Aya

The turmoil in my life began long before Cliffe came into it. As a child, betrayal and blood shattered my world. My uncle, consumed by greed and desperation, kidnapped me in the dead of night. His scheme crumbled as quickly as it began, he drank himself to death in a sleazy bar, leaving me abandoned in a dingy motel, terrified and alone.

For days, I wandered the streets, cold and starving, until a couple found me. They called me Rachel and took me in as their own. But luck turned its back on me again when my foster mother finally bore a child of her own.

One crisp autumn morning, my foster father packed my belongings into a small bag and led me to the train station. We rode in silence for hours until we arrived in the city. He left me in front of a decrepit building, my world tilting on its axis.

“This will be your home now,” he said with finality. No goodbye. No second glance. Just the sound of his retreating footsteps.

I stood frozen, clutching the bag of everything I owned, tears burning my cheeks. Then, through the iron fence, a boy’s voice broke the silence.

“Hey! What’s your name? Did your pack abandon you too?”

He was all wiry limbs and messy hair, his grin wide and mischievous. I hesitated, searching for something real in the chaos.

“I’m Aya,” I whispered. The name tasted foreign, but familiar enough.

“Cliffe,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. The pack didn’t want me either. But I’ll take care of you.”

And he did.

I was confused at what he meant by pack and later came to find out he was a werewolf, most of our siblings at the orphanages were wolves.

Life in the orphanage was brutal. The scent of unwashed bodies and despair clung to the air. Fights broke out over scraps of food, dominance battles where strength ruled. But Cliffe was my shield, always stepping in before anyone dared lay a hand on me.

We became inseparable, a young wolf and a weak human girl against the world. He taught me to fight, to survive. The bond we shared was fierce, unbreakable… or so I thought.

Over time, Cliffe changed. He grew distant, his fierce protectiveness replaced by something colder, guarded. I had confessed my feelings for him one day out of the blue and he shut it down with I would grow out of it… but I knew I wouldn't.

Then she arrived, Evelyn Morten. Her presence was electric, commanding, the kind that turned heads and silenced rooms.

I watched helplessly as Cliffe gravitated toward her, caught in her orbit. I should’ve hated her, but how could I? She was everything I wasn’t… strong, confident, magnetic and a Beta wolf. I was just the girl left behind.

The night everything fell apart, the air smelled of rain and regret. I sat in the shadows of my room staring blankly at my plants on the windowsill.

They were my sanctuary, my pride. Soon, they’d belong to someone else. Maybe they always had.

I had gone to clean up my leg at the hospital and they gave me some drugs to ease the pain with a neat dressing, the glaring white bandage stared back at me with pity.

My phone buzzed, dragging me back to reality. A message from my editor glared on the screen:

[Aya, where’s your update? Readers are waiting. You’re late again.]

I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed a curt reply. [It’ll be up tonight.]

Back in my apartment, the memories clawed at me as I opened my laptop. My novel… my novel, a story of two wolves who found solace in each other… It was a lie. My characters had a love I’d never know.

The comments beneath my latest chapter blurred together.

“When will they realize they’re mates?”

“Don’t let them drift apart! They deserve happiness!”

“Please, no sad endings. My heart can’t take it!”

They didn’t know the truth, sometimes, love wasn’t enough.

I typed furiously, my fingers trembling as the words poured out.

“Chapter Title: The Final Goodbye.”

It was late when I finished. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I pulled out the old photo album hidden in my drawer.

Each snapshot was a dagger to my heart, Cliffe in the kitchen, his hair damp from the rain. Cliffe laughing, his head thrown back, his eyes full of life. Cliffe asleep on the couch, the moonlight framing his face.

I gripped the scissors tightly, the urge to cut him out of my life overwhelming. But the buzzing of my phone stopped me.

It was my friend Caroline.

“Aya, have you seen the news?” Caroline’s voice was frantic, her words tumbling out.

“What news?”

“You’re trending,” she said, her tone heavy. “Someone filmed you outside Cliffe’s engagement announcement last night. Evelyn’s fans are all over it.”

My stomach twisted as I opened the app. The top tag was a knife through my chest: #CliffeAndEvelynForever.

But it was the second hashtag that destroyed me: #Cliffe’sPatheticStray.

Photos of me crying outside the building, clutching the gift I got for him, filled the screen. The comments were a feeding frenzy:

“Cliffe’s pity project is still clinging to him? How pathetic.”

“She’s so desperate. Evelyn is his mate; she needs to back off.”

“Some strays just don’t know when to leave.”

My vision blurred. My hands shook.

I stared at my reflection in the window, a hollow shell of the girl I used to be. Cliffe had been my everything. Now, I was nothing.

The night air was sharp as I stepped onto the balcony, the city lights stretching endlessly before me. For years, I’d clung to the hope that he’d look back, that I’d still matter.

But hope was a cruel lie.

The wind carried a whisper, a reminder of the person I’d lost and the one I’d never truly had.

After I had finished settling everything, I'll leave.

And I wouldn’t look back.

Aya

My fingers trembled as I walked past the pack hall, some of the maids and pack members gathered around in groups and gossiped about the situation between myself, cliffe and Evelyn. I never thought hateful remarks about me would affect me the way they did.

I didn’t know which hurt more, the pain in my feet or the one in my heart.

“Does anyone else think Aya looks a bit like Beta Evelyn? She has freckles under her eye, too!” One pack member chimed.

