Highest in Werewolf: #2
"Selene, my daughter, please hear us out. I know we don't deserve it, but your sister is pregnant and-"
I held up my hand to stop the man named Benicio Dixon from speaking. Surely they didn't call me here just so they can dum...
a/n: ahhhhh I literally listen to this song whenever I wanna write depressing stuff.
Billie Eilish - idontwannabeyouanymore
Trigger warning: Death, abuse, molestation, more death.
Attempted rape
It's like very graphic. Youve been warned.
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It took two hours to pack everything.
Two luggages I carried with me.
Two minutes to get in the van without a word of goodbye from either one of us.
Two glances behind me to see Landon holding Hestia in a tight embrace as his eyes locked with mine. Standing at the patio just a few feet from them were my parents who looked on as the van pulled out from the driveway.
Two days to arrive at the new pack I was staying with-- The Duskfall Pack.
And now, two months later, I'm still here.
I sighed heavily, taking the battered watering can by the handle and walked over to the shed. The sweet smell of fresh flowers mixing with the scent of heavy rainfall filling my nostrils as I breathed in. Calmness flowed through my veins when my eyes scanned over the fertile land. Flourished greenery blankets acres of land that stretched out miles across.
Goddess, it was beautiful.
I ignored the sluggish sounds of soil under my boots and stopped in front of the little wooden hut. Bentley Everdale, the kind old man that allowed me to work for him in his fields, came up from behind and flashed me a warm smile. The edges of his eyes crinkling with delight. Dressed in dark blue overalls with a red undershirt and brown work boots, he had smudges of oil all over his hands and under his wrinkly chin. He must've been working on his tractor.
"Here again, Selene?"
I tugged off my gloves after setting the watering can on the ground beside the rusting water valve. Bentley had a habit of checking up on me every few hours. He said I worked too much, but I didn't really consider it 'work'. I just loved flowers was all. Maybe a little too much but to each their own. I looked back to him, returning his smile with my own and wiped my forehead from the sweat trickling down my temple with the back of my hand. The blazing sun kissed the surface of my exposed skin and left lingering prickles of discomfort down my arms.
