No one said anything as I moved to the middle of the room, picking up my mottled gold tray that had been placed on the preparation table—the metal plate I had handcrafted in my earlier days spent in this sanctuary and that had been made for this moment. My thumbs pressed into the familiarity of the dents as I felt the room begin to close in, the viciousness of their attention almost making me buckle at the knees.
This ceremonial ritual was done in the company of all the others in the sanctuary, and I could see the act of it spread across the tables. Fruit had been cored and peeled and shaped, flowers had been pruned and pulled apart, and bread had been sliced, buttered and covered with honey. Our ceremonial plates were made up of the same ingredients, but no one's was the same. Some of the girls didn't put much thought into what they crafted, and others spent days gathering the special things they needed to make sure everything was perfect—but as I stood in this silence, I knew none of that mattered.
I picked my fruits— cantaloupe, honeydew, pomegranate and figs, then I moved to the flowers and that was when my reckoning came.
She slapped my hand away from what I intended to pick, the shadow of her harsh movements revealing the worst of my tormentors.
It had always been her since she had graced this sanctuary with her egotistical presence just over a year ago now, leading the mob whose sole intention was to make my life a living hell—as if I wasn't already aware of the hell I was living.
"What's the point if all you're going to do is end up mateless again anyway, you should leave the offerings for the other girls who stand a chance." Sarai spat out and I felt the vindictiveness of her words settle down the base of my spine.
In the deepest parts of my soul, I knew her words were wrong—but the shallow parts of my heart held onto them like they were their only crutch.
"You don't know what the moon has planned for us," I said, but my voice didn't hold the confidence I wanted it to. I had committed so many wrongs last night that even the foundations of my words wouldn't strike true.
She scoffed, yanking me by the arm and pulling me away from the centre console. I gripped the plate in my hands harshly, the metal digging into the palms of my hands from where I purposely hadn't smoothed out the carving of it.
"The past repeats itself when it comes to a runt like you, I'm surprised you haven't come to the realisation yet. You're even tainting this sanctuary by just standing here." She got closer to me until all I could see was her misplaced rage—even if my mate hadn't come for me yet, in this moment she was just as mateless as me too. "You must have done something unforgivable to make the witches hate you so much, or maybe the moon is waiting for us to hand you its punishment—your haughty little friend isn't here to stop us this time." Her words were venomous, and I stumbled backwards only to be pushed towards her again.
I was circled by more of the sanctuary girls now, the rest of them watching the mess unfold.
If Meena were with me right now they wouldn't have even dared to try their luck, but my only friend was dealing with her own demons, and she had enough on her own plate without needing to protect me all over again.
"I'm not looking to disturb anyone. I just want to arrange my plate and—
She yanked me by my throat, grabbing onto the metal chain around my neck and pulling until it sliced into my skin.
I let out a shriek, but she twisted her hold with malicious intent.
"It makes no sense for this pretty thing to be dangling from your neck." My hand instinctively moved to try and save the piece of amethyst that was hanging from its metal chain. It was something I never took off; it was the only gift I had ever gotten from my parents and the only thing I had left of them.
"I'll leave you alone if you give it to me." She demanded, and I hated the self-entitled way she had asked for it.
I tried to move away, but I had forgotten I was surrounded.
"The necklace will match my ceremonial dress much more than it will match your own." She was right, I had seen her dress before. It was a dark purple satin that shimmered in different shades depending on the light that shone down on it, and my dress was white and imbued with clear crystals—but that still did not mean that my necklace should be hers.
"I don't care," I growled. "Get your hands off me, or I will call the matron—"
"Everyone here knows that you won't be getting claimed, so why don't you stop being such a selfish bitch and give the necklace to someone who is actually worthy." I moved closer to her, her tight grip falling as the chain loosened around my throat.
There was a sudden violence that flared inside of me, one that I had pacified every time it showed itself. This time I let it take hold of me, baring my teeth as I watched the surprise flicker in her eyes. Usually, I let them do whatever they wanted to me, but this time it felt like I had nothing to lose.
"You'll have to tear it from my bloody neck," I taunted her.
The world seemed to stand still as we glared at each other, and I was stupid to underestimate just how spiteful she was.
"Fine." I barely registered her agreement or the way she yanked the chain with a much more brutish pull. Instead, I watched my grip on my plate fumble as everything fell to the ground. It clattered and cracked and crushed, hitting my bare feet as she tugged aggressively at the piece of jewellery.
Her hands were around my throat, pulling and yanking—choking me before the metal snapped against my skin and I was free of it. The air hit the open wounds of her attack, the bitter breeze making me grit my teeth as they all laughed and laughed and laughed, and all I could do was stare at the mess at my feet.
"Give it back," I asked quietly, but she was already walking away with her newfound treasure.
They ignored me as I knelt to the floor, picking up everything I had dropped and I didn't dare to let them see my tears as I gathered everything I needed. I moved back to the centre console picking up a paring knife—it was meant to cut the fruit I had gathered, but for a moment I imagined it slicing at her skin, the handle protruding from her body in a fatalistic way.
I dropped the knife onto my plate, and it clanged with the shock of my thoughts, but before I could give them any more consideration, I rushed out of the room.
My feet hit hard against the ground as I made it out into the forest, the tears streaming down my face as I sought out a quiet place to cry.
The sanctuary was a secluded monument, so it was easy to find peace in a place where everyone sought to hate you. But that did not mean it was an easy place to cry in.
I stopped by a small stream, my bare feet covered in dirt as I deposited myself and my things on the curved roots of a huge tree.
The tears got worse now that my energy wasn't being spent on running away, but Sarai wasn't the only reason I was crying. Normally it took more than a couple of words to break through the ocean of my emotions, especially when I heard so many of their mean remarks on a daily basis—repeated and recycled over and over again.
No—words were one thing, but the feeling of disappointment that was consuming me, that was another.
I had let everyone down in so many ways—the moon, my mother, myself and now I was hiding away from everyone, arranging a ceremonial plate for a mate I knew wasn't going to come for me and this time it was my own fault.
Maybe my real punishment was the mark I had been given, maybe it was a joke the witches were playing to give me the hope of everything they had to offer and stripping me of it all at the same time. Even if he did exist, what if he took one look at me and hated everything he saw just like everyone else?
"Why are you crying?" A familiar voice sounded, and my heart almost flung itself out of my chest.
I floundered in my seated position, my already bleeding hands scraping against the bark of the tree I was sitting on. I faced away from him as I quickly wiped at my face, but I could already feel his judgement digging into me.
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Moon Marked
Werewolf"Slowly, little moon-- I'm not going anywhere." ***** Marked wolves were the only wolves that could conceive an Alpha's heir, and Aurelia had received her mark as soon as she had turned eighteen. Her mark meant th...
6| Mark of Ridicule
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