His Secret

1: His Secret

 2011 © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

 Edited by DarciePeck

 The truth is beautiful,

without doubt.

But so are lies.”

           -Ralph Waldo Emerson

  

 Picking up the crisp letter that had been pushed roughly through the door I was annoyed to find the left side creased. Stupid postman.

I walked into my small kitchen, the walls were stripped of wallpaper and had a variety of different coloured squares painted on one side and waited for me to choose the best one. Most of the appliances were new, and I still had the habit of running my fingers over the smooth work surfaces. When I first moved here, about a year ago, the whole apartment was in need of love and attention. So far, I had redone my bedroom and bathroom, but as for the kitchen, that also doubled up as a living room, it was a mess.

My apartment may be a one bedroom, but it reminded me of a student’s dorm, it was that small. It’s one redeeming quality was an amazing view of the public gardens and was just right for me. I was too busy with my job at the local café to appreciate a bigger place, and truthfully, I couldn’t have afforded anything else.

Dropping the envelope onto the kitchen surface, I noticed a mark on my T-shirt. I groaned in annoyance, I had only just bought this shirt and already managed to get it dirty. I walked over to the small mirror on the wall next to the front door and sighed. The small mark, just below my breasts was paint. The thing about paint, it doesn't come out. A sigh fell from my lips a final time before I stripped off the T-shirt and threw it on the pile of washing near the sad excuse for a washing machine. The thing kept me up most of the night with its constant groaning. I was pretty sure it was possessed.

Quickly jogging to my bedroom, I pulled out a simple red tank top that read 'Love It.' My best friend Macy bought it for my twentieth birthday last week, and as I remembered that fact, my eyes caught sight of the birthday cards covering my desk.

It felt strange to be twenty.

In truth I had never really celebrated my birthday. No one really cared before about the day I was born. No one except my dad...but he was gone.

I sighed sadly at the memory of my dad. Pushing thoughts of him from my mind, I checked my reflection in the mirror above my bathroom sink. I ran a brush through my golden blonde hair cascading past my shoulders, and then applied a light layer of mascara to frame my eyes. My eyes, in my opinion, were my best feature. The blue irises shone brighter than diamonds and sculpted the blackness of my pupils. If you knew what you were looking for then my eyes gave away what I truly am.

A Lycan, gifted with the ability to shift into the form of a wolf.

With my mother and two sisters, I had grown up in a large town that had been under the protection and control of a pack, and the Alpha had been my father. He died when I was sixteen, and under wolf law an Alpha command cannot be passed onto an Alpha’s daughters, only his sons.

My little sister Lizzie was the baby of the family, and had been spoiled with all the attention any princess would envy. Her smile and blue eyes made every boy blush and every girl green with envy. My older sister Rachel was cruel yet beautiful She could wrap any boy around her finger with a single kiss and made them her slave from one night in bed.

As we grew up, everyone loved them. They had been popular in school, dated the best boys, and had been like gold in the eyes of our mother.

As for me, I had been the reject and outcast. I never knew why, but I was dirt in my mother’s eyes and my sisters loved to rub that fact in my face. My childhood had been tough, but my dad had kept me going. I guess you could say I had been a daddy’s girl, he hugged me all the time and had called me his angel. He protected me when mum would get angry at me and he always treated me to new things. All in all, he had been the best dad ever.