“Really? Freckles aren’t rare. If every girl with one looked like Beta Evelyn, we’d have a thousand knockoffs running around.” Another person replied in irritation.

“Let’s make Alpha Cliffe see sense and send her packing. À lowly human girl like her doesn’t belong anywhere near him!”

“If she won’t leave, we’ll stage a protest outside their house. She won’t dare show her face.” À maid said loudly and all the others cheered in agreement.

Each cruel word felt like a dagger to my chest. I quickly rushed over to the alpha’s cabin where me and cliffe stayed and immediately I went inside, I knelt to the floor crying and my eyes drifted to the old photograph on my desk, a group of children from the orphanage, smiling despite our worn clothes. At the center stood Cliffe, his arm protectively around my small shoulders. We had both been abandoned, but Cliffe’s quiet strength had carried me through those dark days.

Now, the man who once shielded me had allowed me to be exposed. The photo’s leak could only have come from two people, him or Evelyn.

The betrayal was suffocating.

My phone rang.

“Aya, are you okay?” Caroline’s voice crackled through the phone, brimming with concern.

“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

“Don’t lie to me,” she pressed. “Do you want me to come over? I can catch the next train.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I need to handle this alone.”

After hanging up, I dialed Cliffe’s number. The first call went unanswered. By the third attempt, my frustration morphed into desperation. Finally, his deep, detached voice came through.

“Aya, I’m busy. What’s the matter?”

“Did you see the photo?” I asked, my voice trembling. “The one Evelyn posted online?”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “Aya, Evelyn didn’t mean anything by it. She was just reminiscing about our past.”

“Reminiscing?” My voice broke. “That picture has people calling me a parasite, Cliffe! How can you defend her?”

“I’m not defending anyone,” he replied, his tone calm, almost disinterested. “I’ll handle it when I’m back.”

“Handle it?” My grip on the phone tightened. “You’ve already let her tear my life apart. What else is there to handle?”

Cliffe’s voice cooled. “Don’t be dramatic, Aya. I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I? Don’t let this get to you.”

The words stung worse than the hateful comments online and around the pack house . “Taken care of me?” I whispered. “So you keep a record of everything you do for me?.”

But the line went dead.

I didn’t know him anymore.

That night, I tossed and turned, memories flooding my mind. Cliffe had once been my rock, my protector. Now, he seemed like a stranger.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through my window, but it felt cold. My phone buzzed with unread messages:

[caroline: Aya, the photos are gone. Someone must have pulled strings. Maybe Cliffe does care more than you think?]

[Evelyn: Did Cliffe clean up your mess? Must be nice to have him wrapped around your finger.]

My jaw tightened. Cliffe didn't have the power to do that, he was only the newly ascended alpha of the crimson moon pack and not the alpha of the obsidian pack or the darkcrest pack—the top packs. He didn’t have the power to hush the wolf and human communities.

My phone went off.

It was my sister.

“Hey baby sis. Are you good?” Vivian’s voice came from the other side and I felt like bursting into tears because of the warmth in her tone.

“Yeah, I am," I said, managing to keep my emotions in check as I walked into my bathroom to wash my face.

“Do you need me to book a flight ticket for you or can you do it yourself?” She said and I could hear the sharp clicking of keyboard keys from her end.

“It’s fine I can do it myself, I’ll be back soon I just need time to round up here.”

The clicking stopped and silence ensued for a while before she continued “Ok… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aya

I was about to leave my room to get a bit of fresh air when Cliffe appeared, leaning casually against my door frame. His dark hair was disheveled, his expression unreadable.

“Who were you talking to on the phone?” he asked, his tone sharp.

I froze. “You misheard,” I replied quickly. “I was watching a video.”

Before he could respond, Evelyn’s soft voice called from the kitchen.

“Cliffe, breakfast is ready! Is Aya coming down?”

Evelyn stepped into view, radiant as always, her smile dripping with false sweetness. “Good morning, Aya! I made sandwiches… your favorite! Cliffe told me what you liked.”

I clenched her fists. “You two enjoy,” I said coldly. “I’m not hungry.”

As I turned to leave, Cliffe grabbed her arm. “Don’t be rude,” he said, frowning. “Evelyn went out of her way to make this for you. The least you could do is sit down.”

My laugh was sharp and bitter. “Rude? You’re calling me rude?”

Cliffe’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m tired, Cliffe,” I said, my voice trembling. “Tired of being the one who always gets hurt while you make excuses for her. Tired of being invisible unless it’s convenient for you.”

His gaze dropped to my hand, where faint scars from our childhood still lingered. For a moment, something softened in his expression, but Evelyn quickly stepped between us, her voice dripping with concern.

“Take a look at my leg! Where she spilled hot tea on and the porcelain cut my skin.” I screamed. “Did you bother to check up on me again?” There was a tinge of guilt in his eyes as he glanced at my bandaged feet.

“Aya, I’m so sorry if I upset you,” she said, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I just wanted to share a piece of Cliffe’s past. I didn’t realize it would cause so much trouble…”

My chest burned with suppressed anger. “Save it, Evelyn,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of your games.”

Evelyn’s face fell, her lips parting in a practiced look of hurt. Cliffe glanced between us, torn.

“Aya,” he began, his tone softer now. “Don’t do this.”

But I shook her head, stepping back. “No, Cliffe. You don’t do this. Don’t pretend you care when you’ve made it clear where your loyalties lie.”

Before he could respond, I turned and walked out the door, the cool morning air rushing against my face. For the first time in years, I felt free.