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Unique, Different, Found

Violet Samuels




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  Copyright © 2015 by VioletSamuels

  All Rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of BLVNP Inc. For more information contact BLVNP Inc. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  DISCLAIMER

  Please don’t be stupid and kill yourself. This book is a work of FICTION.

  It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.

  Nightfall Series

  Unique, Different, Found

  By: Violet Samuels

  ISBN: 978-1-68030-145-8

  © VioletSamuels 2015

  It would be my greatest honour to dedicate this book to my friends and family who pushed me to write this book when I thought I couldn't.

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  1

  CELINA

  Have you ever felt like you can never escape? Have you ever felt like there is no one there for you? Have you ever felt like the whole world is against you and you just want to get away and be free? Have you ever felt that you can never be loved or cherished?

  That's my life.

  I feel all of these things. You can't change what fate has in store for you. But sometimes, I wish I could just be free and live my own life. I haven't been able to do that for a total of nine years.

  My mother and father died when I was seven. I was abandoned and left with my godforsaken pack. I had no regrets when my mother and father died. I spent every second of every day with them, and they never argued. We didn't have any major fights and we all loved each other so much. I didn't think my parents had any regrets either. I think they made the mistake of leaving me alone though.

  You're probably wondering why I'm blaming it on them, aren't you? Well, I don't. I blame my pack for being worthless, unfair, stupid and plain right mean. Childish I know, but true, down to the last detail. Every beating, every bruise, every broken bone and every possible evidence of them abusing me supports that horrid theory.

  Ever since my parents died, I've been like a slave to the people I call my pack. I cook, wash, clean, organize and pretty much do everything for them. They throw away money like it's no big deal, and they don't spare a second glance to anyone who's 'lower' than them.

  Someone like me.

  All the wolves in my pack are gorgeous with either brown or blonde fur and have a mix of either blue, green, brown, or almost black eyes. Having plain blue or green eyes is rare. They have slim or muscular bodies, and have the perfect height just to be much taller than humans. Unfortunately, that beauty is tainted by their bitter egos and cold hearts.

  My parents were like the pack looks wise, but not personality wise. My parents were kind and thoughtful, always putting others before themselves. They never should've been in this pack in the first place.

  The funny thing is, I look nothing like my parents, or anyone in the pack for that matter.

  Instead of blonde or brown hair, mine is pitch black, pin straight and comes down to just below my shoulders. My eyes are a shining gold that lost its shine many years ago, so now it looks like a light shade of mud. My lips are almost red and, strangely, my skin is pale. I'm not sure why... Werewolves usually have beautifully tanned skin. I'm also a bit shorter than everyone else, but I still have that slim body that anyone would die for. In my parents' opinion, being different is what makes you special. What makes you special, is what makes you unique.

  I've never believed it though. All it has ever done was got me teased, and pushed around for being ‘different’ and 'unique'. It has always been like that. Even with my parents, they always said the pack was just jealous of my obvious beauty, one that I am oblivious to.

  Another thing. When I turned sixteen, I made sure I was far away from the pack house, almost on the borders of our territory. The reason? I was shifting. I didn't want to give everyone the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, and watching my every bone break after the other. I can honestly say that it is the most painful thing you will ever experience in your life.

  When I shifted, I discovered that my wolf was snow white. Not one trace of color other than white covered me. I was astounded. I had never seen a white wolf. Even my mother’s and my father’s wolves were brown and blonde, respectively. They told me that when I shifted to never show to anyone my wolf, unless they have my full trust. Nobody has.

  I don't know what it means to have a pure white wolf, but I know that I'm different yet again. This time, in a way, I thought I could somehow fit into my pack. I thought wrong. When I came back, I got a beating because I was gone for most of the day, and everyone missed lunch and breakfast. That night, I had to make a three-course meal instead of the usual one, and I had to clean the house until it was spotless. Let's just say I stayed up way past midnight...

  I haven't been for a run since. That was three weeks ago. My wolf has been howling in my head, and it feels like she's scratching my insides apart. I badly want to let her out, but I'm too scared. I don't want to get beaten up again.

  My wolf has told me multiple times to get away, and I've been considering it for months now. Tonight's the night. I'm leaving. I'm ditching this stupid place and leaving for good. When I told my wolf, she was practically jumping with joy.

  I'm making the dinner right now. Although this pack has treated me like nothing, I'm gonna give them something to remember me by, and if that means food, then so be it.

