Page 4 of Born of Blood and Thorns

"Please," I tried one last time, hearing my voice catch as I swallowed back the sob that was forming. "This was a misunderstanding, I'm sorry."

"You heard him, little viper. Get out," Gideon demanded, a deadly edge to his words. "Wolves will always be loyal to wolves first."

I turned to him, baring my own slightly pointed canines. For the first time ever, I wished I was a full vampire so I could rip his throat out. So I could bleed him to death and watch as the life left his eyes. I wasn't. I was the least powerful person in this room.

"Leave," Mr. Bingley said again, more firmly but with a little less venom in his tone.

"Yes, little cockroach, scatter off," Gideon added. Mr. Bingsley did not correct him, come to my defense, or deny his slurs. He had called me the same.

The pain of his words hit me harder than I had expected, and I almost opened my mouth to defend myself. I sighed, realizing there was no use. This feeling of betrayal was worse because, for once, I had actually thought I had made a friend in this strange world. It was foolish to think differently; there were no friends for people like me. Grabbing onto the book tightly, I marched toward the door and cast one last glance over my shoulder. He recoiled and stepped back, turning away from me.

It was like a punch to my gut. I had heard these words and seen these reactions countless times before, but this time it felt different. I thought I had finally found someone who would understand me and accept me enough that I could feel less alone. But I was wrong. There was no one for me in this cruel world. With a heavy sigh, I marched toward the door, but not before clutching ahold of the blood-covered book that I'd risked so much for.

"Fine, if you don't want to hear me out, then I'm keeping this." I shook the book at his back as droplets of blood splattered his way. Snatching up my cloak as it toppled the coat hanger, I snarled loud like the vampire they expected me to be. Mr. Bingsley tensed, his back still facing me as a show of disrespect.

As if it were I who dared to cast him out with nothing more than a few books falling off a shelf. Gideon, who I wanted to kick all over again, wore a pleased smile on his pretty face.

I clenched my jaw, struggling not to reveal the pain that gnawed at my gut as I clenched my fists and marched out of the door. The sound of glass shattering into pieces around me surrounded me like a chorus of angry screams as I slammed the door hard enough to break it, mirroring the rage that coursed through me.

Any chance of him allowing me back was now gone. My rage boiled over, and I roared to the heavens, letting the punishing downpour wash away my fury like a heavenly offering.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

I should have groveled.

I should have begged.

I should have...

The wind and rain pelted my face, echoing the conflict inside me. Matching my anger with its own, drenching me to my very soul. I wanted nothing more than to remain human, to keep living life as an ordinary mortal until I was old and feeble.

But with every step I took on this journey, something stood in my way. I had no control over the rage that coursed through my veins or the way my stomach ached and my steps faulted as they felt like lead with the lack of fuel I'd had. My thoughts fell into a morose tailspin. I was starving. Only my half-vampire nature kept me from dying.

I had a sinking feeling in my gut that tonight would be a night where my stomach growled until it ached. My bones gnawed in an entirely different way as the cold crept upon me in my sleep.

However hard fate pushed against me, I would refuse to surrender, determined to take back control and make this road mine.

I just had to survive first. Which was infinitely easier said than done.

CHAPTER 2

Bella

The rain turned into an onslaught of water pouring down from the heavens as the clouds obscured the sun behind its dreary great pillows. The breeze picked up, making the water hit in violent thrashes. The wind roared like an angry beast and whipped my hair into a frenzy.

It slammed into me, nearly knocking me off balance as I clutched onto my book for dear life. My arms shielded my face from the onslaught of debris flying through the air. I clutched it harder under my cloak, praying the pages were not damaged aside from the blood.

It felt like a baptism under heaven's wrathful gaze. Which god or goddess had been angered was anyone's guess.

The street emptied as people ran for cover. They didn't look at me even as they forced their way past me, careless and uncaring about this angry half-breed who was blocking their way. They couldn't see past the soaking dark cloak that shielded most of my form except for my narrowed eyes and frowning lips.

Raindrops slid down from the brim of my hood, hitting the ground around me in an unceasing cadence. At times, they came down so hard and heavy that I could see nothing but white water before me for minutes at a time. This storm wasn't normal; it had been building since early morning and was now reaching its peak as night fell upon us. Lightning crashed all around, followed immediately by ominous thunderclaps that shook the earth beneath our home.

"All that for a book, you stupid girl," I muttered as I continued down the street. It had been more than just about a book. I felt the sting of the rejection like a hard slap across the face.

Hope was deadly, yet I clung to it like a life raft. Passing an abandoned food cart, I snagged some old and dingy carrots, which would do for now. My stomach clenched, but I shoved them in my pocket instead: at least I could live today. Tomorrow was another story.

"Isabella!" called my father's voice from inside my mind, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced around the dreary, muddy street, realizing I'd been lost in my bitter thoughts.

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