing my heart to sink.

I knew from her expression that she was mind-linking my father and brother, but the delay in their arrival was perplexing.

Amid the chaos, she fought valiantly against the rogues, her determination evident.

I wanted to fight but couldn't muster the strength. I was caught by two rogues, struggling against the grip of the rogues who held me, desperately attempting to break free. With a burst of strength, I managed to wriggle out of their grasp.

"Run, Marissa! Run!" my mother's urgent cry pierced the tumultuous air as she continued her fierce battle. But I vehemently shook my head, refusing to leave her side.

I couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her at this moment.

A sense of helplessness washed over me as I realized my inability to shift into my wolf form. The absence of my transformation left me as no threat against the rogue wolves.

I stood frozen with fear, watching as my mother valiantly fought on. She seemed to be gaining the upper hand against the rogues until, in a treacherous move, one of them attacked her from behind, a smug grin adorning his face.

My voice caught in my throat, unable to release the scream of warning that desperately begged to escape.

It felt as if an invisible force stifled me, robbing me of the ability to reach out to my mother. The shock of the impending danger rendered me motionless.

In a flash, the rogue wolf struck my mother from behind, sending her crashing to the ground. His claws mercilessly slashed at her throat, extinguishing her life force.

I gasped in utter disbelief, tears welling up in my eyes as a storm of emotions swirled within me.

As I stared at her lifeless form, her final message silently echoed in my mind. "I love you, Marissa."

The weight of those words pressed heavily upon me, and my trembling hands covered my mouth, attempting to stifle my anguished cries.

A mix of grief, pain, and emptiness washed over me.

With a chilling smirk, one of the rogues began to approach me, reveling in the apparent victory.

My trembling hands gave way beneath me, causing me to stumble and collapse onto the ground. Whimpering in fear, I huddled in a ball, my eyes tightly shut, bracing myself for the inevitable end.

Amidst my despair, a powerful growl reverberated through the air, causing me to cautiously open my eyes.

To my astonishment, the rogues had vanished without a trace. Confusion mingled with relief as I struggled to comprehend what had just transpired.

Tear-streaked and shaken, I clung tightly to my feet, my gaze returning to my mother's lifeless body. Fear consumed me, squeezing my chest with every labored breath.

"It's my fault," I muttered under my breath, my voice a constant mantra of self-blame. The weight of guilt bore down on me, penetrating my very being. The darkness of my thoughts threatened to engulf her.

Suddenly, I jolted upright in my bed, gasping for air. Beads of sweat adorned my forehead, my trembling hand instinctively clutching my chest.

I pressed my other hand against her quivering lips, desperately muffling my cries, unwilling to let anyone hear my anguish.

Two years had passed since the tragic murder of my mother, yet I was haunted by the horrifying dream night after night.

I finally mustered the strength, wiping the tears from my face with a trembling hand.

Reluctantly, I dragged my weary body out of bed, though every fiber of my being begged her to stay. The choice to remain in bed, however, had never truly been mine to make.

Gazing into the small mirror that hung on the wall, I released a heavy, weary sigh, lost in the reflection before me.

My heart twisted as my eyes fell upon the scar I bore, a painful reminder of the day my mother was brutally taken from me.

My fingers instinctively traced the mark, a gentle caress upon the evidence of my past.

The once vibrant light in my eyes had dimmed, replaced by a lifelessness that mirrored the darkness that engulfed my soul.

Turning away from the mirror, I made my way to the bathroom, hoping that the cold water splashed upon my face would revive some semblance of vitality.

Yet, the refreshing touch of water couldn't chase away the profound sadness that clung to my spirit.

With a heavy heart, I discarded my nightgown and stepped into the shower, allowing the cascading water to wash away not only the physical dirt but also the weight of my sorrow.

I chose my baggy trousers and oversized shirt from the limited options in my wardrobe, my limbs feeling burdened as I dressed as if each movement required an immense effort.

Summoning what little energy remained within my body, I trudged towards the packhouse.

Today, my responsibilities involved cleaning rooms and doing the laundry.

Changing into my work clothes, I began my tasks, my mind lost in a haze of grief.

As I meticulously arranged Alpha Mason's room, my eyes suddenly fell upon a photograph of my beloved mother.

I was never allowed to take anything out of the house when I was disowned. With trembling hands, I picked it up, holding it close to my heart, finding solace in the captured image. A tear slipped down my cheek, my silent lament for the loss I had endured.

Lost in my memories, I failed to notice my father, Alpha Mason's arrival. The air suddenly grew heavy with his presence, and a sharp voice pierced through the room.

"How dare you touch that picture!" His voice boomed, forcefully snatching the photograph from my grip and shoving me to the floor, heedless of any potential harm that might befall me physically.

I cried out in pain as my body collided with the unforgiving wall, a sharp pain trudging through me.

Tears streamed freely down my face. With great effort, I wiped away the evidence of my anguish, my gaze meeting the eyes of my father who regarded me with nothing but anger and disgust.

The memories of our strained relationship and the fateful day my mother fell victim to rogues resurfaced, further deepening the wounds that already married my soul.

FLASHBACK

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Upon discovering my mother's lifeless body, my father, Alpha Mason arrived at the scene.

Surprisingly, the rogues were nowhere to be found, and no trace of them was left behind.

A mournful howl escaped my father's lips as he rushed to cradle his fallen mate, tears streaming down his anguished face.

Witnessing my father's grief made me blame myself more.

If only I hadn't been sad if I didn't go for this run with her, then she would have been alive with us and I wouldn't have to see my father looking vulnerable.

I had never seen him this vulnerable. I gazed at him, noticing a glimpse of hatred and disgust in his eyes as his gaze met mine.

"You killed her, you murdered your mother, Marissa," He growled at me, his accusation piercing my soul.

Shock washed over me, as I was unable to comprehend how my father could hold such a damning belief.

How could he think so lowly of me? Tears cascaded down my face, unimpeded, like an unstoppable river of pain and sorrow.

"I didn't do it, we were attacked by rogue wolves on our way back home. I swear, it wasn't me," I pleaded, my voice choked with tears. However, my father remained unconvinced, his eyes brimming with disbelief.

"You're a liar! Why can't I smell any trace of rogues? The only scent I detect is yours and your mother's. She must have scratched you when you attacked her," He snarled, his accusation laced with anger and suspicion.

I hadn't even noticed the scratch until he pointed it out. I knew that my wounds took longer to heal compared to other werewolves due to my lack of shifting abilities.

"I would never harm her, Father. I swear, I am telling the truth," I replied, my head bowed in sorrow. I wiped away my tears with the back of my trembling hand, hoping to convey my innocence.

"Don't you dare call me Father, you murderer! I didn't raise a monster. From this day forward, you are dead to us. I no longer have a daughter," He roared, his words crashing down upon me like a relentless storm.

He stood up, cradling my mother's lifeless body, and turned away, leaving me behind.

I yearned to follow him, to explain myself further, but the glance of my brother halted me in my tracks.

His eyes reflected a myriad of emotions—hurt, anger, disappointment, and more. Without a word, he joined our father, leaving me alone with my shattered world.

Never before had I felt so utterly alone. My father had declared me dead, and my brother now despised me.

The story of that fateful day remained unchanged, but no one believed me. Within the pack, I was scorned, and treated as the wolf-less monster, the beast who had supposedly slaughtered my mother.

I'm Marissa Allister, the only daughter of Alpha Mason Allister who was now considered dead to my family. The weight of their condemnation bore down on me, casting me into a pit of isolation and despair.