  I decide to make one of my favorite courses. For entree, bruschetta with mini prawn cocktails. For main, lasagna with garlic bread. Then for dessert, my personal favorite, chocolate mud cake with whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate covered strawberries on top. If it was me, I would just skip the entree and main and go straight for the dessert.

  I set the table for the pack, and as soon as I finish placing the last of the entrees on the table, they walk in through the door. As soon as they get a whiff, they come barging into the dining room, taking a seat and digging in. No 'thank you' or 'this is nice', just like the usual.

>   I always keep a spare bit of dessert for myself after I finish cooking, so while the rest of the pack eats, I tuck into my mud cake. At least they let me eat, I guess.

  When I hear the bell, I walk back out and collect the empty plates, taking them back into the kitchen. To let them digest a bit, I wash it all up and place it on the drying rack.

  I come back out with the last of the mains and am about to walk out when Tina, the pack slut, calls my name.

  "Celina!"

  I slowly turn around, keeping my hands behind my back, and my head bowed. I'm wearing the correct uniform for serving dinner, and my hair is neatly pulled back into a high pony tail, so I'm not sure what she wants. Whenever someone in the pack calls my name, it's usually because I'm in trouble.

  "Why the whole ‘fancy-fancy’ food? Is it a special occasion? Let me guess... Is it for Damon's birthday? A little present from you?" She snickers at me. I feel all eyes turn to me, but I obediently keep my head down. Damon is the soon to be alpha of our pack and is turning eighteen in about four days. It's a big thing and I'm supposed to cook for it...

  "I guess you could consider it that. If the alpha is kind enough to accept my gift, of course," I answer in a small voice. I was told from the beginning to address Damon as alpha and nothing else, unlike the rest of the pack.

  The room falls silent as every eye turns to Damon, who's sitting at the head of the very large dining table. I look through my long, black lashes to see his face. I'm met with a considering expression.

  He nods his head once. "I accept your gift. I will expect a grander and more appropriate gift on my actual birthday though. Do you understand?" His tone's filled with power and authority.

  "Yes, alpha, I understand," I say, returning to my former position with my head down.

  "Good. Now, off you go." He shoos me off and as soon as I enter the kitchen, I hear their laughs and snickers. I will myself not to cry. I've shed too many tears over these heartless people.

  They soon finish their meals and it’s time for dessert. I've finished mine by now, so I place theirs on the table with a blank face. They eat up and by the time everyone has finished and has stayed around talking, I've cleared the large table and washed up.

  I enter back into the dining room, and wait in my usual spot by the door of the kitchen. Every night before I go to bed, I either get hit or nothing for the meals I've cooked. It's the same with breakfast, lunch, and any other meals they eat. As each one walks out of the room, I either get shoved or ignored. Which means they liked my cooking. Tina, on the other hand, slaps me across the face. You probably think that's harsh, but that's equivalent to someone else's shove. So just imagine what someone else's slap is to her. It's not a pretty sight.

  Damon is the last to leave and he stops in front of me. I cautiously lift my head and stare into his beautiful blue-green eyes. He has a blank face, as do I. We stare at each other for a moment before he walks out and leaves me alone in the dining room to fix up.

  Damon has been my crush since I was about ten, even though he treats me like the worthless thing I am. His brown hair and blue-green eyes are the main aspects that draw me and many other female wolves in. He hasn't found his mate yet either, which means he's available. He wouldn't go for me though. Not in a million years. I'm too different.

  I head to bed in the early hours of the night. The pack no longer requires me after about 7:30pm, so I am ordered to bed, which I quickly oblige, so as not to get beaten. I still have bruises from the worst ones.

  The sad thing is, I believe everything my pack had said since my parents died. That I'm not beautiful, but ugly. That I'm not unique, but different. That I'm not a part of their family, but their slave.

  I sigh as I enter my makeshift room. It's bare, except for a large window that lets the moonlight from the full moon flood into my room. My bed is pretty much a sheet on the hard, splintered, wooden floor, and my pillow is a pillow cover stuffed with newspaper.

  I won't be sleeping there tonight though. Not anymore. Not ever again.

  I pack what little belongings I have into a sack. A pair of worn out jeans, an oversized shirt with holes in it, a skirt, one other shirt that appears to be clean, and a pair of socks. I don't own any shoes.

  I grab the only piece of jewelry I have, my mother’s silver necklace, with her and my father's names engraved into the heart-shaped pendant. The pendant has a yin and yang symbol in it, but it's made with little black and white crystals. I slip it into my shirt and proceed to the window.

