The First of Her Lonely Nights

[AWUOR]

The first night in the forest was without a doubt hard on the banished alpha. For starters, the mosquitoes had taken a liking to her beautiful soft skin. It was almost like they were sent to make her suffer.

Her wounds kept reopening and her alpha abilities had been slowed, all thanks to the banishing. She hated what had happened to her but she had to survive this. No matter what happened to her, she would find out what happened that day that forced her to be the girl without a home.

The moon was shining on her face, not to mention the soft breeze. The cold was hell for her, since she couldn't even turn into her wolf, not until her legs healed and the damned legs were truly taking their time.

Awuor was pissed more than she thought possible in that night, but when morning came, she couldn't help but feel happy. She was out and alone, but at least she had her life. That was all she needed to make sure she found justice for her mother.

By now, the werewolves had all heard of the unfortunate Eniola Sicario who had been murdered by her only daughter. They all were on the lookout for her, and were ready to punish her on behalf of the Sicario pack.

"Positive vibes, Awuor," the banished alpha said to herself as she sat up. Her wounds were so close to healing, which meant she just had to wait for a few hours before she was fine again. She needed to keep moving because if the rogues found her they would try to kill her.

Granted they would fail and Awuor would have broken them, but she didn't want to cause any trouble for anyone.

Her stomach rumbled, making her sigh in defeat. It had been thirty-six hours since he had last eaten anything, Now she was trapped in a forest, where she had no clue of what was dangerous or not. That was the time she wished some old witch would show up and help her.

The folktales the young wolves were told, always had some old witch coming to help the wolves, or someone coming to their aid. But no one had shown up for Awuor yet. She cursed herself for believing in the damned tales.

She was twenty already but still believed in folklore. Maybe that was the only thing keeping her sane, right?

"Stupid folktales won't even give me a helper," she sighed defeatedly while she jabbed at her legs and cursed for not being able to walk around with ease. Her feet were swollen so there was just no way she was getting up from here.

"Send me some help! Someone!" Awuor called out to anyone and everyone. To the moon goddess and anyone who could hear her, but three hours later, there was no one. At least her wounds had healed a little more.

She was now, more than ever, very certain she was all alone, but she needed something to distract her, otherwise, she would go crazy from loneliness here. She missed the voices of the young wolves who had been running around the pack with nothing to do.

She missed the werewolves she always trained with. By now, she was sure they had already woken up and were working their way into prepping for anything that could happen to their pack. It was sad to know that this time, Awuor was one of the uncertainties her people needed to be wary of.

How had she even gotten here? Well, she was deemed a murderer and there wasn't even a proper trial. That thought alone made her pick the nearest stone and throw it in the opposite direction. She was pissed at how quick her trial had been when she always made sure to listen to her people.

How could they be that cruel to her?

Was humanity truly a thing of the past to them? What of justice? Damn.

"I didn't kill our mother, Dom. I swear it," Awuor said to the trees. She wanted to let her brother know that she would never rob them of their favorite luna. She hadn't killed her and she could swear it on her life. But the only question was whether anyone was willing to listen to her.

As if her torments weren't enough, she missed her mother. Her very dead mother who she was accused of killing. Fate was playing a dangerous game with her and she wanted to know how this would play out.

It was just the first day and she was already doing terribly.

Defeatedly, the young reject sat on the forest floor, ignoring her stomach that had been rumbling for hours now. She hadn't eaten anything and if this continued, she wouldn't be strong enough to even transform into her wolf form.

She was already regretting going to the gym without eating, or even carrying her food there. Now she was stuck with no one to help and her stomach wasn't even getting the lonely memo. Maybe she just had to find another way, but where and how?

'A few more hours and I'll be healed,' she said to herself while forcing herself to get some sleep. She knew it was an insane task considering she was fatigued and hungry, but hey, she wouldn't be doing any better if she decided to reopen the wounds on her feet.

She wanted to turn into her wolf, since that would make it easier for her, but she couldn't. Not with her current state. She had to be patient, but patience also translated to being alone with her thoughts.

Everything terrified her at the moment.

"Aahh!" she suddenly let out a heart-wrenching scream, and jumped so suddenly in shock. Her stomach was hurting so bad and it felt like someone was clawing her from the inside out.

At first, she thought she was cramping, but werewolves never cramped once they completed the mating process. Maybe she was in heat, but that too was impossible considering they had fully mated.

For a moment, she was confused as to whether she had hurt herself in the night. Then again, she had been careful. The only wounds on her were on her feet. Besides, her stomach wouldn't hurt that much if she was hungry, so what was it?

She was already thinking on overdrive about the possible things that had happened to her in the night. She even thought that the witches in the folklore had heard of her sins and had come to avenge her mother Eniola.

Damn, what was it this time?