Chapter 2

Marabella looks down at her hands, a small frown on her face, before glancing back at Jasmine and Marley’s retreating form. Her lip quivers and she shakes her head, clenching her hands into fists. “Marabella?” I murmur, and she looks up at me. Her gold eyes brim with tears. “I wasn’t going to touch her, momma, I promise,” she whispers. “I know, sweetheart, you did nothing wrong,” I tell her. Eziah reaches over and grabs her hand, and I see him squeeze it and give her a small smile. “It’s okay, sis,” Eziah tells her, and she pulls her hand away and nods. Eziah looks at me, and I sigh. “I will start making lunch. You guys carry on playing until then, okay?” I tell the kids with a small smile. Despite what has happened, I don’t want to ruin the rest of their afternoon. “Ok, momma,” Marabella replies, crouching down by the end of the sandpit. I stroke her hair and kiss her forehead before turning away and walking back inside. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as she slips her gloves back on and moves to sit next to the sandpit to watch Alicia and Eziah. I will deal with Jasmine later. Marabella did nothing wrong, and I really don’t like how she reacted in front of my daughter. It irritates me that everyone is so frightened by her; she is only a child. Fear makes people respond in different ways. I understand that and as much as I hate to admit it, Marabella is treated differently by most people. It can’t be helped, and I try my best to lessen the gut-wrenching blows, when parents say no to letting their kids play. After the first few times, I learned that Marabella would ask to have a playdate and be all excited and ask me to ring their parents. But when they refused, the look on her face would always break my heart, so I stopped asking in front of her anymore. After a while, she herself stopped asking. That hurt more than I could put into words. That was why I felt relief when Alicia’s mother agreed for her to come over. I didn’t particularly like her mother. She is pretty rude and doesn’t seem to differentiate between being too nosy and just plain rude sometimes, not to mention that she is also a big gossip. If you want the entire town to know something, all you have to do is mention it to Ayla, and that will guarantee it will be around town by the end of the day. And a more elaborate, exaggerated version of what she was told. Walking inside, I grab the bread from the pantry distractedly and begin to make sandwiches for the kids. My own mood is gloomy after what just happened. If I am feeling like this, Marabella must be feeling far worse, but she always keeps it inside. Hearing the front door open, my heart skips a beat and I’m relieved when I smell Ezra’s scent waft to me, signaling his presence. Finally, he is home. I have barely turned around, ready to greet him, when Marabella suddenly rushes inside, startling me, as she rushes past me and nearly knocks me over in the process. Alarm rushes through me when I realize her face is streaked with tears. I glance through the window, and I can just make out Eziah, yelling at Alicia. I take off after Marabella. She races down the hallway beside the stairs, only to run straight into her father, the impact making her tumble backward and fall onto the ground. “Woah, what’s going on?” Ezra asks, crouching down next to her as he helps her up. As soon as I get a better look at Marabella, I instantly notice that she is covered in sand. Ezra brushes it off and gently grips her arms. “Hey, what’s wrong, baby?” he asks again, but Marabella shakes her head, crying uncontrollably as she tries to pull away. “Marabella?” Ezra asks just as the front door opens, and Mateo walks in, saying something. His words cut off when he spots our daughter crying. “Bella, what happened?” Mateo asks, stopping next to Ezra and peering down at her. “They all hate me. Everyone hates me,” Marabella cries. “Who hates you? Nobody hates you, baby,” Ezra tells her, a frown creases his brow. I chew my lip, watching on with worry surging through me. This isn’t the first time Marabella has broken down over her gifts. I can’t even blame her. The way she is treated only adds to her stress. “Everyone. I am a freak, a monster! I don’t want this!” she sobs. “Don’t say that. That is not true,” Ezra scolds her. He hates hearing her say things like that and hates it even more that she is made to feel this way. We all did. There is nothing worse to watch your own child suffer, especially at such a young and vulnerable age as hers. She is only six. No child should feel hated. And although we try to shield her from the judgment and the treatment, it is near impossible when she has a Moon Goddess for a mother and two Alpha fathers. No matter where we go, we are constantly receiving unwanted attention, and therefore, so is Marabella. The whispers always get to me. The hardest part is being the bigger person and not rising or reacting to their hurtful words. Instead, I try to ignore them. There was one time when Ezra once lost his temper, but I don’t blame him, not after what happened. If he didn’t end up killing the asshole, one of us would have. It was an Alpha meeting, and we brought the kids to play with the other Pack Alphas children when one man, who had no children and had his pack taken by a rival Alpha for cruelty to his members, took a jab at the twins. All because I refused to help him. “Ah, so here they are! The blessed and cursed twins, abominations, and that one.” he had said, pointing at Marabella. She was only two at the time. “She should have been put down at birth!” The growl that left Ezra as Maddox pushed forward still sends a shiver up my spine to this day. He had killed him within seconds and then had challenged everyone else in the hall to speak up if they had anything to say. None did; none were game enough to, after watching the man get torn apart. His dead, bleeding body at Ezra’s feet, while he was drenched in blood, was a gruesome display of the power Ezra holds. Even if they wanted to, they were far too terrified to have the courage to. I shake the memory away, returning to the present. My mind forced me into the memories and that’s why I realize I have missed half of what is going on as I look at Marabella. “Daddy, no! Please don’t touch me! You can’t touch me! No one can touch me!” Marabella shrieks as Ezra tears the gloves off her hands. Marabella is hysterical as she tries to pull away from him. “You don’t scare me; you are not a monster,” Ezra tells her firmly, and I feel my heart skip a beat as Marabella tries to rip her hands away. As I stand here and watch my child’s distress, I once again notice how hard it is to be the bystander that only stays aside and watches. I am grateful Ezra is here right now. He grabs her hands and presses them against his face. “You are not a monster, you hear me? You do not scare me, you’re my beautiful daughter. Look, nothing happened, see?” Marabella pulls away, but he refuses to let her hands go. Marabella holds her breath while Ezra stares at her, trying to get her to see she is not what they claim. “Dad, please,” Marabella begs. “Say it,” Ezra tells her, and she knows until she listens he won’t let it slide or let her go. “I’m not a monster,” Marabella tells him reluctantly, and another round of violent sobs escapes her. Ezra hushes her softly until she calms down and finally stops crying. He pulls her to him, hugging her little body tightly, and his eyes go to mine. “Alicia is not welcome here again,” Ezra says through the mind link. Pursing my lips, I glance back up the hall toward the kitchen. Mateo wanders off out the back. Yes, it is best if Mateo returns her to her mother; mine and Ezra’s tempers quickly erupt. He is definitely the calm one of us all. I know Alicia has something to do with her being upset. And I don’t trust myself not to give her mother the spanking her daughter deserves. I despise bullies; Marabella is a sweet girl. I just hope she can survive everyone else, and I’m determined to help her try. I know all too well what it feels like to be ostracized by your pack. “Don’t let what they say in, don’t let it in, Marabella. They are beneath you,” Ezra comforts her, and she nods against his shoulder, hugging him back. Ezra’s eyes flick up to mine. I see the unspoken worry in his eyes for our little girl.