Solena
"Congratulations, Sol. Oh, I'm so happy for you, particularly since…" My twin sister and best friend, Sarah, chimed, her voice bright with joy as she helped me unbutton my pearl-beaded wedding gown. Happiness gleamed in her pine-green eyes, the same shade as mine.
"Thank you, sister." My voice cracked, and I pressed my palm against my chest, trying to contain the overwhelming gratitude threatening to spill over.
"You are the best sister I could ever have wished for."
I had gotten married to Saul Campbell , the Beta of Moonwhite Pack. This was the happiest day of my life, and I refused to let the ghosts of our past darken it. The years of suffering Sarah and I had endured when everything fell apart would not steal this moment from me. Not today.
Wrapping her arms around me, Sarah pulled me close, and her sweet scent of jasmine enveloped me. I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and unguarded, and hugged her tight.
But then my left eye twitched.
The fifth time today.
Panic surged through me dragging me back to when I was six years old and the world had first shown me its cruelty. The twitch was subtle, but I had learned to recognize it. It was always there before something terrible happened, like fate's cruel way of warning me before it struck.
This was a bad sign. A very bad sign.
I had prayed against any ill-fated omen on this day. I had begged the Moon Goddess on my knees this morning to ward off evil, to let me have just one day of peace. Just one.
No. The Moon Goddess wouldn't allow anything evil to happen on my wedding day.
Would she?
Right on cue, a loud crash echoed from the living area. Sarah and I jerked apart, our heads snapping toward the door. My heart hammered against my ribcage, but I forced myself to breathe. It was probably nothing.
Maybe Saul had knocked something over. Maybe one of the pack members had returned to drop off a forgotten gift. I made a move toward the door, but Sarah's hand shot out, gripping my wrist.
"Let me go take a look." Her voice was steady, but I saw the flicker of concern in her eyes.
"I'm sure it's nothing. Just stay here, Sol. The pack doctor told you not to stress yourself. You never listen." She gave me a teasing smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"You cared for me when I was carrying Vivi. It's my turn now."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she was already moving toward the door, her footsteps quick and light. I watched her go, my hand instinctively moving to rest on the gentle swell of my belly. My baby. Our baby. Saul's and mine.
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the unease curling in my gut. I let out a slow exhale and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Moon Goddess. Against all odds, my dream had come true. I was married. I was going to be a mother. After everything we had lost, after all the pain, I finally had something beautiful.
I turned toward the wardrobe and retrieved the blue silk lingerie I had hidden away for tonight. Even though this wouldn't be our first time, I wanted tonight to be special. I wanted to remember every moment, every touch, every whispered word. This day would be etched into my memory forever.
More noises filtered through the walls. Louder this time. Sharper.
I frowned, my fingers tightening around the delicate fabric. Did we have more visitors? It had been a small, private wedding, and all our well-wishers had retired for the night.
I glanced at the clock on the bedside table.
Nearly ten p.m. There was no way anyone would be stopping by this late.
"Are you sure you won't check that out?" Caramel, my wolf, whispered in the back of my mind, her tone uneasy.
A prickle of suspicion crept up my spine, but I shoved it down. I was being paranoid. Everything was fine. Everything had to be fine.
Clutching my baby bump protectively, I moved toward the living area, my bare feet silent against the wooden floor. My heart swelled with joy despite the strange noises. I was married. I had married a man who loved me, a man who chose me even after everything. A man unlike—
"Three months we gave you. Three months to do one simple job. And you couldn't even do that."
The voice was cold, sharp, and unfamiliar. It drifted from the living room, muffled but distinct, and something about it made my blood run cold. The words registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but I couldn't process them.
Not yet. Not when my body was already moving on instinct, my pulse roaring in my ears.
"Saul ? Sarah? Is everything…" The words died on my lips.
Three masked men stood in my living room, guns raised and trained on my husband.
Saul was on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him like he was praying.
His face was pale, drained of all color, and his eyes were wide with terror. A smudge of my lipstick stained the corner of his mouth, a remnant of our kiss at the altar just hours ago.
Sarah stood frozen beside him, her hands trembling at her sides.
My stomach twisted into sickening knots. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Not tonight. Not on the happiest day of my life.
I blinked, hoping the scene would dissolve like a nightmare, but it remained. Solid. Real. Terrifying.
"He-hello," I stammered, my voice barely audible. "What-what do you want?"
None of them answered.
Saul's voice broke through the silence, high-pitched and desperate. "Please, please don't hurt us. We're begging you."
One of the masked men tilted his head, as if considering Saul's plea. Then he raised his gun, aimed at Saul's forehead. And fired.
