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Casts 83

    <b>Chapter </b><b>83 </b>


    Nadia’s <b>POV </b>


    <b>They </b><b>say </b>that when you die, your life shes before your <b>eyes</b>.


    <b>I </b>always thought that <b>was </b>just a human myth, something they tell themselves to make death seem less terrifying.


    But as I felt the wolf poison spreading through my body, burning my veins and squeezing my heart, memories washed over me like ocean waves–Adrian’s ocean, the scent I’d first fallen in love with when I was just thirteen years old.


    My mother died when I was nine. Cancer, the human doctors said–one of the few diseases that even werewolf healing couldn’t ovee.


    <b>My </b>Father never quite recovered. He buried his grief beneath an endless parade of women,ing homete smelling of perfume and sex, leaving me to navigate the treacherous waters of adolescence alone.


    No one teaches a teenage girl how to manage her first period when ites early, how to handle the stares when her body develops faster than her peers, or how to hide her tears when she catches her reflection in the mirror–round face covered in angry red e, body swelling no matter how little she eats.


    Other teenage girls were blooming flowers, while I was just a crooked<b>, </b>misshapen weed.


    “We don’t have training gear in your size,” the equipment manager announced loudly during <bbat </b><b>ss </b>when <b>I </b>was fourteen. Maybe you should train with the adults instead of the juniors.”


    Laughter rippled through the group <b>of </b>young wolves. I felt my cheeks burn with <b>shame </b><b>as </b><b>I </b>mumbled that <b>my </b>regr clothes would be fine. The Alpha’s son<b>, </b>Adrian, was watching from across the training field, but he was too <b>important</b><b>, </b><b>too </b>perfect to notice someone like me.


    It got worse <b>as </b><b>we </b>grew older. At sixteen, I weighed nearly <b>210 </b>pounds<b>, </b>my <b>face </b><b>was </b>a battlefield <b>of </b><b>cystic </b><b>e</b>, and <b>my </b><b>self</b><b>–</b><b>esteem </b>had withered to almost nothing. I’d learned to make myself invisible, to find the shadowy corners where no <b>one </b>would notice me<b>, </b>to hold my <b>tears </b>until I <b>was </b>safely alone<b>. </b>


    That’s where I <b>was</b><b>–</b>curled in the hidden alcove behind the pack’s storage building<b>–</b>when I overheard them.


    “Fifty bucks says you won’t do it,” Cam Matthews challenged, his voice carrying clearly in the afternoon air.


    “Do what?<b>” </b>another boy asked–Tim Rankin, I thought, recognizing his nasal tone.


    <b>*</b>Ask out Nadia Bet,<b>” </b><b>Cam </b><b>replied</b><b>, </b>followed by howls ofughter from the others<b>. </b>“Loser of today’s fighting match <b>has </b>to ask the fattest, ugliest <b>girl </b>in the pack to the Spring Moon Dance<b>.</b><b>” </b>


    ‘I’d rather die,‘ <b>Tim </b>dered emphatically. “I’m not desperate enough to screw a whale<b>.</b><b>” </b><fn8b79> ?????? ???? f?ndnovel</fn8b79>


    “You think she’d even fit through the door <b>to </b>the dance<b>?</b><b>” </b>another boy chimed in.


    “Probably break the floor if she tried to dance!”


    <b>I </b>pressed my <b>fist </b>against my mouth<b>, </b>biting down on my knuckles <b>to </b><b>keep </b>from making <b>a </b><b>sound</b>. Their words weren’t new–I’d heard variations <b>of </b>the same cruel jokes for <b>years</b>–but <b>they </b><b>still </b><b>cut </b>as deeply as any w.


    “If <b>we’re </b>talking about who’s taking Nadia anywhere, a deeper <b>voice </b><b>interrupted</b>, “it’ll be none <b>of </b>you.”


    Theughter stopped abruptly. I peered through a crack in the wall and saw Adrian standing there, his tall <b>frame </b>radiating the authority he’d inherited <b>from </b>his father.


    “Alpha’s son,” Cam muttered, his <b>previous </b>bravado evaporating.


    “Future Alpha, Adrian corrected coldly. <b>“</b>And I don’t appreciate hearing my pack members being discussed <b>this </b><b>way</b><b>.</b>” His amber <b>eyes </b>narrowed <b>dangerously</b>. “Twenty miles. All of you. Now. And if I hear any more of this kind of talk, you’ll be runningps until your legs fall <b>off</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>


    The boys scattered like frightened rabbits, leaving Adrian alone<b>. </b>I tried to shrink further into my hiding <b>ce</b><b>, </b>but <b>somehow</b><b>, </b><b>he </b>knew I was <b>there</b><b>. </b>


    <b>1/3 </b>


    You cane out,‘ he called softly. “They re gone.”


    Humiliation burned through me as I stepped out, unable to meet his eyes. What must he think, finding me cowering like a pathetic Omega!


    “Why do you let them talk to you like that?” he asked.


    I shrugged, still staring at the ground. ‘What am I supposed to do?”


    “Fight back,” he said simply. “I’ve watched you in training. You’re stronger than most of the boys your age. Your reflexes are good. Your biggest problem is thai you don’t believe in yourself.”


    <b>My </b>head snapped up in shock. Adrian had noticed me during training?


    The Alpha’s son, three years my senior and already being groomed for leadership, had paid attention to awkward, fat, pimple–faced Nadia Bet?


    “You could be an excellent warrior,” he continued, his eyes assessing me with unexpected seriousness. “You have all the physical attributes. You just need more confidence and better technique. If anyone gives you trouble again, tell me. I won’t have pack members treating each other this way.”


    It wasn’t a dramatic moment. The earth didn’t shift beneath my feet. Angels didn’t sing. But something fundamental changed inside me that afternoon.


    For the first time in years, someone had seen past my appearance to the potential beneath.


    Someone believed I could be more.


    That night, I made a silent vow to myself: I would be a warrior so formidable that no one would dare mock me again. And when Adrian became Alpha, I would stand at his side as Beta–his protector, his right hand.


    That same evening, I cut off my long hair with kitchen scissors, leaving <b>it </b>short and practical. From that day forward, I maintained that short style, never letting it grow past my ears again.


    I also removed every mirror from my room, packing them away in boxes and storing them in the attic. If I was to remake myself <b>as </b>a <b>warrior</b>, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by appearances anymore.


    I knew it was almost impossible. Female Betas were rare; fewer than five existed across all North American packs. And none of them had started from where I was–overweight, untrained, and unsupported.


    But I had a purpose now.


    Every morning, I woke three hours before the others to run. Every evening, I stayedte at the training grounds, repeatingbat moves until my muscles screamed. I studied strategy and pack politics, forcing my mind to absorb concepts that didn’te naturally to me.


    My body didn’t cooperate easily. I’d lose ten pounds only to gain back eight. The e would clear for a week, then erupt worse than before due to stress and hormonal fluctuations.


    The taunts continued–now behind my back rather than to my face<b>, </b>but still there<b>. </b>


    But as a human philosopher once wrote, “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”


    My why was Adrian


    When I finally shifted at seventeen, everything changed.


    My wolf form was powerful, coal–ck and swift. I became slender and athletic, the werewolf metabolism transforming my bodypletely. Even the e that had gued my entire adolescence gradually disappeared.


    Some boys who had once mocked me even invited me to the Spring Moon Dance, but I refused them all. I spent that evening in the training grounds instead -I had no interest in the pastimes that captivated most other girls!


    The day Adrian personally selected me as one of his guards <b>was </b>the proudest of my life<b>. </b>
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