Breaking the Curse of the Lycan Prince

My mother seized my gown and mercilessly tore away its upper portion, exposing my heart, the most vulnerable point for a werewolf. Despite my frantic pleas, her actions remained heedless, as she had irrevocably lost her sanity.

It was then that an unexpected surge of power surged from within me, enabling me to push her away from my prone form. I hastily rose to my feet, sensing an intense heat enveloping my body, as if I were about to unleash fire. Something tumultuous roiled within me, as if it sought liberation from its confines.

In the end, it seemed this force succeeded, for I suddenly found myself bereft of reason, under the control of this enigmatic beast, and imbued with tremendous strength.

As I gazed at my mother in that moment, her visage had transformed into something otherworldly. Instead of her familiar face, I beheld a demonic countenance, and an overpowering scent filled the air, stoking the fires of my fury.

An overwhelming compulsion seized me, and I could not delay any longer; I lunged at her with a ferocity that defied explanation. She made a futile attempt to defend herself, but my newfound strength allowed me to mercilessly rend her flesh. I savagely gouged out her eyes, shattered her limbs, and, in the end, ripped her heart from her chest, consuming it in a manner reminiscent of a vampire.

It was precisely at that moment when the Beta's mate forcefully burst into the room, kicking the door wide open.

Upon witnessing the grisly scene, she let out a blood-curdling scream, drawing the attention of others who promptly rushed to the scene, discovering me in the midst of my mother's brutal demise.

Yet, the question remained—why had no one come to my aid when I was nearly killed by her hand?

Despite the multitude of wounds that marred my body, they inexplicably reached a different conclusion. Instead of recognizing my mother as the aggressor, they believed she had been acting in self-defense.

The powers of the enigmatic beast that had momentarily seized control of me dissipated and never returned. This life-altering incident had transpired when I was a mere 15 years old, and from that point onward, my existence spiraled into misery.

They labeled me a demon, and on numerous occasions, they summoned various sorcerers to examine me. These sorcerers would administer concoctions that would only sear my insides with unbearable pain.

Some even subjected me to baths infused with wolfsbane, inflicting injuries so severe that it took a month to heal. However, none of their efforts revealed anything beyond my wretched wolf.

It had been three agonizing years since the incident, and despite my repeated claims that my mother had transformed into a demon and sought to end my life, no one believed me. Instead, my torment intensified for accusing the deceased Luna falsely.

This year, my world descended into unmitigated hell when my father selected another woman as his new mate. Her name was Gemma, and she became not only my stepmother but also an embodiment of malevolence who relished my suffering.

For reasons I couldn't fathom, she took pleasure in witnessing my pain and heartbreak. I struggled to identify any wrongdoing on my part that would provoke her hostility.

Ever since Father brought her into the royal pack house, my existence had become a ceaseless ordeal. A few months ago, our Betas perished in a war, and my father took in their daughter. I was 18, and she was 17, but our ages held no significance, as she, too, treated me as a lowly servant. I obeyed her every command without question, for even a hint of disrespect would earn me a deep and painful cut from my father.

...

"Hattie!!!" My stepmother's voice shattered my reverie, jolting me from the bed where I had unknowingly perched.

Fear clutched at me, rendering my mind numb as I fumbled my way out of the room, my vision blurred by hot tears. There was no need for divination to discern that I was about to endure another round of her beatings.

Even her tone was a grim harbinger.

Lost in my sorrow, I had lost track of time, oblivious to the persistent blaring of the alarm.

"Hattie!!!" She shouted once more, prompting me to make a stealthy retreat to the kitchen before responding, in hopes of concealing the fact that I had remained in my room after the alarm had sounded. However, upon reaching the living room, I was confronted by my tormentor, who appeared to have been lying in wait. Every muscle in my body constricted as I beheld her towering form, her countenance more menacing than ever.