[Rosalie's POV]
“One.”
I swallow down the knot that is beginning to form in my throat from the fear that is slowly rising.
“Two.”
My body comes alive in anticipation of the chase that is about to come.
“Three.”
I burst forward, throwing myself into the labyrinth ahead of me while the blare of trumpets rang out around me, indicating the beginning of the chase.
Around me, everyone rushed forward desperately. And even if anyone fell on the way, no one would stop to care. The only thing they remembered was to run, not giving two shits if they would trample to kill others or not.
This was how it worked at the auctions. You were sold to the highest bidder, but before you were taken to them, you were given one last opportunity for freedom.
You would be sent to the labyrinth and then it all came down to luck and skill. If you manage to avoid being caught by the one who bought you, you get to go free and start a new life away. But if failed, you would end up in a whole new hell.
How did I get into this mess, you may ask? It started long ago when I was taken away from my mother and back to my father's pack.
Since that day, my life was destined to be hell.
I was born to a maid who lived in the countryside. The young maid fell in love with a handsome warrior who passed by the village. They had some sweet moments and as the warrior left, she got pregnant with me.
Though that warrior never appeared again, Mom always believed Father would return and save us one day. I knew deep down that he wouldn't. He was a liar, who tricked my gullible mother.
I never regretted being the daughter of my mom. Though life wasn't easy, she worked hard to give me what I needed. We lived a modest life but we had each other at least.
However, that simple life shattered when the blood I inherited from my father manifested.
My father had a secret identity that he never revealed to my mom. He was a powerful Alpha and he already had another woman as his Luna.
I turned out to be an illegitimate child.
“Rosalie, sweetie, this is your father,” my mother cooed, urging me from behind her. “Come out and say hello.”
It was my first time to meet my father for the first time. I was five years old.
Clutching my mother’s skirt, I saw a man with raven black hair and piercing green eyes—the very same eyes I possessed and considered cursed by the villagers.
“Hello,” the man chuckled, kneeling down so that his gaze was able to meet my own. “Don’t be afraid, little one.”
As he reached out, I darted behind my mother once more and hide.
“Sorry,” my mother sighed. “Rosalie is a bit shy.”
“Rosalie,” the man repeated. “That’s a beautiful name. It’s perfect for such a beautiful girl.” As he spoke, he continued to take me in with those eyes, which seemed to almost see into my soul. “I won’t hurt you, little one.”
Won’t hurt me? How was I supposed to believe such a thing when all I knew was suffering due to the way I looked?
Of course, my mother didn’t know about the tauntings and beatings I suffered because I didn’t want her to be sad, but I felt she had been aware of that. Then that was why this man finally appeared.