FIONA'S POV

“Get out of here, you stupid girl!”

I slipped and fell to the ground as I tried to dodge the glass bowl Natasha threw towards me. The bowl shattered, showering me with fragments of glass. I stayed on the ground, not daring to move or look up as Natasha, my stepmother, advanced towards me.

“You stupid idiot, you can't even do anything right!” She yelled, towering over me.

“I'm sorry,” I apologized, hating the fact that my voice came out as a whimper.

She gave me a kick to my ribs and I tried my best not to cry out. Yesterday, she had shoved me and I had hit my ribs on the staircase, leaving it bruised and now the kick added more to the pain in the already sore spot.

“You can't even prepare a plate of food for your sister! What is that burnt nonsense on the dining table?!” She asked with a shrill.

“I'm sorry! I forgot about the food because I was busy with the clothes you asked me to fold,” I pleaded, praying desperately that she would leave me alone.

“That's not an excuse, you lazy cunt! Get up now and go prepare something else.”

I nodded on the ground, not daring to move until she had left. When I saw that she was far away enough, I stood up and went to the kitchen through the back door.

Ever since my father, the Alpha of our pack, had brought in Natasha when I was twelve, my life had been hell. Not that it hadn't been hell before. But my troubles tripled when she came in. Natasha made sure that she tormented me every passing moment while my older sister Amber, did whatever she wanted.

My father did not care what happened to me. He believed whatever Natasha told him. He hated me anyways so it only gave him more excuse to beat me.

As I started cooking, Amber sauntered into the kitchen.

“Hey, sister.”

I ignored her and continued with slicing the mushroom.

“Fine,” she said, “Be like that,” she said and reached out for one of the apple slices I had put inside a bowl. I resisted the urge to slam the knife on her fingers.

“Natasha says you should stop whatever it is you're cooking and start preparing something better.”

“Wha - what do you mean?” I asked, momentarily stopping the knife over the mushrooms.

She slipped another apple slice between her lips and took her time before answering. “Her orders, not mine.”

I watched as she continued to gobble up my apple slices. I had meant to use the apple as my lunch since I hadn't eaten anything all day and it was now past evening, but now they were all gone and I dared not say a word or it would mean a fresh round of hell for me.

After she put another slice in her mouth, she said, “I suggest you roast a chicken. I'm craving for some,” she said, sliding the last slice of apple into her mouth.

“I should roast a chicken?” I asked in dumb disbelief, hoping that I hadn't heard her correctly. I was already tired to the bones and I needed to rest. The idea of roasting a chicken this late into the day had tears rushing to my eyes. “But what about the soup on the fire now?” I asked.

Amber reached over, stretched her arm, and callously tilted over the bubbling pot on the stove, splattering the soup everywhere and making a mess of the floor and countertop.

“Oops,” she said, as she turned to go, “Would you look at that? Good luck with the chicken.”

Slowly, I sank to the floor and started cleaning up the mess. I tried my best to prevent the tears but they clouded my vision and spilled down my face even though I knew there was no one coming to save me, no one to take me out of this suffering and misery.

I quickly wiped my tears and got to work on the chicken I had been order to prepare. I had no choice.

My heart quivered and my hands shook in fear as the loud set of footsteps continued stomping up the stairs and towards my room. I didn't have to be told that it was my father, coming to teach me a lesson as usual. These days, he didn't need an excuse to beat me into stupor and trying to protect myself was futile because all it did was got me hurt more. My body was already filled with countless scars.

My door suddenly flew in and there he stood, breathing hard from anger. The veins stood out on his face and his eyes were red with rage. In his hand was a belt.

I scooted back on the bed, stopping when my back hit the wall.

“F…Father —”

“You!”

Immediately, I knew he was drunk. The smell of the alcohol on his body, hit me full on the nose and I tried my best not to flinch or cover my nose. It was a pattern I was already used to. Each time, he got drunk, he would always turn me into a whipping post.

“Where have you been all day?!”

I tried not to sound scared as I replied, “I've been here all day, Father.”

“All day?!” He barked. “Been here all day doing nothing and being utterly useless?!” As he raged, spittle flew from his face and directly onto mine.

I didn't see the belt fall on me until I felt excruciating pain spread through me.

I folded myself into a tight ball, trying to protect my self as much as I could, but it was futile. The whip kept finding his mark all over my body.

“You bastard child!” he screamed, lashing at me continuously with the belt in his hand. “You killing monster!”

I remained curled up on my bed until he was tired and done.

“Make sure you present yourself nicely tomorrow and don't embarrass me with your attitude!”

“Yes, Father.” I replied, because I knew if I didn't, he might flew into another rage.

When he left, I dragged myself to the bathroom and paused in front of the mirror.

