Hated By All, Loved By Four

✯•✿First Session✿•✯

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ*:.:..:...VALERIA'S P.O.V...:..:..:*Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

The first session kicked off, Doctor King promised he’d share something about himself if I told him about me. There’s really nothing to hide about myself because I’m sure my parents wrote down every bad thing they could about me to make me sound as crazy and unstable as possible.

I started from the basics.

“You know my name. Valeria. I’m eighteen. I’ve never lived anywhere besides Australia. I’ve been all around Australia, but my pack is in Sydney. I think the wolves down under don’t really keep tabs on the issues going on with the rest of the world. We were the last to know about the lycan wars. We just... it was just not something that the packs there paid attention to. Let’s just say we’re the last to hear important wolf news.”

He nods, resting his right elbow on the armrest of the chair before leaning his jaw on his palm. He gave off the feeling that he was paying attention, I’m guessing that’s part of his job right?

“Tell me more. What was life like growing up in the Creekwood Pack? What are the rules? What was your life like? Tell me all about it.”

I fidgeted because I find it easier to talk about mysterious attacks than what my life was like before it. Does that make any sense? It probably doesn’t. There’s nothing to hide but it’s strange for me to say those things out loud. But I do. Because the girl in front of him isn’t the Valeria of two years ago, she is divine. She was incredible.

I inhaled. “The Creekwood pack is the second biggest pack in Sydney, the first is the Bayham Fox Hunters. They’re sort of weirdos who think that wolves need to be in touch with nature so they don’t use deodorant or perfume, they shower in the streams without soap. But they are some of the nicest people in the world. They’ve got alot of people in their pack. Even though we’re the second biggest pack in Sydney, we only have six hundred people. So not as much as the other packs worldwide. I think we thought we had the most until we started checking some of the Western news, discovering that the Saint Valentine pack has over one point eight million people in its pack. It in itself is a full state, a small country. It’s huge. How does one alpha even run that?”

“The heathen den has thirty million vampires under its belt, it’s quite common for major packs or dens to have people in the millions.”

“I didn’t know that till I was ten, and I was doing research for a class paper and my mind was blown.” I made explosion sounds with my hands and mouth. “But, life there was good. I discovered my wolf at an early age.”

“Rare age for a wolf is sixteen, normal is eighteen, late is twenty-five.”

I smiled but it was bittersweet. “I discovered my wolf, I think I was six. I was young young.”

His eyes widened, shock filling his whole face. “Six? That is not just rare, that’s incredible.” He gives me a proud smirk, and his eyes look like they’ve got sparkles in them. Something about the smile got me excited to talk about who I was. It felt like I was showing off my trophies.

“I know. The pack thought the exact same thing. I was so fricking shocked, because I didn’t know it was a didn’t know why everyone was making a fuss. Immediately, I was put into training. I learn really fast-”

“Your art is proof of that.”

I beamed with pride, then caught myself doing that. I feel like I’ve been led into a false sense of security and I don’t know how this happened. But anyways- “Yeah, you noticed. I had a strict diet and training regime, I had rules that I needed to follow. My siblings hated me, they were the only ones honest about their true feelings towards me. They didn’t like that our parents were giving me all the attention, they didn’t like how the pack made me into this golden child.”

Doctor King c***s an eyebrow. “This wasn’t in your file. It sounds like you had a promising future and a powerful wolf. That’s valuable to any pack.”

The nervousness came back. “My parents obviously didn’t write it down in their letter. I was a promising prodigy or protege? I’m not sure if they’re the same thing really. Anyways, my parents and I had a falling out. When I was sixteen I went on an early morning run, and I was attacked. I remember the attack vividly like I could draw it out if I were ever asked to. And yet, I cannot explain it.”

It was then I noticed that he was writing. But he paid no mind to the words like he didn’t need to look at the page to write. His attention was on me and my words.

“Try. Talk me through that morning.”

“If I do that will you fix me? Can you even fix me? I think I would have been fine being wolfless, had it not been for the backlash my mate gave me after that.”

“Backlash? Okay, let’s not discuss the attack. Let’s talk about the backlash. What went wrong?”

“Turns out when you’re on top of the world, and it seems like every bloke is cheering you on, it’s not real. They’re not cheering for you to stay there. They’re clawing at the pieces of your foundation so they can bring you down. They didn’t like me. My best friends, my parents, and my siblings all decided they didn’t like me without my wolf. Her name was Onyx. She was this white wolf with tints of pink, and...” I stumbled over my words as I tried to breathe and talk at the same time. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth.

