JASMINE
No matter how challenging life became, there was always a driving force that kept me going, a flicker of hope that urged me to hold onto my faith, believing that someday I would escape this wretched existence. Once upon a time, I, too, possessed hope, but it withered away rapidly in the face of the chaotic circumstances that surrounded me. I deemed it meaningless as the future appeared increasingly bleak until I crossed paths with her-the girl who resembled the person I once was during my earlier years. She exuded an immense passion for her pursuits, a passion I could only yearn to achieve.
She possessed an unwavering determination that seemed to burn within her, an inner flame that showed no signs of extinguishing until she found her path to freedom. She harboured no fear of sacrificing her own life in the pursuit of her revenge, believing that as long as she attained it, all would be well. If I hadn’t been naturally drawn to her from the start, her unyielding resolve alone would have been reason enough to seek closeness with her. The more I got to know her, the more I recognized the depth of her strength. Her courage was truly admirable, as she fearlessly faced every challenge that came her way. However, amidst it all, she displayed a certain recklessness, endangering her own life without regard for those she might leave behind.
She was a whirlwind to keep pace with, but she became the catalyst for the resurgence of my hope. Through her, I regained the ability to dream once more, envisioning a life where I could finally sever the chains that bound me and escape from the existence that ruthlessly snuffed out any flicker of happiness. I was resolute in my commitment to stand by her side and offer whatever assistance I could, even if it meant defying the established norms.
In situations like these, luck seemed to favour me. Gathering information came effortlessly, without having to put my life at risk. As long as I drew breath, I was confident that I could uncover the necessary intel, especially when it concerned a prominent figure like Easton; it felt like a walk in the park.
As the hours ticked away, I found myself filled with uncertainty and a creeping sense of panic. The ongoing chain of unfortunate events had cast a shadow over my intentions to inform Eleanor about Easton. The perfect moment to share the news had eluded me until tonight, or so I had convinced myself. Patiently, I waited for her, having discovered that she was in Zane’s chambers, but as the clock struck midnight, a wave of apprehension washed over me.
A multitude of distressing thoughts and scenarios began to take shape in my mind, none of them particularly pleasant. Eleanor and Zane had rarely been on amicable terms, and I couldn’t help but entertain the grim possibility that their interactions had taken a deadly turn. What if Zane, pushed to his limits by Eleanor’s resistance, had engaged in a fatal altercation with her? Or what if Eleanor, consumed by her tumultuous emotions, had impulsively attempted to harm him tonight, without a clear plan, only to meet her own demise in the process? Given her current emotional state, I couldn’t dismiss such thoughts. The profound betrayal from her closest friend had left her shattered and emotionally unstable.
Witnessing Eleanor in such a state of profound hurt and vulnerability was a first for me, and it served as a stark reminder of just how deeply she treasured her bond with Clara. Clara was undoubtedly her weakness, and that fact couldn’t be denied. The repercussions would be catastrophic if Zane ever discovered this vulnerability, as he would stop at nothing to exploit Clara as a means to control Eleanor should she dare to defy him.
Now armed with the information I possessed about Easton, I couldn’t help but ponder whether Eleanor would be willing to sacrifice her friendship to pursue the revenge she so desperately desired. Or would she jeopardize everything in an attempt to protect someone who would betray her if the need arose?
Trust was a scarce commodity in this wretched pack I found myself entangled in. The treacherous nature of those around me had become all too apparent. Friends and even siblings were ready to sentence each other to death for even the slightest hint of attention or favour from the ruling elite. I couldn’t help but wonder if Eleanor and Clara were destined to face a similar fate.
Lost in my ruminations, I failed to keep track of time, succumbing to exhaustion as sleep gradually overcame me. Startled awake, I bolted upright from my bed, only to find that it was three in the morning, as indicated by the clock in our room. Panic surged within me as I frantically scanned the surroundings in search of my roommate. Eleanor was nowhere to be found, and her distinct pheromones were absent. The situation was growing increasingly eerie, and I shivered at the thought of my fears materializing into reality. The mounting panic threatened to engulf me entirely.
