Whore of the Werewolf Billionaire

"Why are we having pasta for breakfast again?"

Tyler sighed, his muscles tensing. "For carbs and to give us energy, I guess."

Even if he's going to feed me a bucket of Carbonara, it will still not give me enough energy to face Eliane. To face all of these shenanigans and bullshits that has been causing chaos in my head.

I thought being here in Stella's Soul is just being a wife to a werewolf, pleasing the Alpha, being good to other Stella's Soul residents, fucking my Alpha husband and giving birth to his heir. Those were the things I have expected ever since I've learned about their world.

Until I learned about the Hearteaters. And Rowena and dark magic, Eliane and this fucking bitchcraft which involves the fact that I must die so that the latter can resurrect. "Why Elaine? You don't like pasta for breakfast?"

I nodded. I forced my feet to stand when he blocked me, eyes burning with emotions I couldn't fathom.

"What do you want to eat then, babe?" Tyler faked a smile.

"Pancakes and waffles," I shrugged.

"Fine," he emptied his plate of pancakes and waffles and carefully placed it on mine. "Is it our little one's request?"

"Yes." Taking a bite from the strawberry pancake, I countered his smile. This time, my grin is real. I'm glad he remembers our little one. "I'm not in the mood of eating any pasta as of now."

I am not in the mood of eating anything to be honest, even his dick.

"Are you " he shook his head. "You want to retire to bed?"

I blinked. "Yes, please." That was a lie, an excuse so that I can read more about Rowena

from the journal she had written herself.

I don't know if Eliane put me under a spell. But considering my current situation...I think

so. There's no doubt about that. I don't even know if these thoughts and words were mine or are they dictated by her as well?

I swallowed the hazelnut waffle I just shove into my mouth and pretended that all was well. That all is well.

always.

That all will be well. I tried to plant in my consciousness that everything has been okay as

But it sometimes felt good not to feel well. It's often okay to not be okay. But considering that my days are numbered and my hours are slowly turning into mere seconds...I must act and think fast.

But what can I do anyway? What can I do to refrain the unstoppable from happening? Life is unpredictable as much as death is inevitable.

Should I just die and let Eliane win or should I tell Tyler here and now and ignore the fact that he's gonna squeeze the air out of me in just a matter of a heartbeat?

I'm going to die anyway, either way. But my choice, this choice...it still matters.

Shall I die with Tyler's kind or as the creator of their archenemy? Shall I stab myself in the heart or let Tyler see for himself how the light left my eyes.

"I'll be going to bed now. My body aches so much that I can't describe it," I whispered without finishing my pancakes and waffles. I didn't wait for him to answer and rose from the table, walking upstairs without even glancing back.

My body and my mind are no longer cooperating with me, as if they, too, are controlled by Eliane.

Well...I am the reincarnation of Eliane so there's no need to be reeling about that.

As soon as I smell the air freshener of Tyler's master bedroom here in the mansion since

we have already left the Honeymoon House, I immediately made sure that the door is locked. I can't afford for Tyler to be sneaking behind my back again, to hell with what he might read while I open Rowena's 'immensely personal' journal.

"My father, Rowan, was also the one who killed my late husband Alpha Bryant." I am just starting, but the first sentence to where I left off is already making my stomach turn upside down. This has been the price for my curiosity, for my meddling between the affairs of Werewolves and the Hearteaters.

Well, even if I didn't interfere..."I could be dead by now. I could be dead even before I knew I was pregnant."

So I sat back from the love chair, my back leaning at the edge of the bed. "Alpha Bryant found out about my true nature almost immediately. I'm not that adept at blocking a Brown Wolf's radar as I am now to Jason's but he managed to find out almost immediately about me and Rowan, my father and the leader of the Hearteaters."

Gosh, I can now hear my own heartbeat. I don't need to read a novel or watch a television show to devour this kind of drama. I pinched myself briefly, reminding myself that this isn't a fictional soap opera or melodrama.

  This is fucking real. This is Rowena's journal.

"Bryant was able to know about me and my Hearteater baby, as well as Mikhail. In fact, his love vanished in that instant, threatening to spill my secrets at the very arena we had our wedding reception. I guess he values his life and brethren more than his love-that is if he really ever loved me." Okay, so I'm just going to think of this as a paranormal thriller novel with a dash of love triangle. "He threatened to tell the others everyone else if I don't kill my beastly baby and Mikhail. But, fortunately and unfortunately, my father was at the Misty Forest at that time. He was snatched by him even before he knew it-keeping true to the rules the Hearteaters abide by. Mikhail and Bryant never made the forest out alive. My father, the self-appointed King of Hearteaters, made sure of that."

Yes, this is too much for me to handle. Too much for me to know and read, even to see. It seems I am the only witness to an unsolved mystery case that has a different story far from the truth Rowena had written.

  Far from the truth she had unraveled.

  For such heavy words and verity that has weighed my heart, it feels like I am responsible for everything.

