"He left because of you."

My mother's voice was the first thing I heard on my sixteenth birthday.

It was still dark outside, the world hadn't decided to wake up yet. A few rays slipped through the thin curtain, painting lights across the cracked walls of our little house.

But my mother had been awake for hours.

She always was on the seventh of August.

She would drink too much coffee and shout my father's voice until her throat hurt.

"Damiennn!!" She said his name like it was a curse.

Today was my birthday.

It's not like anyone cared.

Most especially my mother. She never will give a damn about anything that has to do with me.

What she does on this day, is look at me like I'm the reason her life fell apart. Like I chose to be born.

Like I asked to be the daughter my father didn't want.

"If only you had been a boy,"she muttered blowing on her third cup of coffee. Her eyes were bloodshot, her brown hair tangled all over her face. "He would have stayed. But you had to be a fuckin girl. A worthless girl."

I didn't bother responding. There was no point. I've heard it a thousand times. The words don't even cut anymore, they just settle into my bones like old bruises.

Some times I wonder why she kept me. She could have sent me away when I was little. Given me to another pack, a human family. Anyone.

Instead, she kept me around like a punching bag, she could take her anger out on whenever the memories became too painful.

My father didn't even reject her properly.

He just disappeared. The motherfucker one day just walked out the door.

And never came home.

No explanation, no goodbye. Not even a rejection of the mate bond.

That is what haunted my mother the most.

She could have survived being rejected. Atleast then she would have known he had chosen someone else.

But Damien, had left nothing but silence behind.

And somehow she had decided, it was my fault.

I turned away from her and opened the small wardrobe beside my bed.

Inside were three pairs of jeans, two hoodies and a handful of shirts that had seen better days.

I pulled on my darkest jeans, worn out from too many washes. The thrift store tags had been ripped off months ago.

But I could still feel the judgement to them.

charity case.

That's what they called me at school.

That's what he called me.

I grabbed my bag pack from the floor and slung it over my shoulders.

My mother didn't look up from her coffee. Ofcourse she didn't.

She never asked where I was going. Never asked when I would be back.

Sometimes I wondered if she secretly hoped that I would walk out the door one day and disappear like dad did.

"I'm going to school," I muttered more to myself than to her.

I waited for a response, I already knew wasn't coming.

The I left.

I had accepted my fate a long time ago.

Or at least I convinced myself I had.

* * *

The walk to school took thirty minutes.

I had no one who could drive me.

No money for bus.

And my shoes had gotten two sizes too small. Every step rubbed against my blisters but I had learned to ignore the pain.

Pain was easy to ignore when you've grown up with worse things.

But the time I reached school, the sun had climbed above trees.

Students crowded the parking lot, their laughter mixed with distant roar of motorcycles and the slam of car doors.

I kept my head down. Trying to take as little space as I could.

I was halfway through the gates when ...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

I jumped in shock.

But turned around and saw, Rhea shouting so loud, her voice was carried across the entire parking lot.

Several heads turned making me groan. I preferred being invisible.

"Rhea!"

She laughed and threw her hands around me.

Rhea was impossible to miss.

Rhea was tall, fierce, with dark hair that whipped around her face whenever the wind picked up. She wore her bomber jacket like she owned the entire school.

Technically, she almost did.

Her father was the Alpha of Crimson Ridge pack.

Her mother was the Luna.

Rhea had grown uo with everything I had soent my entire life learning not to want.

Money.

Status.

A family who loved her.

And somehow she was still the most ridiculous person, I had ever met.

Her grin widened.

"It's your birthday girl!" She squirmed.

"I know," I answered shyly.

"You're sixteen."

"I know that too."

She gasped dramatically. " Echo. Dont ruin my moment."

I burst into laughter, so hard my tummy hurt a lil. This kind of laugh only came when I was with Rhea.

Beside her stood Freya, smiling quietly.

Freya was the total opposite of Rhea.

Where Rhea was loud and fearless, Freya was quieter, softer. She had warm hazel eyes, freckles across her nose and cute dimples that appeared when ever she smiled.

ost especially with those little freckles on her nose and the cute dimples on both side of her face. She was a little bug.

She held a small gift bag, wrapped in purple tissue paper.

"We got you a little something," she said and my face faltered.

"You guys didn't have to ..."

"Shut up and just open it," Rhea groaned, shoving the bag into my arms.

I smiled in so much joy as i opened the gift. Inside the bag was a sliver bracelet with a tiny wolf charm dangling from it.

