CHAPTER 5
♠ Isabella's POV ♠
I never thought this would be how my life ended. I always figured I'd go out in a more cinematic way.
Maybe a tragic pack sacrifice or a glorious, slow-motion hair-pulling match with Selena.
But here? Bleeding out in the middle of the woods, my foot mangled in a rusted trap, and my neck throbbing like it had its own annoying little pulse.
Ten out of ten for drama, zero stars for the actual experience. The fire that had been tearing through me was fading now, leaving only a hollow ache.
My entire body felt lighter. If I'd known dying felt this much like a really bad hangover, I might have tried harder to stay conscious.
I thought about my family. Who's even going to miss me? The school would shrug. My so-called pack might whisper for a week, then move on to the next piece of gossip.
Mother? Oh, she'd be thrilled. Finally, the mistake is gone. She could turn my room into a walk-in closet for her resentment.
Father? Beta Rohan wouldn't even blink. He'd simply pretend I'd never existed, which, to be fair, is his favorite hobby anyway.
And Selena? My dear sweet twin sister would probably dance over my grave, assuming she didn't find the dirt too unfashionable for her shoes.
Then Aleric....
I shut that thought down. He hadn't looked at me long enough to notice I was there in the first place.
I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm part of the furniture.
Still… the idea of just vanishing, forgotten, stung worse than the blood leaking from me. Was this how my brother Ethan felt?
I squeezed my eyes shut. I had been five. Small, stubborn, and obsessed with "fairy stones."
"Please, Sammy," I'd begged. He was supposed to be the future Alpha Beta. Strong. Untouchable.
But a rogue wolf doesn't care about pups when it's starving.
"Run, Izzy!" he'd whispered. And I had. Like a coward.
If there was an Olympic medal for Running Away While Your Brother Gets Mauled," I'd have taken the gold.
Darkness tugged at me until something warm dripped down my neck. Whatever that monster had done was still "celebrating" under my skin.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks as my miserable life flashed before my eyes. I didn't want to cry.
Crying was pathetic and I was already pathetic enough. I fucking hate my life, myself and my miserable existence.
I hoped if I was born again, I'd be human. Maybe a human with a nice desk job and zero supernatural predators.
That sounds like a dream.....
"Isabella!"
My name ripped through the trees. Not the monster. A voice, urgent and familiar. Through my foggy haze, figures emerged. Broad shoulders. Heavy footsteps.
Him Aleric. The boy who'd left me behind the moment the pack decided I wasn't worth the carbon dioxide I was exhaling.
He wasn't alone. Two warriors flanked him. My lips tried to move—to curse him? To laugh? To ask him if he liked the new bleedingout look I was sporting?
But nothing came out.
What was he doing here? Confusion blurred everything as Alaric bent down, his arms sliding beneath me with a gentleness I didn't remember.
His rain-slick hair was clinging to his face, and he looked wide-eyed and frantic. Nice touch. Very "heroic rescue," even if he was about seven years too late.
A stupid stray tear slipped down my left cheek, "What happened to you?" Aleric muttered, but I was already slipping under.
The last thing I felt was his heartbeat thundering against my face as he lifted me from the ground, whispering my name frantically in fear.
And then.....blackness
___
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
Slow, rhythmic sounds filled the room as my eyes fluttered open. The first thing I saw was a bright light—too harsh. I squeezed my eyes shut again.
Wincing, trying to process what was happening. It took a second before I realized I was in some kind of medical facility.
My lashes fluttered, and the world came in pieces. A ceiling white. The beeping machines, the sterile smell… all too familiar.
Pack hospital.
How could I forget? I'd been dragged here countless times after my mother or Selena "lost their temper." I should really have a loyalty card by now.
Buy ten stitches, get the eleventh free.
Everything hurt though. My ankle throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.
"Easy…" A soft voice called out, forcing me to open my eyes again, vision swimming until it steadied on a figure moving toward me.
A woman in pale clothes....Mrs. Sabrina, the pack doctor. Her brown hair was tied back, her eyes sharp even under the tired shadows beneath them.
"You're awake," she said, looking relieved. "We weren't sure you'd wake at all."
Wake up at all? Her cool hands touched my wrist, checked my pulse, then moved to my bandaged leg.
I winced at the light pressure, my throat felt like I'd swallowed a bag of dry sand. "How do you feel?" she asked softly, helping me sit up and handing me a cup of water.
I took small sips before coughing out. Mrs Sabrina took the water from me while rubbing my back.
Well that's new. "You've been out for a week."
The words hit me like a slap. A week? Come on, there goes my attendance record. But was that how bad the situation was?
Technically you were about to die, Shut up.
My lips parted, but no sound came. "You lost a lot of blood," she continued gently, as if she didn't expect me to process half of it.
"That trap you stepped in....it was laced with wolfsbane."
I blinked sluggishly, trying to make sense of her words. Wolfsbane. Even hearing it made my stomach twist.
"You're lucky," she added, softer now. "It wasn't as effective on you since you don't have a wolf. But it still nearly killed you."
Huh?! So my "disability" is actually a superpower now? I'm immune to werewolf poison because I'm a "broken" shifter. I'll be sure to put that on my resume.
Should I be grateful for not having a wolf now?
Probably not.
Because if I had a wolf nothing like this wouldn't had happened. I would have had a loving family and a pack which respects me.
I didn't say a thing. My free hand moved without thinking, rising clumsily to my neck that itched.
My fingers brushed against rough bandages on my neck. The memories slammed back. Red eyes. Cold lips. Burning fire.
My breath caught and the doctor's eyes followed my hand. She froze before stepping closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Who marked you?"
"…What?"
Her gaze quickly flicked to my throat. "When Alaric brought you here, you were half-dead. He wouldn't leave your side.We thought it was just a bite from a wild animal at first… but two days ago, it began to change"
She looked me in the eyes as I struggled to understand what she was saying.
"It's forming into a mating mark."
My heart stopped. A mating mark? From the creepy shadow-monster with the bad hygiene?
Terrific. Just what every girl wants—to be "claimed" by a nightmare.
"No… no… no." I wasn't even eighteen. I hadn't found my mate—if I would even have one, considering my fate I don't even have a freaking wolf
"No one knows. Only me," Mrs. Sabrina whispered. "But Isabella… Do you know who did this to you?"
I shook my head. Red eyes and stupidly long hair. That was all I had.
"Whoever did this didn't just feed on you—it claimed you."
"Claimed" me. Like a lost umbrella or a piece of luggage. I pressed my fingers against the bandages.
"Don't let anyone see that mark," she warned. "Not your family. Not the pack. Do whatever you can to conceal it."
Easy for her to say. I'm basically walking around with a Property of the Bogeyman sign on my neck.