Elle POV
12 years old
The bright fluorescent lights slowly pull me from the dark abyss of nothing I have been stuck in for Goddess knows how long. I open my eyes slowly so they can adjust to the lights in the white room. A small space that smells like it's doused in bleach daily. Five different machines are placed around the room in specific spots in need of importance.
Looking around, I see three figures standing at the edge of the room, whispering amongst themselves, not realizing I have woken yet. I am trying to focus on what they're saying, but I can't decipher their words. However, I can feel the power rolling off the large male and the beautiful blonde woman standing at his side.
"Look, Charles, she's up," The middle-aged woman says to the man standing to her right. Her voice is melodic, like an angel's song, and it's comforting. I've heard it before, but I can't remember from where. Without a second thought, I knew I could trust the woman and the man standing next to her.
As they come closer to me, I can finally catch their scent, and with theirs comes the faintest whiff of sandalwood and eucalyptus. It makes my mouth water, but I can tell that scent isn't coming from any of those standing in the room with me. Who does it belong to?
"Hello, Elle." the oldest man in the room says. I am guessing a doctor based on his uniform, "My name is Dr. Gibbs; how are you feeling today?" he asks, showing his kindness with a gentle tone.
"Thirsty," I croak out, my throat scratchy and sore. I wonder how long I have been unconscious and in this hospital. What happened? Where am I? And why can't I remember anything other than my name, which I only know because the man in front of me told me so?
The blonde-haired woman, whose name I haven't learned yet, rushes off to get me a glass of water, hurrying back to hand it to me. Charles's gaze hadn't left my body since he stepped closer to me, watching me with interest making me nervous from the intensity of it.
"Enough, Charles," The woman says, smacking his arm playfully, "you'll scare the poor girl." she finishes before looking at me with a smile, and I suddenly feel at ease again.
"Are you my parents?" I ask them, but I can tell from the saddened looks on their faces that they are not. Hell, we don't even look alike. Both of them are blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshells. I don't remember what color my eyes are, but I can tell my hair is red from how it spills over my shoulders onto my chest.
"No, dear," the blonde woman says, again speaking for the couple. Or I assume they are a couple with the way he has his arm draped across her shoulders possessively.
"We are Alpha Charles and Luna Olivia from the New Moon Pack. You do remember that you're a werewolf, correct?" She asks tentatively, worried that she may have revealed too much too soon.
"Yes," I respond after thinking for a moment, trying to remember the things I know about myself. "I know I am a werewolf. I know my favorite color is green, and my favorite tv show is Gilmore Girls. I know that I like banana peppers on my pepperoni pizza."
"That's good," The doctor chimes with a smile, "what don't you know?" He asks as he grabs the clipboard pen in hand to take more notes on my condition.
"Who my parents are, what pack I am from, how old I am on my birthday, or anything else important to tell me who I am." I sigh, starting to feel defeated when I can't seem to recall these details. My memory is one foggy blank. "How did you know my name?" I ask them, feeling skeptical of their intentions.
"We found this on you," the gruff man says for the first time as he hands me a small blue velcro wallet. Opening it, I find a library card with a picture of a preteen-year-old girl on the front. The girl has red hair, the same shade as mine, bright green eyes, plump pink lips, and a button nose with freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheekbones. The Name "Elle Davidson" is printed underneath.