Chapter 3 Secrets and shadows

It took me some seconds to comprehend what was happening. Higan's grip on my chin, which was nothing short of torturous, was nothing compared to the shock of his lips against mine. It wasn't just a kiss. it was a claim, an unapologetic assertion of his dominance over me. My body responded against my will as I closed my eyes, electrifying sparks coursing through me as he pressed closer, his body overwhelming mine.

My pulse roared in my throat as every inch of me screamed to push him away, but I didn't. I didn't want to. The kiss deepened, stirring emotions I didn't want to acknowledge like something dark that whispered of taboo. But as suddenly as it began, Higan pulled away, leaving me shaken and exposed.

I opened my eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. There was a disturbing look etched on his face that I couldn't pinpoint. Regret? Anger? He was always impossible to read, a master at concealing whatever he truly felt.

"Pathetic," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think that meant something? You're just as weak as I thought, Harlyn." My heart dropped and landed somewhere around my kneecaps. The connection I had foolishly imagined shattered into a thousand pieces. I struggled to breathe, to find words that wouldn't come.

Higan stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down as if I were less than a thing. "You are nothing, Harlyn. Nothing but a pathetic lapdog. Don't ever forget your place."

Don't cry, Harlyn. Pull yourself together. I said to myself, willing to hold it together. But Higan had always known how to break me. The sting of his rejection crept into me once more, as raw as the night it happened. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, causing a minor distraction. My eyes burned from the conscious effort to hold back tears that were threatening to fall.

"And don't think for a second that I'm done with you," Higan continued, his tone now icy and detached. "You are mine. So, stay away from Ethan Starrk. He is not your problem-I am."

He spun around and walked away, leaving me paralyzed on the spot. The weight of his callous words made my back slouch as if they had physically crushed me. I let out a whimper as hot tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I wiped my cheeks furiously, desperate to regain control, but it was of no use.

I took a shaky breath as I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up to see Becca walking toward me, her expression was that of disapproval.

"Becca," I started, my voice hoarse from holding back sobs.

She didn't give me a chance to continue. "I saw what happened, Harlyn," she said, her tone sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "It isn't so difficult to have some self-worth, is it?"

I gaped at her, stunned by her words. I hadn't expected her to say such words to me in my state. Becca was always the tough-love kind of girl, and though she avoided being seen with me at school or anywhere else, she was the only one who didn't treat me like a complete pariah. I cherished our unlikely friendship, even though it was a secret one. We were both outcasts, and I cling dearly to that common factor between us.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to understand her sudden harshness.

Becca crossed her arms against her chest and gave me a knowing look. "Higan rejected you, remember? Or have you forgotten already?" Her voice was cold, devoid of the warmth I so desperately needed. How could I forget? No woman could forget the day she was scorned. "You should have walked away. But no, you had to throw yourself at him. Do you have any idea how pathetic you looked?"

Her words were like a slap in the face. "I didn't throw-" I started, but she cut me off again.

"Don't lie to me, Harlyn. I saw the whole thing. You kissed him back. And for what? To feel wanted? To pretend that he might actually care about you?" She shook her head, her expression hardening. "He doesn't care about you, Harlyn. He's made that very clear. You're only making things worse."

I couldn't believe my ears. Becca was supposed to be my friend, but her words felt like they were coming from an enemy. "It's not like I wanted to kiss him," I retorted.

"So, why didn't you stop him?" Becca shot back, her forehead creasing. "Why didn't you push him away? You're letting him win. Can't you see that?"

My eyes glistened with another wave of unshed tears, but I quickly blinked them away. "It's not that simple," I whispered, my voice cracking. "And you know that."

Becca raked her fingers down her brown hair "I do." she said, her expression softening slightly. I knew where she was coming from. She had gone through a similar fate over a year ago, handling the situation with a strength I hadn't been able to muster. But she needed to understand that I wasn't her. Becca sighed and stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I know it's hard," she hesitated, then squeezed gently. "But you have to be strong. You can't let him keep hurting you like this."

