Pregnant And Rejected

Chapter 1 My Wolf Leaves

Selene’s POV

You never get used to being poisoned, no matter how frequently it happens. The pain never lessens; the fear never fades. Understanding what’s happening might save you some confusion, but nothing can ease the anguish of betrayal.

I’ve been poisoned every day for eight years, held prisoner by the person meant to love and protect me most. I wish I could tell you why, I wish I knew why myself, but I can only guess. The reality is my childhood ended the day my mother died; the day my father, Garrick, finally showed his terrible true nature.

Sometimes I think the grief stole his sanity. It seems impossible that the kind, caring man who raised me could commit such brutality. I was only ten, and I have not always been a good prisoner, but I always thought I was a good daughter.

I cannot figure out what I did wrong. After all, what crime can a ten-year-old commit to deserve such punishment? Perhaps I’ve forgotten, blocked out the memory to protect myself from the knowledge of my own guilt. I wish I could do the same with the last 8 years. I would give anything to forget, to be whole again.

My world used to be wide and wondrous, full of fresh air and moonlit adventures in the forest. My ancestors, the very first members of the Nova Pack, built our city into the mountains themselves. The buildings were carved into the hard granite in intricate and elegant tiers, woven around trees and waterfalls in a beautiful contradiction of wilderness and modernity.

Outside the walls of my prison a sprawling city waits, glittering with light and opportunity. We call it Elysium; paradise. In my memories it lives up to the name, but it has been out of reach for so long I cannot be sure anymore. Now I live only in darkness, a small windowless room in the place I once called home.

I sleep more often than anything else, not that I need it. There simply isn’t anything else to do. Though even if there was something to occupy my time, I’m not sure I’d have the energy.

Garrick took no chances with my captivity. Locking me away wasn’t enough. I was too strong for him, bearing more power than he could fathom. As a child my mother’s bloodline hadn’t mattered so much, wolves only come into their full power when they reach physical maturity.

Our wolves are with us from the day we’re born, but the magic comes later. For most people the first shift happens around age 13, before that our power only really presents itself in our pack roles.

Garrick started giving me the Wolfsbane long before I actually needed it, before there was any chance of me shifting and coming into my birthright. So I reached physical maturity, but I’ve never felt the extraordinary power my mother’s bloodline guarantees.

There’s no doubt I inherited the gene; the evidence is written in my skin. One blue eye, one violet – that is the mark of a Volana wolf.

Special. That’s what everyone says. The Volana wolves are special; blessed by the goddess with unrivaled senses, incomparable speed and strength, and a profound connection with nature. Well I feel special alright; so special that even years of poisoning cannot put an end to my suffering.

me? Why can’t I go outside? Why do

I turned to apologies, I’m so sorry, whatever I

anger taught me there is no use fighting. The pack is going to notice I’m gone! You can’t keep this up much longer, sooner or later someone is going to come looking for

still remember the way he cornered me, kneeling down and leaning so close I could smell the whisky on his breath. No one is coming for you, Selene. Not

right. No one

sane is my wolf, Luna. She lives in my weak and broken

I feel her less and less. She’s like a fading, flickering light,

a person lives on. The Wolfsbane can’t kill me, but

one in the same.

sure I

help feeling like

coming soon. Luna’s voice sounded in my head, warning me. She can feel the coming night, and Garrick always comes after dark. It’s as if he knows the pull of the moon – no matter how distant

“I know.” murmur weakly.

breathe. She reminds me,

will never be over.” I

one way or another. Luna says patiently, sounding farther away than a

ends.’I sigh, “And it’s

her weak voice trails off,

not continue. “Luna?” My voice breaks,

fall from my tongue. He’s there: a hulking form framed in the too bright doorway, leering down at me

glass to me, and I take it with trembling

crazy to drink it on my own – but I’m not. Resisting Garrick means one thing and one thing only: pain. I refused in the beginning, but fighting only earned me

nothing to exert his power over me. He enjoys my pain, the torture in my eyes when he gropes and caresses me,