I can never bring myself to fully remember what happened after the stranger found my brothers and I. All I know is that we made it out alive. And from that day, they hated me ever since. I was locked in this room, away from the pack, away from civilization for nine years. And nearly every day, every other day if I was lucky, one of my brothers would come and say how much of a disgrace I was. I never truly knew who it was that came, I was too much in my own sorrows to know for certain.

All I know is that I never once got to leave this room. And my only communication was Debra, the only person who actually felt sorry for me. Who didn't think my parents death was my fault, even though she was possibly the only person who thought that. After their death, amongst the pack, my brothers had told them that I was kidnapped and never to be seen again. Reasons for why no one ever really came looking for me. And surroundings packs didn't know why my parents actually died, just to protect their sons is what everyone believed. Since the story of my existence was pretty much a myth, no one thought otherwise.

As my days continued up here, I grew weak. I still had my werewolf senses, I could still hear for a very far proximity- but I was cut off from the pack's mind-link. For obvious reasons of course. I believed that I was still able to heal but my brothers never let that happen. I was basically on the verge of being human.

Debra continued to tend to my wounds, being careful of possible broken injuries.

"Who was it this time?" I mumble, barely audible but she still heard me.

"Trent," she said softly.

I nodded my head somewhat painfully. He never really liked me to begin with, for as long as I could remember. I never understood why and never made a motion to fully comprehend it.

"How much longer?" I question, with her resulting in looking at me confused. "It won't be long till I die right?" I wince in pain and cough slightly from the dryness of my throat. "I haven't properly... healed in years. It won't be long till my body falls subject to the wounds... How much longer?"

"You can't think like that Emmy," she said softly, resulting in my laughing drily. "One day you'll be outside and living your life."

"Debby," I say shortly. "I'm never getting out of here. I'm practically rotting away up here with nobody knowing of my existence. I haven't shifted in three years, ever since my sixteenth birthday. My wolf only talked to me that one time and won't do so anymore. I'm alone."

"One day Emmy," she said.

I didn't push her clarify what she meant because she always said that. "One day". Whatever the hell that meant. On my sixteenth birthday, I was still in my room, locked away from everyone. I had experienced my first transition by myself. I went through the pain and agony alone. I screamed for hope that someone would find me, help me. But the room was soundproof, not even the best warriors could've heard me.

So I shifted.

And I believe that night is where hell broke lose between my brothers and I. Because one of them, I couldn't remember who, walked in after my transition and saw that I was a white wolf. Very rare, not many had ever been spotted. And if they were, they were killed by vicious wolves who didn't want to see them succeed. Because in the eyes of wolf society- white wolves were considered royalty. Back when wolves ruled majority of the earth, white wolves ran over them until chaos broke loose. And from then on, white wolves weren't really spotted. Only myths of their existence, much like my life.

The reason for my parents death and them protecting me was because I was a mixed breed between wolf and witch. No one knew that I was going to become a white wolf- just the fact that I was mixed as such was reason enough to kill me.

And my parents died trying to protect me.

I remember the night my wolf talked to me, moments before one of my brothers found me. She told me her name, Lilith- Lilly for short- and that she would always be there for me. I laugh to myself every time I think of that small conversation we had. Because it was a lie. She was never there. She didn't speak to me, not even when I was searching for her. It basically felt like the mind-link with the pack- cut off. I barely could feel her presence anymore, I didn't even know if she was still there.

"You know why your parents named you Emerald?" Debra asked. I knew the story very well but I never stopped her from telling it. She ran a warm cloth over my scars on my head now, having finished with the wounds on my stomach and chest. "It's a sacred stone tied to the goddess Venus, many people think that she was either related to the Moon Goddess or they were great friends. They were both beautiful, tied together like peanut butter and jelly." That always made me laugh, for some weird reason. But Debra always liked to see me smile and to this day, after many times of telling me this story, it never faltered. "The stone was a symbol of hope. Because back when the chaos was arising with the royal family and humans trying to overthrow them, there wasn't much hope. So, stories say that Venus and the Moon Goddess created this stone- Emerald- to bring peace and hope between the two. And divided them. Majority of humans do not know of our existence, only the ones we can trust. And you know what else?"

"What?" I question, already knowing the answer but I asked anyways.

"It is also the stone of unconditional love, healing, and patience. Much like you hm?" I smiled nevertheless at her analogy. "Only special girls get names like that, I've never heard of another Emerald before. Have you?"

"No," I say, obviously.

"Keep your hope and patience Emmy," she said. "Because I mean what I say- you will get out of here soon."

And like every time, I ignored her determined voice and nodded just to not get a lecture.