ELSA

All I could hear was my own heavy breathing, the violent rush of wind past my ears, and the chief guard screaming orders behind me.

“Don’t let her escape! Get her!”

His voice echoed through the trees as more guards joined the chase.

I kept running—fast, but careful. I couldn’t afford a single mistake. One trip, one stumble, and the little infant cradled tightly in my arms could fall. Nothing mattered now except this baby’s life. If not for anyone else… then for my queen. This was the least I could do after failing to protect her.

“Get her!” The chief guard’s voice boomed again, much closer this time.

They were gaining on me. I couldn’t let them catch me. I couldn’t let them kill her—Cruella.

I pushed harder, deeper into the forest. Even though I knew it was forbidden. Neither vampires nor witches were allowed here. This was the sacred ground of the white wolves. Death waited for any outsider foolish enough to enter.

But I had no choice. And clearly, neither did the guards. They still chased me—even knowing their new queen would gladly take their heads if they returned empty-handed.

I glanced down at baby Cruella.

Still asleep… even through all this chaos. Peaceful. Unbothered.

Thank the goddess.

But then—

Silence.

The guards’ voices were gone.

White mist swept across the forest floor, rising quickly until it blurred my vision. My heart skipped. I knew what it meant.

I stopped immediately, squinting into the thickening fog. The guards must have stopped too—probably blinded, confused, and terrified.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

A familiar female voice drifted from somewhere in the mist—followed by low, threatening growls.

I still couldn’t see them, but I felt it—they had surrounded me. White wolves from every direction.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” I said, tightening my hold on Cruella. “But she should. Help me save her. Please.”

Golden eyes flickered to life around me—glowing pairs staring from all corners.

“And why should I do that? Why should we trust you?” Cecilia’s voice snapped sharply, and finally she stepped into view.

“Because we are both witches,” I answered quickly. “And just like you, she’s special. Her father was a powerful hybrid—you know what that means. You can’t let Sheila get to her. Please.”

I already knew I wouldn’t survive this forest. Entering it was a death sentence. But if Cruella lived, it would be worth the sacrifice.

Cecilia, a rare witch-wolf hybrid, was the guardian of this sacred ground. She controlled this mist—summoning it to blind intruders before the wolves attacked. She had probably seen everything through her magic.

I slowly stretched Cruella toward her, praying she’d understand.

The baby stirred in my arms and opened her eyes—bright, glowing sky-blue.

Cecilia let out a soft chuckle as she took her. “I guess she’s happy.”

She looked down at the child—Cruella, daughter of Queen Margery and King Arthur. Born of powerful blood.

“We must keep her identity a secret, if we want to protect her from Sheila,” Cecilia said, her expression darkening.

“You have my word,” I whispered.

Her next words chilled my blood.

“Which means… you can never leave this forest alive.”

My eyes widened.

“No—wait—!”

But before I could run or fight, three white wolves lunged at me. Their teeth sank into my flesh. Agony exploded through me. I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the mist and the tearing of my own body.

Cecilia turned away, protecting Cruella while I died.

It hurts—gods, it hurts.

But I was glad, at least, that Cruella would live.

If she lived… then Queen Margery’s bloodline lived.

And that was enough.

QUEEN MARGERY

THE ROYAL PALACE

Sheila’s heel tapped relentlessly against the floor as she waited. She had dreamed of this moment for a long, long time. Now that it was finally here, she wouldn’t allow even the smallest threat to her queenship.

The doors opened.

The chief guard entered with three others—blood smeared on his armor. Not his blood, unfortunately.

“My queen,” he bowed, the guards kneeling with him.

“Why are you empty-handed?” Sheila asked, her voice forced calm.

“She went into the dark forest, my queen.”

“And?” Sheila’s voice sharpened. “Is that supposed to be an excuse? I told you not to return without that woman!”

“My queen, forgive me—but she is likely dead already. The white wolves attacked us. Many of my men died. I’m sure they killed her as well.”

Sheila inhaled sharply, her eyes blazing with triumph.

“That better be true… or your head will hang on the gates.” She stormed out, guards scrambling after her.