I thought I was going to die because the life and existence of Werewolves is the responsibility of me. Turns out, Rowena's death has always been by my responsibility upon my arrival here in Stella's Soul.

No, it has always been due to my existence whether fate or the Three Goddesses or some other supreme beings has swept me here in this lair of wolf-shifting men. It has always been me, my entire damn fucking life.

It seems living is indeed a mistake-a sin. Because of me being able to breath and pregnant up until now, several have lost their lives and their loved ones. Myriad of them have been crushed by their own dreams and hope for a better world.

It seems a better world is nothing but a fiction crafted by one's mind now. Maybe I should just kill myself by burning my body so that she wouldn't be able to resurrect, so that her vessel will be no more but filthy ashes in the wind since I am the last of my blood.

"Eliane's vessels are only of feminine of nature," Rowena added in her journal. "If Tyler's first child is a son, then he is spared. But not Elaine, the poor meek young lady. She sure will be targeted by Hearteaters no matter what." I don't want me and Tyler's baby to suffer the same fate. I guess I'm confident about that.

  But my life...Right. If I should die, at least it would be in my own hands.

  If my life should end, at least it is in the way I have prepared. Expected. Anticipated. The death I knew that would solve both problems: Werewolves will continue to be werewolves and Hearteaters will continue to be heart-eating beasts-but with no hope of seeing their Forest Queen ever again.

'What about Tyler? What about our soon-to-be born son? Will I just dump all those wishes and promises I tried so hard not to break?' Those thoughts crossed my mind like some random ducks passing by the road.

I hold on to the current page before flipping it to the next. I can see my name on the next page due to a cast of sunlight in my direction. My heart beats faster and harder, not knowing what other 'truth' I might read-I might know.

"I was also the first one who deduced that Elaine is Eliane. The first time I showed her, I bowed down my head, thinking it was our creator. Turns out she was the one sacrificed to Alpha Tyler, the one set to marry him and bear his heirs."

I dropped the journal, causing it to thump on the floor. Tyler has already left the house for his Alpha duties. I guess he didn't check on me since he's confident that I am just taking my morning pregnant nap.

"I wonder if Melissa has already given birth." I don't know why I thought of her but it seems every day that passes, I am becoming more selfless. And self-less.

  Maybe I should just die right now.

'You still have to finish reading her journal,' a thought popped in my head. 'If you're going to die, at least know more truth from the person you least expected to divulge it.' So, I forced my eyes to remain open. Where the heck is my unfaltering curiosity when I needed it the most?

Never mind. The journal is now in my hands-more truth is now resting under my hands waiting to be opened again.

Waiting to be picked up and read silently again.

Bile rises up in my throat as I scan the first sentence. "It was also me who had been poisoning Elaine from the very beginning. My father commanded me to kill her as soon as possible but in a subtle way the moment I told him about Elaine's arrival. I asked him why, and all he just said is a riddle that I have already memorized since then: 'One must wither in order for the other to bloom.' And from that minute, I realized from the monstrous eyes of Rowan that he had tasked his one and only daughter to kill Elaine. And resurrect Eliane..."

Not wanting to stain the white clean bed sheets, I sprinted to the bathroom and emptied my stomach. I never knew devouring more truth could end up vomiting more as well. Something ached in my chest. Not physical pain, but it was worse than being stabbed

eye-to-eye with a friend rather than being betrayed behind one's back.

I wish I had never been in this fantasy, lunatic world. I wish I should have told the Rutherfords at that time to go to Miami beach instead. That way I could prevent their untimely deaths.

    And mine as well.

The mirror that once reflected back the beauty I am so proud to possess has become a living nightmare. This very face is the one that Tyler wanted to destroy-the face of the Forest Queen, Eliane.

To hell with my face.

  And life.

And existence.

  "Fuck me!!!" Yes, I am now having a breakdown. Not just some common

breakdown. A nervous, anxious, suicidal breakdown.

I might have been the favorite of the devil since he bathed me in this luxurious torture

one will never ask for. I was a piece-a pawn-in a game I never wished to play. Yet, my wish and

my dream and my hope of having a better life filled with love and luxury could have been more just a wine mixed with belladonna.

All was temporary: this happiness, Tyler, the family I could have...all of these.

I grabbed a tiny blade, positioning it to my wrist where I can fill the humming of my

blood. "You must do this, Elaine."

; 'You must do this Elaine.' Some other voice, not mine, reiterated what I just uttered.

Eliane.

  'No, you must not.' My own thoughts are warring, if they were really my thoughts.

I stifled a cry as soon as a drop of blood flowed from my wrist. Then, I hoisted the blade

higher, expecting to cut deeper in my flesh. "This shall be my happy ending."

But a soft knock awakened me from this suicidal trance. "Elaine?"

  That was the voice of my husband, my savior.

I looked back at my reflection, smiling then pouting.

"I'm fine, babe." I threw the blade on the trash before opening the door, letting the

rushing water clean the bright red staining my skin.