CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO AMERICA
Some things existed, when we least expect them to. To remember some that isn't supposed to be there, lived days and breathe air that cost a lot of what one could offer. Chaos ruptured anguish least to lost, and loss life thrive, yet given none, but reap.
"Run, and never look back, Emy!" A male on his late 30 s in distress screamed on his might. Scraps, and calves covered wounds earned a wince he bear, bleeding, and enduring affliction of agony course through a never-ending torment.
Her legs felt sore. A malady to occurred encompassed an avalanche of threat. The smell of burning flesh, blood, and the smoke had almost made her nauseous. Weary, yet choices daren t given so forth or to get caught means doom. She lost count of how long had she? stay awake only to be meet with another misfortune. Clamours right there, and then. Corpses lie to where she was before. Chained paws, eyes bulging from its sockets –terrified, and mortified, to sough and escape they had failed lead them on peril.
Her head is spinning –at lost. With fear-stricken face, she whispered a quick prayer before pushing her legs to run away from the chaos. The growls made her ears shattered. The fear doubles. Loud thuds took her breathe in fear that one beast would just pounce out of nowhere, and shred her flesh into pieces. To get baited and devoured isn t something she wouldn t asked for.
She is? mortified to what fate awaits her? between this war. To say she s sacred is beyond that word. It was indescribable. Imposed emotions convey in regards to a rabbit on a hole, hunted by the shadows screeching non-stop on a scornful bark of a wolf, who s on its trail for a jump. Ensnarled only to get eaten.
"You will never get away from me! You little bitch!" The ferociousness coming from the voice made her shiver.
She know that the promising threat would come into life as a horror. The? madness that the owner had for her. She ll be taken, and tortured – if not, keep only to suffer from the misery they brought even to their own people. Agonizing that she ll wish for doom to be at her service.
She was never there– put into a predicament of life, and death, not until she? was thrown to the world she never knew co-exist alongside with humans.
"A-ack!" She let out a loud yelp, when her ankles caught up with a corpse she failed to notice.
It s a beast. Tongue-lolled out, and eyes reddish in colour, but gauge by something that was sharp similar to its claws. Blood covered its fur. Lifeless orbs stared back at her.. She can tell how much it suffer from its injury that its ability to regenerate haven t help it to survive death s psychte when he visits. Pitiful, but she s no fool at? the wolf lying on its despicable nature.
Whoever it might be, she? knew the cruelty he had carried all along, when he is alive. A rouge had always never meant a good news.
Her train of thoughts were cut off by another howl.
She lifted her head. She wanted to runaway again, but her legs wouldn t let her. Tired and weary – frustrated, scared, and she was starving. Why had she been taken? Have she done something wrong in her life to be in this place? Is it because she d been loathing her father for so long just because he left her mother? It doesn t make sense. He deserves all the hate conform inside her chest.
Her eyes watered. What have I done?
And so it landed to the massive beast that was no more than far from where? she was. He is too large unlike the rest. His eyes were much sharper. His limbs seems to be more stronger as it crushed anybody who dare lay a hand on him. His canines took a chunk of flesh from his enemy without mercy, and the girl glued on her feet let out one of the loudest blood-curdling scream.
Their eyes meet. His – stone-cold orbs that promise death, while her, which show fear lead for her consciousness to slowly drift passed on her? grasp.
But she sure about one thing. To put the blame on him. The Alpha she hadn t ask to cross paths with.
***
EMERY GRACE CONRAD s POV
"A weak man can t love a strong woman." I read aloud that it had caught may attention, heed prior to the truth it imposed as I can envisioned my own mother.
With chuckles ruptured to emerge deep on my throat, I placed down the book clutched on my hand to my bed. The phrase took me by surprise. Amazement was drawn over. Who would have thought that it was kind of rare to find a strong woman seeking compassion from the opposite sex?
They don t need a man. They make their own money. They have their own job. They created empires unlike what history thought most of us before. To see a woman as a nurturer, a mother weary to how had days had gotten them to do chores around the household. Needles to say, women were never underestimated again. They became empowered, and hold their ground more firmly.
'Just like my mother. A soft voice whispered beside my ears.