The sound was deafening. My world came to a screeching halt. Saul's body jerked backward, and dark blood bloomed across his white wedding suit, spreading like spilled ink. He crumpled to the floor, his eyes still open, still staring at nothing.
A scream tore from my throat, raw and animalistic. I didn't recognize the sound as mine until my lungs burned from the force of it.
"No! No, no, no—Saul!"
I stumbled forward, but my legs wouldn't hold me. I fell to my knees, my hands reaching out toward him even though I knew it was too late. His blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the rug we had picked out together just last month.
"Tell the boss it's done," one of the men said, his voice flat and emotionless.
Sarah sobbed beside me, her hand suddenly gripping mine. "I'm so sorry, Sol. I'm so—"
Before I could ask her what she meant, before I could understand why she was apologizing, another gunshot rang out.
Sarah's body went limp. Her hand slipped from mine, and she collapsed onto the floor beside Saul, her sea-blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, empty and lifeless.
"Sarah!" I screamed her name, shaking her shoulders, pressing my hands to her chest as if I could somehow pull her back. "No, please, Sarah, wake up. Please!"
But she didn't move. She didn't breathe. The room spun. My vision blurred with tears. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.
A tall, imposing figure stepped into the room. He moved with the confidence of someone who controlled every space he entered, every life he touched. A black mask covered his face, but I could see his eyes through the slits.
One brown. One gold.
Heterochromia.
Those eyes burned into me, cold and devoid of humanity. On his forefinger sat a gold signet ring, the epitome of power and dominance.
I didn't hear what he said. I didn't care. Rage exploded inside me, white-hot and all-consuming. Caramel surged forward, lending me her strength, and I shifted. My claws extended, sharp and deadly, and I lunged at the man with the mismatched eyes.
I would kill him. I would rip him apart.
But before I could reach him, one of the other masked men grabbed me by the throat. His grip was iron, crushing my windpipe, cutting off my air. He lifted me effortlessly and hurled me across the room.
My back slammed into the wall, and I heard the sickening crack of our wedding photo frame shattering behind me. Shards of glass rained down, slicing into my skin, but I barely felt it.
What I did feel was the sharp, vicious cramp that tore through my abdomen.
No.
No, no, NO—
I gasped, doubling over as the pain intensified. A warm, wet sensation spread down my thighs, and I knew. I knew before I even looked.
With trembling fingers, I reached down and touched the wetness. When I brought my hand up to my face, my fingers were stained red.
Blood.
The truth slammed into me with merciless clarity. I was losing my baby. A sound ripped from my throat, something between a scream and a sob, something that didn't sound human. My husband was dead. My twin sister was dead. And now my baby—our baby—was dying inside me.
I had lost everything.
The pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony tearing through my soul. This was worse than when I was six and my father abandoned us. Worse than when I was thirteen and we lost everything we had and my drunk, drug addict mom walked out on us and never looked back.
This was an all-consuming, suffocating grief that crushed my lungs and left me gasping for air like I was drowning.
The masked man with the mismatched eyes stepped closer. In his hand, he held a knife. The blade caught a sliver of light from the overhead chandelier.
"You should be grateful," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Most people don't get to see death coming."
He knelt beside me, and before I could react, he drove the knife into my side. The pain was instant, white-hot and all-consuming. I gasped, my body arching off the floor, and a scream tore from my throat.
He twisted the blade and I saw stars. My vision went black at the edges. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. There was only pain.
When he pulled the knife out, blood gushed from the wound, hot and fast. I pressed my hands against it instinctively, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. There was too much blood.
He stood, he said, standing and wiping the blade on a cloth, before he turned and walked away, his masked men following behind him. I was left to die.
I lay there, alone in the ruins of my wedding night, drowning in my own blood. My hands were slick with it, my dress soaked through. Every breath was agony. Every heartbeat felt like it might be my last.
I pressed harder against the wound, my teeth gritted, my vision swimming. Through the haze of pain, I saw his face one last time. Those eyes. That ring. That mask.
The darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, pulling me under, but I fought it. I had to remember. I had to remember him.
"Gold signet ring," I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken. "Brown and gold eyes. Black mask."
I repeated the words like, burning them into my memory. I would never forget. I would find him. I would make him pay.
But before the darkness took me, I thought of Vivi. My niece. Sarah's daughter. She was safe, tucked into bed in the guest room down the hall. The killers hadn't gone near her. They didn't know she was there.
Thank the Moon Goddess.
"Please," I whispered to the goddess, my lips barely moving. "Please keep Vivi safe. Let me live long enough to protect her. Let me live long enough to avenge them."
The last thing I saw before my eyes closed were those mismatched eyes. Brown and gold.
I would remember them forever. And I would make him pay. Even if it cost me my life.