Elvira could literally hear her heart beating, pounding inside her chest like a boiling pot trying to explode as she ran. She'd been running for over an hour, and right now, her wolf was tired and her body was exhausted. Pain was tearing its way under her paws; even her hinges felt weak. They were already throbbing from exertion, but she needed to keep running. She had to, or she would be caught and taken back to that house she hated so much. She really couldn't risk that. She was young; she should be living a good life, not being held hostage and treated as a slave.
Elvira had her first transformation on her twentieth birthday, which was three days ago. Thankfully, no one was at home. That monster who had been abusing her for the past fourteen years had no knowledge that she had gotten her wolf, which is how she was able to escape. She didn't transform like the others did when she turned eighteen, so everyone considered her weak and abnormal. Her mother had been a werewolf, but Elvira couldn't comprehend why she couldn't transform at eighteen like everyone else. She didn't even know about her biological father; her mother never spoke of him at all, not once.
She was known throughout the pack as a single mother when she relocated to the Crestwood pack, where she met this monster that became her stepfather. The day she met Val, her wolf, was the best day of her life, and for the past few days, she had understood her pain. The pain Elvira carried in her heart all these years, her wolf had comforted her and told her she could mask their scent and that they could escape, leaving no trace. Elvira gladly accepted; her need to escape that hellhole she had been bound to for so many years was strong.
She had been going through verbal and physical abuse from that monster who called himself her guardian. He never failed to remind her, every single opportunity that he got, that she was at his mercy. He had practically turned her into a slave since she was eight years old, made her do all forms of housework, and never allowed her to have friends. She was homeschooled throughout her middle school till high school. He made sure she never interacted with anyone.
She remembered one time he caught her talking to a boy who strayed into their backyard when she was thirteen; he beat her so badly she broke her arm, leaving bruises on her body that took weeks to heal because, of course, she didn't have a wolf to heal her. He called her all sorts of disgusting names, but the one that hurt her the most was when he called her a whore, just like her mother. That was what hurt her the most, not the physical beatings he left on every inch of her body.
If not for young Claven, who dragged him away from her limping body, he may have killed her, just like he killed her mother! She saw him with her own eyes while she was hiding in the closet in her mother's room. Elvira shuddered at the memory, pushing her wolf to run farther away from this territory, as far as they could, so they would never have to see that monster ever again.
After running for one more hour without stopping, she got to an open field very close to the tiled road. She somehow felt this place was safe and far from any werewolf territory; by the smell around, she was positive this was a human-populated area. With that, she stopped, her body fatigued and weak. Her wolf forced her to transform back to her human body with the last energy she could muster, and then she collapsed, seeping slowly into unconsciousness where nothing hurt badly anymore, where no thoughts would hunt her.
Elvira opened her eyes slowly; the bright light that seeped into her vision made her wince. She tried again, opening her eyes slowly. She looked around, noticing she was laying on a soft bed, a pink blanket covering her body. She pulled it down, only to see herself clothed in red-striped pajamas. She felt dizzy and disoriented; the last memory she had was being naked and vulnerable when she slumped on the field.
She looked around the space, her eyes taking in the white-painted walls with girly arts and frames plastered artistically on the walls, giving the room a soft, feminine vibe. A flower vase sat on the vanity table facing the window where the sunlight was shining through, flipping the white linen curtains in the air. The table was stacked with books, perfumes, and creams, definitely proving that she was in a female bedroom. The open closet at the corner had girly gowns and tops, with a shoe rack below arranged with boots, heels, and flats.
Elvira took a deep breath and sneezed heavily; the smell of lavender mixed with human smell was strong. She had movement and immediately pretended to be asleep. The bedroom door opened; the lavender smell came on strong. "I thought I heard her sneeze," a soft, female, melodic voice said.
"But her eyes are still closed; she's sleeping. Let's leave her be, shuu," a male voice replied, shushing the female.
'Who are they?' Elvira wondered silently. 'Well, why not open your eyes and find out yourself,' her wolf Val snorted at her silly game of pretending to still be asleep.
'Val!!! OMG, I'm so happy you're here. I thought you'd be exhausted, seeing how I made you run for so long.'
'Well, I'm not as strong as I was before, but I'm not entirely weak, which is a good thing,' her wolf replied. Elvira smiled.
"She's smiling!" the female shrieked, causing Elvira to snap her eyes open in alarm; her excited voice threw Elvira off.
"OMG, Carson, she's awake," the girl with long, wavy blonde hair and big, blue, cute eyes, who looked around her age, said, staring too close to Elvira's face. Her lavender smell made Elvira feel safe, which was strange to her truly because she had never felt safe since her mother died, and that was a long time ago.
"Who are you?!" Elvira blurted before she could stop herself.