I wasn’t her daughter.
Ariella wasn’t my sister.
Dante wasn’t my brother.
They weren’t my family, not by blood, so who was?
Who was my mother?
Who was my father?
Did I have a sister?
Did I have a brother?
Many questions about my real family began to fill my mind, but I knew no one here could answer them except my real parents.
The fresh smell of blood outstretched its hand to greet my nostrils as the screams from outside continued to invade my attentive ears. I tried to ignore it, but the reality of men and women losing their lives in a battle fueled by the werewolves was one that could not be overlooked.
No matter the number of soldiers we had sacrificing their lives for us, for their people, we knew deep down it wasn’t enough to keep the monsters from taking our kingdom as they did many others.
I knew there was no way we could defeat them, they were beasts after all.
Beasts with one intent, which was to kill.
Hope was the only thing keeping me going, and I was fearful that it was only a barrier that subconsciously blinded me from reality. This sense of hope kept us fighting a battle that we knew was already lost.
The hope of freedom.
The hope of living a life without fear of the woods.
Kept us fighting a war that could never be won.
“Jabari.” He replied with amusement in his tone as he outstretched his hand towards me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jabari.” I expressed as I took his hand in mine to offer a few small shakes.
“You’re not going to give me your name?” Jabari inquired, letting me know that he expected the gesture to be returned the second he had offered his.
“You have to catch my interest first,”
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