As I surveyed the dimly lit room, my mind raced with uncertainty. Should I defy the pack rules and venture to the alpha’s chambers in search of Eleanor? The alternative was to remain here, consumed by nerves and praying to the moon goddess that she hadn’t engaged in something reckless. Just as anxiety threatened to overpower me, the pungent scent of blood invaded my nostrils, instantly jolting me and triggering the same reaction in Brie.
“Brie, I smell blood. I believe someone is injured. Can you try to trace the person’s pheromones?” I urgently communicated through our mind link.
“Give me a few minutes, Jas, and I will inform you who is injured. Please stay in your room in case it’s a dangerous situation,” Brie promptly responded, and I nodded in comprehension as the mind link fell silent. Restless and apprehensive, I unconsciously began pacing back and forth, my anxiety mounting. It hadn’t been two minutes when I sensed the link spring back to life.
“It’s Eleanor. She is inju-. ”
Without a moment’s hesitation, without even allowing her to finish her sentence, I bolted out of the room, instinctively following the trail of blood that permeated the air. It led me to the bathroom, and as soon as I stepped inside, I was enveloped by the suffocating steam. Frozen in place, my eyes widened in shock and horror at the scene that unfolded before me.
There was Eleanor, sprawled on the floor, her claws extended as she ruthlessly scratched at her own body, consumed by delirium. Each strike tore through her skin, leaving deep lacerations that mingled with the pool of blood and strips of peeled flesh that surrounded her. The water cascading down the drain seemed more like a crimson stream, heavily tainted by her blood. Oblivious to my presence, her eyes remained shut, while her body convulsed and bled onto the floor. A chilling shiver coursed through me, contemplating how she managed to stay alive despite the scalding water and the immense loss of blood.
Snapping out of my initial shock, I rushed towards Eleanor, immediately turning off the shower to prevent further harm.
“Oh no, Eleanor… what have you done?” I whispered, kneeling beside her and gently placing my hands on her shoulders. “Snap out of it, love. I’m here now, I’m here for you. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore. Just cry, let it all out, but please don’t do this to yourself,” I pleaded, feeling my heart shatter as she sobbed loudly and pulled me into a desperate hug. I remained still, offering her a source of comfort as she cried, refraining from providing soothing back pats due to her extensive injuries. Whatever had caused this anguish, it was clear that it was far from trivial. She needed to release her emotions and let them flow freely.
“Can I just end my life now?” Eleanor choked out amidst her sobs. “Everything… everything is ruined! I don’t want to continue living, subjected to his mercy. Ending it all would spare me the misery.”
Her words left me dumbfounded. This was something I never expected to hear from her. My mouth hung open as a whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind. This was the same person who rarely flinched in the face of constant threats. I couldn’t fathom what had transpired between her and Zane to lead her to this desperate state. Whatever it was, I was determined not to let her succumb. Eleanor had always been the resilient one among us, and I refused to sit idly by and watch her crumble, just as Zane had always desired.
“Eleanor, snap out of it!” I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mix of concern and disbelief. “What the hell are you saying? Why would you want to die? Why would you even entertain such thoughts, especially when we’re so close to freedom?” I held her tightly, unwilling to let go.
“You don’t understand, Jasmine. My life is ruined. Everything is over,” Eleanor sobbed, pulling away slightly and wiping her tear-streaked face before raising her hand to claw at her own skin once again.
“I won’t allow you to keep hurting yourself, Eleanor,” I asserted firmly, gripping her hand and preventing her from inflicting further damage. “And whatever it is, you can tell me. We will face it together. But hurting yourself won’t solve anything.”
“It won’t, Jasmine. I have to. Hurting myself will at least provide a different kind of pain, something to distract me from the worst one. So please, just leave me alone… pretend you didn’t see me,” Eleanor pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.
“For heaven’s sake, Eleanor, pull yourself together and stop acting like such a-”
“HE MARKED ME!!!” She suddenly shouted, causing me to reel back in shock.
“What!?”
“He… he marked me. Zane marked me,” Eleanor repeated, her voice trembling with anguish. “My life is over. It’s utterly ruined, Jasmine,” she sobbed, breaking down into tears once again.
“Oh, Goddess…”