The Werewolf King's Bride

(From Blue's Perspective)

Max left after he had cleaned my wounds. He told me to sleep. But I could not. Every night, I was haunted by the thought of not being able to leave this family.

Max once told me that there was a cause behind Father's vehement dislike of me.

"Can't you see that you don't look like him?"

"You mean he beats me up just because I don't look like him?"

"Come on, Blue. It's clear that... Don't mind, please. It's clear that you're not his."

"You mean, Mother cheated on him and I'm the result?" I asked.

"I guess so. I mean, look at Draven and me. We have gray eyes and dirty blond hair. But you don't. You have brunette hair and blue eyes. Even Mother doesn't have them."

He had a valid point there. My appearance was diametrically opposed to that of my father. I had a few things in common with Mother, but I had nothing in common with Father. Father, Draven, and Maxen all had blond hair and gray eyes. Mother had dark brown eyes and red hair. But I was unique.

My facial structure was also different. My nose was similar to Mother's, but in other ways, I had a completely different structure. This time, I truly wondered if I was not my father's. Maybe this was why he despised me so much.

I sat next to the window, leaning against the frame, attempting to fill my mind with cold air to expel all of my misery. Things were becoming more complicated. I overheard Draven and Father discussing whoring, or something similar two days ago.

I was horrified, believing he was talking about turning me into a whore to get money. Since that day, I had been carrying a knife with me. So in case Draven or Father tried to sell me to someone, I would be able to kill myself. I would rather die than become someone's plaything.

The moon was obscured by dense clouds tonight. The night seemed to be pleading with me to go out onto the roof and sit in the rain. Whenever it rained, I would go up to the roof and sit there for as long as I could without being seen.  No one was there to see anyway. But I still refused to cry any other time if it was not raining. Perhaps, to make myself stronger, I chose this way.

Draven's usual yelling reached my ears. He was even angrier than usual tonight. I did not care to go and see why he was behaving like that. In these situations, I stayed as far away from Father and Draven as possible. If I came into their line of sight, they would direct their rage at me.

I decided to get some sleep. At least, if I slept, I would not have to deal with the pain in my abdomen.

But my peace was not something my family would want. Suddenly the door of my room burst open, and before I knew what was going on, Draven had grabbed me by the hair.

"She took the money. Ask her," he hissed.

I saw Father there as I writhed in agony, trying to break free from his clutches. Both of them together... I was so dead tonight. I wanted to tell Max that he should at the very least bury me.

"Have you taken the money, Blue?" Father asked coldly. His voice was not loud and I feared this the most. When he was loud, he would kick me or strike me with a belt. But when his voice was cold, he was the most ruthless. The last time he said something like this to me, he shoved my hand into the fireplace and held it there despite my wailing and screams.

Fortunately, an elderly neighbor stopped by to see what was wrong. Or I would surely lose my hand that day.

"What money?" I asked. I had no idea what they were talking about. I had never taken their money, not even for once, not when I needed to buy tampons in an emergency, not when I needed to take costly medicines for my throat pain.

"I've kept five hundred dollars in the second drawer of my table," Father said. "Did you take it?"

"No."

A punch landed on my throat. It was excruciatingly painful. I felt as if the bone there had broken as a result of the sudden force. I clenched my teeth, making a futile attempt to breathe.

"Liar!" Draven hissed angrily. I was certain now that Draven was the one who had taken the money.

"I'm... not... lying," I managed to stammer, in the throes of agony. I coughed and felt my chest burning with pain.

"She is lying, Father! That whore!" Draven snarled.

"You piece of pure nonsense, I'm not lying!" I shouted, not caring about the pain in my throat.

"How dare you talk back, you bitch!" Draven said and pulled my hair so hard that I felt my whole skull getting out of my head.

"Slow down, Draven," Father said slowly. "She will learn her lesson soon. I got our first customer."

I gasped, realizing what he was talking about. Even though I knew exactly what he was talking about, I did not want to believe it. He could not truly do it, could he? He was my father. No matter what, he could not do it, right?

"How much does he want to  pay?" Draven asked, not loosening his grasp on my hair.

"100 dollars per two hours," Father replied.

"It's not much. Tell him 150," Draven said as if he was talking about renting a piece of unused furniture.

"It's just the beginning. We'll grow the business more," Father said. "I think she is ready now."

"Are you talking about..."

"Yes, sweet sister. We're discussing how we can use you as a business tool. What's that body of yours for then?" Draven said, smiling like a maniac.

My heart sank with fear at the prospect of losing my sole valuable possession.

"No..."

"Oh, yes," Father said. "If you can't come to use, there's no need for you."

"Then I'll leave. I won't ever come back, I swear," I said quickly, hoping he would agree.

"Don't even think about it. Why do you think I kept you alive all those years?" Father said.

"To use my body for money?" I yelled. "I would rather die than be anyone's sex toy."

"Don't raise your voice, you little slut!" Draven hissed and yanked my hair even tighter.

"Leave me alone, you evil! I have never done anything wrong. Then why are you doing this to me?" I said desperately. This time, I could not even stop the tears.

"Shhh..." Draven jeered into my ear. "You will like it, sister."

All I wanted to do was hit him so hard he would never forget what he had done to me. Maybe my hand was a little faster than my intellect. I did not even know what I had done until Draven groaned in pain.

"How dare you..."

Draven almost knocked my head against the corner of the bed. To my greatest fortune, I heard Mother's voice from downstairs.

"Raphael! Someone wants to meet you."

Mother's voice was unbelievably gentle. I was certain it was someone who we did not know or someone important.

"Draven, come down. I don't want whoever it is to hear her stupid screams," Father said, glancing disgustedly at me as if I was rotten garbage.

Draven sneered one more time before releasing my hair and exiting the room, slamming the door loudly behind them.

I sobbed as I sat on the bed, my knees pressed against my chest. I did not want to cry, but the tears did not stop. The voices downstairs were very low. I had no idea who had shown up or what they were discussing. Not many people would come to our house. If anyone did, it would be the drug-selling hefty obese man with thick mustaches.

After what seemed like an hour, I heard footsteps upstairs. I laid down and pretended to sleep so I would not have to face whatever they had planned for me this time.

"Blue, come downstairs."

It was Mother. Her voice was cheerful, which was unusual to hear. She was clearly ecstatic about something.

"Why?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Just come on," she said and pulled me with her roughly. Her grip was not as tight as Father's or Draven's, which I was grateful about.

"What is it?" I asked again.

But she ignored me, yet the smile on her face remained. She brought me downstairs into the living room. I glanced at the place and still could not fully understand why she had brought me here.

There were not just them there; there was another man, or I would rather say a sin.