“Drink the water. You’re okay. This is a safe space.”

I picked the bottle of water I’d been given earlier, and chugged everything down without a second thought. I shut my eyes and tried to take steady breaths. I’m not sure why saying my wolf’s name seemed to make my throat clog up. But I took that as a sign that I was done talking for one day. These sessions are twice a week. Thank god for that. I can’t imagine seeing him three times, or more in a week. I’ve got an art class twice also. So really, I’ll be seeing this man four times a week. s**t.

“Tell me something about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Just tell me anything.”

I peeled my eyelids back, feeling a sudden wetness pooling around them.

“Okay, I’m Maddox King as you know. I have a twin, Jeremy King. We’re both twenty-eight. He lives like he’s still a teenager, and I live like I’m not worried about the future. Unlike you, I’m a favorite in my family. But similar to you, I’m a favorite because I have something to offer. My brain.”

“Your brain?”

“Yes, I’ve got a high IQ. I can turn any situation into something positive. At least to my family.”

“So if you became dumb would they hate you?”

He chuckled, his eyes squinting as he did this. “No, they’d crumble without me. I’m a god, they’re mere sheep who need someone to guide them.”

I gasped. “What? You can your family sheeps?”

“All excluding the old one, are sheep. They follow a pattern. Did you know that if you place eight people in a room, and tell them that at the sound of the bell, they should stand up and spin around three times... they’ll do it. Then if you introduce a ninth person who didn’t know about this, and these other eight rise up at the sound of the bell. They do this over and over and over, the ninth person will begin to join them. So as to not feel out and because they’d assume this was part of what they needed to do. My family is quite like that. You tell one to eat grass at two am each morning, then introduce the other one to the grass-eating one and the cycle begins. They need a leader, they need a god. I am that.”

“You are either crazy, or you have a psycho-god complex.”

He chuckles darkly once more. “I don’t have a god complex, I am a god.”

I gave him a bemused look. “You can’t believe that. What can you do that’s godly?”

“Legally, I can’t answer that question. But I am a god.”

“I can’t believe you’re expected to help me. You’re more unstable than I am.”

He laughs, tossing his head back. His luscious red hair flies with this movement. It’s something.

“I am not unstable. Shall we get back to our discussion?”

“No. I think I’d like to focus on the fact that you’re crazy.”

“Since when are gods crazy?”

“You are not a god!”

I spent the next fifteen minutes in a losing argument with him before I finally caved and decided I was better off talking about my problems than arguing with a supposed genius about whether or not he happens to be a god. I frankly, don’t think he is. But he fully believes so.

“So everyone turned on you.... is this why you jumped?”

“It was my birthday, and no one even bothered to say anything. It was going to be my f**k you to the whole pack. Do you know what my mother told me? That I ruined my best friend’s party. Had I wanted to really die, I should have cut myself in a bathtub and bled out?”

His eyes flash, and the color turns black for a split second before returning to its original green color. They’re glassy now.

“She said that?”

“Yeah. I don’t get it. What did I do wrong? They somehow believed I lost my wolf on purpose so I’d get away from their rigorous training.... I lost it. Look at me. If you saw the girl I was before, man you’d be impressed. I was awesome, I had friends, I was beautiful, I wish I was still living that lie.”

“Interesting. Was that girl you or the soldier you’d been made to be? Take a good look at those memories of yours. Were they that great?”

My eyebrows met in the middle, I couldn’t understand what he meant. How could they not be that great?

“Well, we’re done for the day. It’s your session and I would hate to overwhelm you. Over the course of three years, I’d like to build you...” his eyes dart away. “into something you can be proud of. A better you. Washed free of your torrid past.”

Somehow I don’t think his sentence is as honest as it seems. ‘Build you into’ That doesn’t seem right.

“Thank you. You’re not that bad at this job. I’ll be honest, I look forward to our next session.”

That was a lie but it didn’t look like he caught that. Then I remember Malcolm’s warnings. Everything he says to you... is a lie.

I bid him goodbye and left. It was quite dark at this time, and I was afraid during the whole walk back to the apartment. I was only a few minutes away, the building was in sight when I spotted that bony woman with her scythe. This time she was watching me. She was far, on the other side of the street. But her eyes, they never left me.

Something about her made me feel even more uncomfortable than I did the first night I’d seen her.