Royal Outcast

Seri's POV "Run, Seri, run! Run!" My mother screamed, her voice laced with panic as I stood there, frozen in place, my eyes wide with terror as I watched the raging flames expanding larger and larger behind her. The fire spread rapidly, devouring everything in its devastating path. Our territory. Our home. My home. The horrifying sounds of screams mingled with the relentless crackling of the fire, while the heavy, suffocating scent of burning wood, blood, and smoke filled the air around me. It was pure chaos. It was utter destruction. It felt like the end of everything I had ever known. "Sweetheart, please!" My mother grabbed my arm with a sense of urgency, her grip unyielding as she desperately searched my face for any sign of a response, any indication that I could hear her. Tears streamed down her face, now coated in a layer of ash, her eyes wide and filled with fear. She cupped my face in her trembling hands, holding me steady. "Seri, you have to go. Run as fast as you can. Run as far as you can. Get as far away from here as possible. Quickly!" she begged, her voice cracking under the weight of her overwhelming fear. "But, Mom, you... Dad..." My voice was barely a whisper, as tiny and frail as I felt, as tears of my own began to flow, cascading down my cheeks. I could hardly grasp the enormity of what was happening, as if I were a spectator, watching everything unfold through the eyes of another. "We’ll be right behind you, sweetie," my mother choked out, struggling to reassure me even though I could see the panic etched deeply in her eyes. Her small, forced smile did little to ease the grip of terror clutching my chest. She pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, a fleeting gesture laden with the hope that it could somehow make everything okay. And then, I saw him. My father. He came rushing toward us, his movements sharp and frantic, his face contorted with the same fear that consumed me. "Seri, love, you need to go now," my father urged urgently, his voice low yet firm as he pulled me away from my mother, ushering me back from the encroaching danger. Despite the horrific chaos surrounding us, he still managed to call me "love," his tone gentle and comforting, even in this dreadful moment. We halted just a few meters away from the raging fire, both my parents looking at me with expressions filled with sadness and worry, their eyes brimming with helplessness and love. "You need to survive, Seri. You must, okay?" My father’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, each word weighted with the gravity of the situation. "Dad..." I muttered, my voice barely a whisper, with tears flowing uncontrollably now. "It’s going to be okay, love. We’ll come looking for you. It’s a promise," he whispered in my ear, pulling me into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around me as if he could shield me from the horror outside before he placed a tender kiss on the top of my head. "Now, go," he urged, gently pushing me away from them. I glanced back at them for just a fleeting moment before I began to walk away, and then, with all the strength I could muster, I ran. I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me—faster than I ever thought I could, faster than I ever imagined I had the strength for. The deafening screams echoed behind me, mixing with the crackling of the fire, while the pungent scent of blood and burning flesh hung in the air, choking me as I sprinted through the dense, dark woods. Tears streamed down my face endlessly, the wind striking my cheeks as I stumbled forward through the shadows of the trees. I wasn’t the fastest, nor was I the most graceful, but I pushed myself relentlessly, knowing I had to get as far away from that living hell as possible, just as my parents had told me to do. As I dashed through the underbrush, the rustling of leaves caught my attention. My heart thundered in my chest, and despite every instinct screaming at me to keep running, I couldn’t help but slow down for just a moment. And then… I fell. I hit the ground hard, pain jolting through my body. Panic surged within me, paralyzing me with fear, and I found myself too frozen to get back up. Instead, I crawled towards the nearest bush, pressing my mouth against it to stifle my sobs, too terrified to move; too terrified to do anything other than cry. From my hiding place, I saw a dark gray wolf creeping toward me, its eyes glowing ominously in the darkness. In that instant, its gaze locked onto mine. I gasped, my heart racing in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. I woke up abruptly, my body drenched in sweat. I scanned the room frantically, my eyes darting around as if searching for those haunting eyes again. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening, and sat up, my hand instinctively moving to my head. Another night. Another bloody nightmare. Or should I say, a memory. Ten years. It has been ten years since that dreadful day. Ten years since my life was irrevocably ripped apart. Ten haunted years. My parents never made it. They never came back for me. I survived, but nearly everyone else from my pack is gone. They’re all… dead. It’s just me now. And me? I found myself in a werewolf orphanage. I was merely 8 when everything transpired. I lost my entire pack. I lost my home. I lost my parents. I lost my family. I lost everything. At the tender age of 8, I lost everything that truly mattered to me. I don’t know how I even managed to survive. Or how I ended up in this place. And today… today is the anniversary of when I lost everything. It is also the day of my birth. Unfortunately. I glanced wearily at the clock on the wall. 5:55 AM. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I carefully got out of bed. I grabbed a change of clothes and a bath towel before heading to the common bathroom. I washed up quickly, dressing in my usual attire as I went through the familiar motions of another day. Once I finished, I made my way to the kitchen, where Mr. Adams was already busy helping everyone prepare for the day ahead. He turned around as I entered, his face lighting up with warmth when he saw me. "Seri. Good morning, kiddo," he greeted me with a genuine smile. "Good morning, sir," I replied politely. Mr. Adams gestured for me to come closer to him. "Let’s get ready for the day, shall we? We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed," he said, chuckling lightly. I nodded in agreement. Mr. Adams runs the orphanage with the assistance of many others. The orphanage is funded entirely by generous donations from affluent packs and wolves from across the region. Mr. Adams is truly a wonderful person. He is the heart and soul of this place. He took me in when no one else would give me a chance. I started helping out right away, working alongside the others to prepare breakfast. The cooks usually rise at 4 AM to begin preparing everything, and I typically wake up at 5 AM, but today I rose a little late. While it’s not a huge issue, I still feel guilty. Everyone else is always working so hard, and I don’t want to fall behind. I’ve been helping for as long as I can remember. I’ve formed close bonds with the older members of the orphanage, as well as with the little kids. It’s not surprising, considering I’ve essentially grown up here. I’ve spent my entire life in this place because where else would I possibly go? No one else will take me in. I’m not the type to be adopted by another pack, nor will anyone ever welcome me in as part of their family. Why? Because I’m just a weak she-wolf, deemed ‘not-worthy’ by most. I’ve been hearing those words since I was a child, and it only worsened in my teenage years. It got even more unbearable once I finally shifted into my wolf form. The others would say all sorts of dreadful things about me. None of it was kind. And I understand it. I truly do. I comprehend why everyone looks down on me. I understand why I look down on myself. I doubt myself constantly. I question my presence and my very existence. Sometimes, I even despise myself. I get it. I sighed deeply, lost in my thoughts. "Are you okay?" Mr. Adams’ concerned voice cut through my reverie, pulling me back to the present. I nodded quickly. "I’m fine, sir," I said, though I didn’t feel fine at all. "Are you sure, Seri? You don’t look too good," he said, brow furrowing in concern. "This is just how I always look, sir," I replied, attempting to shrug it off. "Seri, that’s not it," he said quietly. "I really am fine, sir. You don’t have to worry about me," I reassured him, offering a faint smile in hopes of alleviating his concern. "Seri..." he murmured, but his attention was soon pulled away as someone called for him from across the kitchen. Mr. Adams sighed before excusing himself, allowing me to return to my task of preparing breakfast alongside the others. As the clock struck 8:00 AM, the children began to come in one by one, eagerly ready for their morning meal. We served them quickly, moving through the familiar routine with practiced efficiency. Once they were settled, we grabbed our own food and sat down at a table together. I placed my tray down, finally permitting myself to enjoy a meal as the older women began chatting amongst themselves. And then Mr. Adams appeared again, making his way over to me with something in his hand. He suddenly placed a chocolate muffin on my plate, and I blinked at it in utter surprise. Looking up at him, I found him meeting my gaze with a warm and genuine smile. "Happy 18th birthday, Seri."