She went straight to the dungeon.

The gates opened.

I looked up as she approached—my sister. Or the woman who used to be my sister.

“How do you like your new room?” she asked mockingly. “I hope they are treating you well.”

I didn’t answer.

“It’s a crime to ignore your queen,” she taunted. “Of course, you used to know all about that—since you once ruled.”

“How could you do this to me?” I whispered, my voice weak. “How could you betray your own family?”

“Family?” She laughed bitterly. “You stopped being my family the day you married the king.”

She crouched, bringing her face close to mine.

“It’s over, little sis. Your reign is over. And your precious daughter is dead—”

“No! You’re lying!” I cried out, tears burning down my cheeks.

“For once, I’m not,” she said coldly. “She’s dead—thanks to the white wolves. And tomorrow, you will join her.”

My breath caught—pain exploding in my chest.

She stood.

“Sleep well, little sis. Tomorrow you will lose your head.”

“No! Sheila! Come back! Don’t do this!” I screamed, but she walked away.

My daughter… my Cruella… gone?

No. No. No.

But deep in my heart, I felt the truth. I felt a hollow ache. The breaking.

It was over.

Sheila would take Greenville.

My child was gone.

And I… would die tomorrow.

EXECUTION DAY — MARGERY

Tears streamed down the faces of my people as they watched me being tied, prepared for execution. They wanted to help, but they couldn’t. Sheila had royal blood—legitimate heir since Cruella was believed dead.

“Civilians of Greenville,” Sheila announced proudly, “we gather to witness the death of Queen Margery. Let this be a lesson to anyone who betrays me!”

She sat down, smirking.

“If you have any last words, sister, now is the time.”

I said nothing.

What words could possibly fix this?

My daughter is gone.

My kingdom was stolen.

My own sister delivered my death.

If I had foreseen this, I would have killed her long ago. But I wasn’t a silver-haired witch who could see the future. I was just… ordinary.

Sheila gave the order.

The lever was pulled.

The floor beneath me dropped.

The rope tightened—

Pain. Burning. Choking.

My legs kicked helplessly.

The world dimmed.

Sheila smiled as she watched me die.

“Cut her down and bring me her head,” she ordered.

And just like that… darkness consumed me.

Far away, deep within a dark cave, a silver-haired witch watched everything through a glowing magic orb.

She smiled softly as she saw the guards behead me.

“And so it begins,” she whispered.

20 YEARS LATER

CRUELLA

**HUMAN WORLD**

“And that’s all for today,” Miss Cushion announced. Chairs scraped the floor as everyone rushed out of the lab.

Just as I stood up, she called, “Cruella, a word please.”

Of course. I already knew why she wanted to talk to me, but I stayed behind like the obedient student I always tried to be. If I wanted to survive in the human world, I had to adapt—and honestly, I’d been doing a decent job.

“I noticed your grades are slacking off this semester,” she said gently. “Should I be worried?”

I forced a small smile.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Miss Cush. I’m just… a little distracted.”

Miss Cush wasn’t just a teacher—she was a mother figure to me here. Aside from Swayer and Ethan, she was the only human who treated me kindly.

“Alright then. Let me know if you need anything,” she said with a warm smile.

I nodded and walked out, spotting Swayer leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed.

“Let me guess—your grades?” she asked.

I nodded again.

“I told you to stop worrying about Maeve and focus on your studies. If you fail this last semester, you can forget graduation,” she scolded.

She had no idea that Maeve was the least of my problems. Every morning I woke up hoping something—anything—would change. That my powers would finally awaken so I could return to Greenville. But every day was the same disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll study more,” I muttered.

Swayer grinned and grabbed my hand.

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day! What are you doing? We could go shopping. Oh! There’s a frat party at Jada’s!”

“I don’t like parties,” I said quietly. The last one didn’t end well. Maeve had embarrassed me in front of everyone, reminding me how useless I was—even in the human world.

Sometimes I wished I was never born. On my eighteenth birthday, when my wolf side was supposed to emerge, nothing happened. Days passed. Then months. Two whole years later—still nothing.

I tried witch school. Failed every spell.