Blue eyes, black hair. The spitting image of my mother — the woman who died on the day I was birth and the main reason why I was being treated like trash by my father and sister. They believed I killed her, that she dying on my birth day was no mere coincidence.

I was used to their treatment of me and had accepted it for as long as I could but no more.

Tomorrow, I would turn eighteen and that means I would be able to know who my mate was. I didn't care whoever it was, as long as he would take me away from here. I would finally be free.

FIONA'S POV

Standing under the bright lights, I could feel every eye in the room on me, though none of them really saw me. My Father stood tall and imposing beside me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder, as though I were his precious little daughter. He introduced me to the crowd with a warm smile, calling me his "sweet Fiona," the cherished youngest child, celebrating my 18th birthday. But I knew better. That smile was as fake as the warmth in his voice.

I forced a smile in return, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest. The truth was, the only time my father showed me any real attention was when he was angry. Like last night. The memory of his drunken rage flickered through my mind, the sting of the whip across my back.

But none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was playing my part.

I straightened up, my forced smile still in place, as guests from all over the pack came forward to greet me. They all pretended to care, offering gifts and polite words, but I knew none of them meant it. They pitied me, maybe even feared me. After all, I was the reason my mother was dead. The whispered gossip around the pack always returned to the same cruel point: My birth had killed her, and for that, my father and Amber hated me.

“Thank you all for coming to grace this wonderful occasion with us,” my father said and the crowd cheered.

None of them knew that it was all a facade. None of them knew he had whipped me yesterday night so I could learn to behave and act like my perfect sister.

The memories stinging in my mind, I stepped forward and plastered a practiced smile on my face, waving and bowing at the guests.

As the celebration continued, I made sure to go round and greet the Alphas present. It was either that or else.

Suddenly, a low voice echoed in my head. “Fiona, he's here,”

I froze. It was my wolf, Mira, her presence stirring for the first time in days.

“Who's here?” I asked, feeling a strange rush of energy course through me.

“Our mate,” she answered, her voice filled with barely contained excitement. “I can feel him. He's close. Our mate is here,” she repeated.

I paused, shock and surprise running through me. “What? W-what did you say? Our mate?” I stammered in question.

“Yes. He is here,” she replied.

My heart pounding, I began to make my way through the crowd, trying to find him.

Who was it? Where was he?

I’d dreamed of this moment my entire life, the one thing that might finally be mine, something no one could take from me.

I scanned the room, my eyes darting from face to face, searching for someone—anyone—who felt different. I took a deep breath and started moving through the crowd, my heart pounding harder with every step. People kept trying to talk to me, but I barely heard them. I had one goal now: find him.

And then, I saw him.

At the far end of the room, standing near the entrance, his eyes locked onto mine the moment I spotted him. He was tall, even taller than my father, with dark hair and piercing gray eyes.

“Mate,” The word burst from both of us at the same time, the pull between us undeniable.

“Fiona,” my father’s voice called out, snapping me out of the trance I had fallen into. I turned to see him standing a few feet away, watching me with a calculating look. His eyes flickered between me and the man who was now standing in front of me and he smiled.

I swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. Why had he smile? Was there something going on between them? All I just wanted was my mate.

The man—my mate—glanced at my father, then back at me.

“Who is he?” I whispered to Mira, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Alpha Garrick,” she answered quietly, “leader of the StoneHeart Pack,”

I didn't care who he was. I was just thankful that I had him to save me from my misery and suffering.

Alpha Garrick’s lips parted, and he spoke, his voice low and firm. “I am Alpha Garrick,” he said, confirming Mira’s words. “And you… are my mate.”

His words sent a shock through me, but I tried to stay calm, nodding as I met his gaze. I could feel the bond between us, the pull that told me he was mine and I was his.

But my mind was spinning. It seemed too good to be true. Too good to believe. I was going to be finally free from them all.

Before I could say anything, my father stepped forward, a cold smile on his face. “Alpha Garrick,” he said smoothly. “What a surprise. I see you’ve met my daughter, the birthday girl.”

“Yes,” Garrick said slowly, replying my father. “I have met your daughter. I was just wishing her a happy eighteenth birthday.”

My father turned to me. “I hope you've appreciated him for gracing your birthday party. That would be the polite thing to do.”

I swallowed and turned my gaze to the ground. “Yes, Father. I — I was just thanking him.”

Inside of me, my mind was twisting in a knot. Should I tell my father that Alpha Garrick was my mate? Why was Alpha Garrick himself not saying anything.

I risked a glance at him with the side of my eyes. He didn't look like he was going to say anything.

“Say something, Fiona,” my wolf urged inside of me.