  I open it wide, and without a glance back, or second thought, I jump. I jump to my freedom and my new life.

  I shift into my snow white wolf and take off with my sac in my mouth. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I can survive. I am only a newly shifted wolf at the age of sixteen.

  What I do know? I'll never have to see my 'pack' again. That is enough to make me smile slightly in my wolf form. As I cross the border of the territory, my wolf lets out a howl, filled with happiness and joy.

  We're free. I'm free.

  Never again will we have to face the Moonlight pack.

  2

  CELINA

  I pick up speed as I launch through the trees. I let my wolf instincts take over and let her guide me.

  I've been running for a few hours now and I'm just starting to feel the effects of it. For those few hours, I've been running in no man’s land. I'm not sure if I'm going around in circles or if this land is really big. Maybe it's just me...

  I finally cross a border in the early hours of the morning. I'm not sure if they have patrollers or not, but I sure hope they don't. I think this pack is the Greenwood Pack. They're not vicious or well known or anything really. They're just sort of there. I make it through their territory easily, which probably isn't the best for them if anybody plans to attack them.

  This is the same for the next few territories. The Fire Pack had a few wolves chasing me down. Well, more like tracking my scent after I was long gone. Nobody's seen my wolf so far...

  I'm once again on no man’s land, but this is just a thin strip. About a kilometer wide, maybe? Anyway, I've been running for more than a good twelve hours. I think I deserve a rest after sprinting most of that.

  I settle down by a nearby stream and shift back into my battered human form. I quickly pull on my old baggy top and worn out jeans. I sit down by the stream and let my feet flow with the water. I rest my head on my shoulder and lean on my arms as I soak up the heat of the sun.

  I smile slightly. So long, it's been so long since I could just relax, and not wait around fearful for the next beating to come.

  I sit there for a few minutes before my stomach growls. I groan. Food! Why didn't I think of bringing food with me? I sigh and take my clothes off again, shifting into my wolf. Too late now. I'm not really one to hunt in wolf form... After all, yesterday was only the second time I shifted.

  I continue on my run for freedom and reach the next pack's territory. I stop at the border and notice a few wolves lurking in the shadows, trying to be discreet. I look around for something to disguise myself in. What? I can't just waltz in there! What if they catch me and question me about the color of my wolf?

  I just roll in some mud after spotting it and make my fur look brownish. I wait for it to dry before hiding behind a bush, ready to run at any moment.

  I watch the shadows and spot some of the same wolves as before. A few more minutes pass before they move on, maybe switching shifts. I take the opportunity.

  I break out into a full blown sprint, right through the middle of their territory. I don't stop when I hear howls of alarm from the new wolves that have taken over the section of the border I just crossed, probably smelling my scent. No, I keep running.

  What I definitely don't expect is to be nearly tackled to the ground by a sandy colored wolf. It growls at me with its teeth bared, and makes a move to lunge for me, but I jump out of the way and take off sprinting again. The wolf lets out a howl and I hear the heavy fall of
paws close behind me. I think about four or five wolves are trailing behind me at the moment.

  I pick up speed, begging my wolf to go faster. She whimpers, but increases her speed.

  'Come on! We need to get out of here!' I scream at her as I make a sharp right and then left, trying to lose the wolves behind me. It doesn't work.

  'I'm trying! I don't think I can go any faster!' she screams back in panic. As her panic overtakes her, my panic overtakes me as well. What if they catch us? What if I don't make it? What if they kill us?

  That thought strikes home and my wolf pushes to go faster and faster. I hear the fall of paws getting softer and softer in the distance.

  'We're gonna make it!' I cry in relief, and we did.

  Just as we burst through the border, I see that wolves line in it, for as far as the eye can see. The sandy one stands tall and proud in the middle of the line. Its light brown eyes penetrate my gold ones.

  Its head cocks to the side as it observes me. My earlier relief washes away as he takes a cautious step over the border. I take an equal two steps backward and he stops immediately. I stare at him with fear in my eyes and he stares back at me with confusion.

  He backs up into the border and ducks behind a tree. He emerges again with a pair of shorts on and in human form.

  He has the usual blonde hair, more sandyish though like his wolf's, and light brown eyes. He's fairly tanned and looks about 19 or 20, I'm not sure. He has a built body, but not really the bulky or lean type. Just right, some people would say. Overall, I would class him as cute.

  He steps over the border once again, approaching me. I take another step back and he freezes.