I wasn’t an Elite vampire either.

With no powers at all, they assumed I was human—and to “protect Greenville,” they banished me to the human world. My powerlessness meant I couldn’t find my way back.

“Ella! Are you even listening?!” Swayer shouted.

I snapped back to reality.

“Sorry—what were you saying?”

She sighed dramatically. “What is going on with you? We’ve been friends for three years, and I still feel like you’re hiding something. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” I whispered. “I just… some things are better kept in the dark.”

She didn’t push further. Instead, we walked to the cafeteria.

As soon as we entered, Maeve spotted us. She got up with a can of orange juice in her hand and strutted toward us.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said with a smirk.

“What is it now, Maeve?” Swayer snapped.

“I was going to bother loser Ella, but hey—two for one.”

I felt something inside me snap. I was tired—tired of being treated like trash, tired of being powerless. Today, I wasn’t letting her walk all over me.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked calmly. “Is your life so miserable that you have to share it with others?”

Maeve’s eyes widened. Swayer’s jaw practically hit the floor. I had never talked back before.

“What did you just say to me?” Maeve hissed. She immediately spilled her orange juice all over my shirt.

“Maeve! Are you crazy?!” Swayer yelled.

But I didn’t move. Something strange and hot was stirring inside me, building like pressure. A burning sensation crawled through my veins.

Before I understood what I was doing, my hand flew up and slapped her.

A simple slap.

But she crashed to the floor.

Gasps echoed through the cafeteria. Even I froze, shocked.

Maeve jumped up, furious and embarrassed. She lunged at me, but Ethan grabbed her from behind.

“That’s enough. You started it,” he said.

“I’ll kill your useless girlfriend! Let go!” she screamed, struggling wildly.

Swayer grabbed my hand and dragged me outside.

“We’ll just eat out. We have an hour before our next class.”

I barely heard her. I stared at my hands, breathless, a smile creeping across my face.

“Is this it? Did I finally get powers?” I whispered.

“Powers? What are you talking about?” Swayer laughed. “I’m just shocked you slapped Maeve. That was epic!”

“It just… happened. I don’t know how.”

“Well, you need to avoid Maeve now. She’ll definitely come for revenge,” she warned.

But my mind was far away. If this was the beginning of my powers… I could finally go home. I could finally belong. I could finally stop being the weak, powerless girl everyone mocked.

But what about Swayer? What about Ethan? Leaving the human world meant leaving them forever.

“Swayer,” I said softly, “don’t take this seriously, but… what if there was another world? One is different from this one. A place with people who had special abilities. Would you want to go there?”

“You mean like witches and vampires?” she asked.

“Yes. And werewolves,” I said, unable to hide my excitement.

She laughed. “Ella, those things only exist in fantasy books.”

“But what if they were real? Just hidden from humans?”

“I think we should go eat instead of talking about fairytales,” she said, pulling me along.

I swallowed my frustration. She wouldn’t believe me—not until I had proof. Real proof. Powers, a shift, anything.

I never even knew my real parents. My adoptive mother reminded me constantly that I wasn’t her blood. I didn’t know if I came from werewolves, witches, or vampires.

“Just a little longer,” I whispered to myself. “And you’ll believe me.”

TRIGGER WARNING: CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN SEXUAL ASSAULT AND NON-CONSENSUAL ACTS. READERS DISCRETION ADVISED!

CRUELLA

I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to muffle the thunderous bass vibrating through the frat house walls. I should never have come here. But Swayer had begged, Ethan had convinced me, and—like always—I caved.

Swayer disappeared the moment we arrived, swept away into the crowd by the music while I awkwardly stood alone. I spotted Ethan in a corner with his friends, laughing and drinking like he had no worries in the world.

“Babe, come over here!” Ethan called out, gesturing with a lazy wave.

I walked toward him slowly. His friends drifted away, giving us space. He offered me a drink, but I shook my head. I don’t drink. I wanted to say it, but I didn’t want to seem boring.

“Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he said with that smile that always melted me. “Have fun… be free. Let tomorrow take care of itself.”

So I accepted the drink.