It was gorgeous, absolutely the most expensive thing I owned thanks to these girls.

My fingers trembled slightly as i touched the charm.

"Rhea, I can't..."

"You can and you will," her voice softened with tenderness.. "You're my best friend Echo. You deserve nice things just like everyone else does."

Freya nodded. "You deserve the best."

Something tightened in my chest. I blinked quickly refusing to let the tears escape.

"Thank you guys," I whispered.

Rhea wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "My mom is making your favourite cake tonight. You're coming over after school, right?"

"Actually ... ."

Her smile disappeared.

"I have to work "

"Echo?"

"I can't miss a shift."

"But it's your birthday."

"I know." I lowered my eyes.

Truth is I badly wanted to go.

I wanted to spend an evening somewhere laughter filled the rooms. Somewhere where I didn't have to worry, if my mom would come home sober tonight."

But my job paid for my second hand clothes.

My food.

My school supplies.

"I can't afford to miss a shift," I said quietly.

"After school, then. You could come, stay just for a few hours. Mom would kill me if I let you spend your birthday alone."

I opened my moyth to argue but Rhea was giving me those puppy eyes. "Please, Echo. Just a little while. We can watch a movie, eat cake and Ralph can drive you to work after."

"You know Ralph won't mind," Rhea added with googly eyes. "He would do anything for you."

"Ralph would do anything for you," I corrected just incase a passerby heard it and thought the wrong kind of things. "He's your brother."

"Same thing."

I rolled my eyes.

Rhea had been my best friend for years.

She knew about my mother.

And the bruises.

She knew how little food there was sometimes in our house.

When she found out, she wanted to tell her father.

Alpha Zev.

I had begged her not to.

Because no matter how horrible Mara Lowell could be, she was still my mother.

And I couldn't bring myself to be the reason she was punished.

"Fine. How about tomorrow?"

"Yess!" Rhea squirmed, she practically bounced on her feet. "I swear you won't regret it. You'll see." She pumped both fists in the air.

Freya giggled.

I shook my head as we headed toward the school building.

One could not believe this girl was actually an Alpha's daughter. She was too much and i loved her craziness.

Every bit of her.

* * *

Inside the hallway, was already packed. Students crowded around lockers, shouting over one another as the warning bell rang.

I followed my routine. kept my head down, eyes forward, dont attract attention, get to locker 257.

Grab my books, get to class.

Simple.

I almost made it.

I was half way down the East corridor, when....

POP!

Something exploded against my shoulder.

I froze as blue liquid splattered across my back, soaking my hoodie.

Then another one , green, then red.

Laughter erupted from behind me.

And I slowly turned.

Blair stepped from the trophy case, a cruel grin stretching on her face.

"Got her! Oh my gawd, did you see her face?"

Rory high fived Lucas. "Right in the back! That was perfect!"

They were already reachind for another handful of balloons.

I turned and ran.

But as always, my luck run out.

I didn't make it three steps. A balloon came flying toward my face.

I twisted away but my sneakers slipped on the floor.

The world titled before I hit the ground.

"Ohh, what a bummer. She fell!" Blair sang mocking me. "You okay down there, little Echo? Need a towel?"

I pushed myself up but my palms slipped against the wet tile. My Clothes clung to my skin, my hair dripped water on my face.

A group of fresh men passed by me like I was a puddle. No one helped. Because why would they?

I was Echo Lowell. The charity case.

The laughter around me slowly faded.

Not completely.

Just enough for me to hear the footsteps.

Slow, unhurried, the stride of someone who owned every second between.

Black designer sneakers, custom made. And stamped on the side with a single silver letter.

A

My stomach dropped. I knew those shoes. My eyes shifted upward and there he was... his dark hair slightly disheveled, a mop of soft waves falling across his face. A single silver ear stud glinted from his ear, so small you could easily miss it.

Ares freakin Greymoor.

He crouched down in front of me.

His storm grey eyes met mine, amusement flickering beneath the dark fall of his hair.

A dangerous, monstrous grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face.

His grin made it pretty obvious that he had been waiting exactly for this moment.

In his hands was a white paper bag.

My heart sank.

"Please dont.." I begged but the dimwit, tore the bag open.

Then he tipped it over my head.

A cloud of white flour, exploded across my face.

It filled my nose and mouth.

I coughed violently, squeezing my eyes shut, as flour coated my already wet hair and clothes, turning them into a sticky paste.

The hallway erupted in laughter.

Phones came out, some boys were whistling.

The he looked down at me and smirked.

"Happy birthday, loser!"​