The warmth of Becca's hand on my shoulder was oddly comforting. We rarely had any physical contact, but this touch reminded me that she cared, even if her words were harsh. I knew she was right, but how could I fight back against my Alpha? Before I could finish gathering my thoughts, the scent of something unfamiliar wafted through the air, sharp and prominent. It was too strong to ignore. I straightened, my senses suddenly on high alert.

Becca noticed my shift and pulled her hand away, her eyes roamed the parking lot with caution and curiosity. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with slight concern. But before I could answer, a figure stepped out from nowhere, making her way towards us. And I pondered on who the person was.

Her facial features were illuminated by the light coming from the sun, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and pale skin. Her jet-black hair flowed behind her like silk as she moved with purposeful strides, like someone on a mission.

Becca stiffened beside me. "W-who are you?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. I couldn't blame her. I would have sounded the same. The lady before us was quite intimidating.

The lady didn't answer immediately. Instead, she offered a small, almost invisible smile, her gaze never leaving mine. "You must be Harlyn," she said as if confirming a long-held suspicion. Her voice held the same distinct British accent as that of Ethan's that added to her uncanny presence.

Although I was taken aback by the sight of another new face who for some reason knew my name, I nodded slowly, unable to tear my gaze away from her. "And you are?"

"Abigail Berlette," she quipped. "I'm a friend of Ethan Starrk. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

Becca's breath hitched beside me, and I knew she recognized the name. The news had spread quickly about the new pack of werewolves in Springville.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice unsteady. I wanted nothing to do with Ethan or any of his friends for personal reasons. And I also couldn't go against Higan's orders.

Abigail's smile widened just a fraction. "I saw what happened between you and your... Alpha," she said, ignoring my question. Her tone was conversational, almost amused. "Quite the spectacle, wasn't it?"

My stomach twisted at the reminder of the humiliating interaction between Higan and me. "Did Ethan send you here to spy on me?" I asked, certain that he would have also heard of my pitiful rejection story.

"No, no. Far from it," Abigail denied. "I just happened to see you two. A lover's quarrel, I thought at first." She sighed, inspecting her nails as if discussing something trivial. "High school drama." The way she said it made it seem like she was a decade older, despite her youthful appearance.

My unease grew at her demeanor. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice betrayed me. "What is it to you?" I asked, my words tumbling out.

"I've seen this before," Abigail said, her gaze sharpening, meeting mine again. "More times than you can imagine."

I scowled, rolling my eyes. Of course, I wasn't the first ever to be rejected. "And?" I sassed, preparing myself for whatever insult she might throw next.

Abigail took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back. "Has he ever told you why he rejected you?" she asked.

I blinked slowly, taken aback by the question. "N-no," I stuttered, the word sounding like a betrayer on my lips like it just revealed a secret I didn't know existed. Was there something I should know? I turned to look at Becca, searching for answers, but she looked just as confused as I was.

Abigail's lips pressed into a thin line. "Of course, he hasn't," she hissed, more to herself than to me. "Coward. I prefer the old ways. She paused, a faint smile touching her lips. "Some truths are kept hidden for a reason, Harlyn. And not always for reasons you expect."

"What are you trying to say?" I asked, my frustration growing. "If there's something I need to know, then tell me."

Abigail shook her head slowly, her expression enigmatic. "It's not my place to reveal anything. Sometimes, rejection isn't about weakness or strength, nor is it about hierarchy. Sometimes, it's about what hasn't been realized yet. What hasn't come to the surface."

Her words were heavy with implication, offering no clear answers. "What hasn't come to the surface?" I repeated, trying to clear my confusion.

I held my breath, waiting to hear what she was going to say next.

Abigail's eyes bore into mine, her expression unreadable. In a swift moment, Becca took a step forward, her face stern. "Cut the weird act. If you have something to say, say it already."

Abigail glanced at Becca, her expression indifferent, as if she were nothing more than a minor nuisance. "Like I said, I'm not here to spill," she repeated, turning away.

As she began to disappear back to where she came from, her words clouded my thoughts, leaving me with more questions than before.

Becca and I watched her leave, our expressions troubled.

"Do you think what she said made any sense?" Becca directed at me.

"I don't know," I admitted, "But I'll have to find out."