“This is your chance. Speak up,”

I swallowed. I didn't want to be too forward, but this seemed like my only chance and I didn't want to miss it.

I opened my mouth and said, “Father, this is my mate,” the same moment Amber came and gave Garrick a kiss and said with a superior smirk, “Father, Fiona, this is my boyfriend.”

FIONA'S POV

“What?” I asked, not sure if I had heard it right. “W-what did you say, Amber? What do you mean?”

I had always dreamed about this —the day I’d meet my mate, the day everything would fall in place for me. But I had never thought about this, never envisioned that my sister would take him from me. No. Nothing could have prepared me for this.

Tonight was meant to be for me. Mine.

“I said, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Amber repeated, her eyes boring into mine.

I turned, my heart sinking, as Amber linked her arm through Garrick's with the sort of ease that spoke of familiarity. Intimacy. Garrick didn’t pull away. His strong, broad frame leaned into hers, their bodies perfectly aligned as if they belonged together.

Boyfriend?

The word echoed in my mind, twisting like a thorn in my chest. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

Amber’s lips curved into a smug smile as she noticed my shock. "Oh, Fiona, didn’t you know?" she said, her voice dripping with false pity. "I guess no one bothered to tell you. Garrick and I have been together for months now."

My stomach twisted painfully. I couldn’t breathe. "That’s not true…" I whispered, my voice barely audible, as if saying it out loud would make it real. "Garrick is… Garrick is my mate."

The room fell silent, the music a dull sound in the background as all eyes turned to us. Amber’s expression hardened instantly, her sweet demeanor vanishing. She glared at me, a sharp, venomous look in her eyes.

"Your mate?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Please. Who would want you, Fiona?"

Before I could even process her words, my father stepped forward, his expression cold and unreadable. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t even look at me with the faintest hint of compassion. Instead, he sneered,"Do you really think anyone would choose you over Amber?" His voice was low but biting, carrying across the room. "You’ve always been a disappointment, Fiona. Weak. Pathetic. Amber is the future of our family. You… you’re nothing."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. I looked at Garrick, my last hope. His face was unreadable, but he didn’t deny anything. He didn’t step forward to defend me, didn’t pull away from Amber. His silence was louder than any words.

"Amber," Garrick’s deep voice finally broke through the tension. He turned to her, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "You have nothing to worry about. Fiona means nothing to me."

His words were like a physical blow. My knees almost buckled under the weight of them.

My heart shattered, splintering into pieces so small I could never gather them again. "You can’t mean that, Alpha Garrick…" My voice broke as I stared at him, searching his face for any sign that this was some cruel joke. "We’re mates."

He looked at me then, his gaze cold and indifferent. "I reject you, Fiona," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "As my mate, I reject you. You’re nothing to me. Amber is the only one I’ve ever wanted."

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The rejection slammed into me like a wave, suffocating me in pain and humiliation. It seemed my heart shattered completely at that moment.

I managed to shove the pain aside and said, ”I accept your rejection. I accept the sever of bonds between us. We no longer belong to each other.”

Saying that, I turned and fled. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t stand here and let them watch me fall apart. Without another word, I turned and ran, bolting through the door and out into the woods. The cold night air bit at my skin, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

I didn’t stop running until the hall was nothing but a distant memory behind me. I found myself at the old cottage that I had discovered a long time ago — it was a sanctuary I’d retreated to so many times before, my safe haven. Here, among the trees and the quiet, I could breathe again.

Inside, the familiar wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I collapsed onto the worn couch, my chest heaving from both pain and exertion.

Suddenly, a tear rolled down my eye and I could no longer stop them. They came in waves, drowning me in sorrow and betrayal.

How could they do this to me? How could he?

Amber’s mocking voice, my father’s cruel words, and Garrick’s rejection played on repeat in my head, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I fell into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of those who had betrayed me.

I didn’t know how long I slept, but I woke up to a strange smell in the air. Smoke.

The crackling sound of flames reached my ears, and panic surged through me as I realized the cottage was on fire. Thick smoke filled the room, making it hard to see, hard to breathe. I tried to move, but my body felt sluggish, weak.

The champagne… Amber’s smile as she handed me the glass. Of course. She had planned this. She hadn’t just taken Garrick from me—she wanted me dead. She had drugged the drink.

I stumbled toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. From the outside.

Panic clawed at me as the flames grew closer, licking at the walls, devouring the only place I had ever felt safe. I screamed, but the smoke choked my voice, my body too weak to fight.

Was this how it was going to end? Alone, betrayed, and burning?

Just as the darkness threatened to consume me, I heard the door burst open with a loud crash. A figure stood silhouetted against the flames.

“Alpha… Garrick?” I murmured, my vision blurring as unconsciousness dragged me under.

It was him. He had come back for me.