The moment I took a sip, he leaned closer. “Should we go upstairs?”

My brows are knitted. “Upstairs? Why…?”

He smirked. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t know why. It’s Valentine’s night.”

My heart dropped. “A-are we doing it now?”

He stood immediately, setting down his cup. When he offered me his hand, I hesitated—but only for a second. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t love him.

So I took it.

He led me to a room on the first floor, closed the door, and his lips crashed against mine—hungry, aggressive, impatient. His mouth was everywhere, his hands were everywhere, and I couldn’t get a proper breath in. He tasted like alcohol, and his touch felt… wrong. Too rushed. Too forceful.

When he finally broke the kiss, I gasped for air as he stripped off his shirt. I glanced around nervously at the unfamiliar room.

“What if the owner walks in?” I whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Are you just making excuses?” he snapped. “If you want to stop, say it.”

His expression told me exactly what would happen if I said no.

So I swallowed down my fear. “…I want to do it. Just… It's my first time. Please be gentle.”

His smile softened—as if he truly cared—but the way he touched me said otherwise. His hands roamed, hurried and rough. When his fingers brushed my most sensitive place, I gasped and instinctively pulled away. He didn’t stop. He lifted me, carried me to the bed, and laid me down.

My heart was hammered painfully.

Is this right? Am I ready?

But I’d already agreed.

He undressed me piece by piece. My hands trembled. My body shook. He didn’t soothe me or slow down. I wasn’t even wet—my body wasn’t ready—but he didn’t care.

He took off his pants, climbed over me, and positioned himself.

“E-Ethan—” I began.

The sharp, tearing pain cut my words off.

“Ouch!” I gasped.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t ask if I was okay. He just kept thrusting, faster, harder, ignoring my pleas.

“Wait—wait, please—Ethan, stop—” Tears blurred my vision. “I don’t want to anymore.”

Finally, he stopped. Looked down at me with a fake worried expression. “Sorry. I must’ve lost control.”

“I don’t want to continue,” I whispered through tears.

He sighed, forcing a gentle tone. “Just give me a little more time… I’ll finish soon.”

His mouth kissed me softly, deceptively tender, while his hips continued moving.

I shut my eyes and endured the pain.

When he came, his warm release spilling into me, I exhaled shakily. It was over. But the ache between my thighs lingered, throbbing with every breath.

He pulled out, dressed without a second glance, and tossed my clothes toward me.

“You should get dressed before the owner comes,” he said dryly.

And then he just… left.

I dressed alone, feeling empty and numb.

Did I do the right thing?

No—

He loves me, I reminded myself.

Stop thinking negatively, Cruella.

I forced myself downstairs.

Swayer spotted me instantly. Her face twisted in worry as she hurried over.

“Ella, where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick.”

I scoffed. “Really? You looked like you were having fun without me.”

She blinked, confused, eyes scanning my body. “Are you okay? You look… shaken.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“What about Ethan? Did you see—”

I walked away before she finished.

THE NEXT DAY

The moment Swayer and I entered the lecture hall, whispers erupted around us.

“She’s the one, isn’t she?”

“I thought she was decent.”

“Such a shameless slut.”

I frowned. Who are they talking about?

Then I noticed the stares—sharp, judgmental, glued to me.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” I muttered.

Swayer was scrolling her phone, but suddenly she gasped, covering her mouth.

“What?” I asked.

She turned her screen toward me.

My world stopped.

It was a video.

My video.

Last night.

Ethan. Me. The bed. All of it.

And the views were skyrocketing—over a million already.

“No… no, no—how…?” Tears spilled down my cheeks. I felt my chest tighten. My stomach dropped. “How did this even happen…?”

Swayer looked at me with broken hope. “Cruella… tell me this isn’t you. Tell me it’s fake.”

I bolted out of the hall, sobbing, barely seeing where I was going. I crashed into someone in the doorway and staggered back.

Ethan.

His face was cold, empty—like I was a stranger.

My voice shook. “Was that you? Did you record and post that video?”

Please say no. Please love me. Please—

“Yes, I did,” he said flatly. “So what?”

My heart shattered.