เข้าสู่ระบบI woke up to pain. Not the sharp kind that steals your breath, but something heavier, more persistent—like a weight pressing down from the inside. It settled into every movement, every breath, making even stillness feel like effort. So I stayed where I was, eyes closed, letting the sensation anchor me in place. And I thought. I couldn’t stay here anymore. My family was gone, and this pack… this pack was no longer a home. Somewhere along the way, it had lost something essential. Compassion. Loyalty. The instinct to protect the weak instead of turning away from them. I didn’t belong here. I had to leave. Soon. They kept me in the healing house only as long as necessary—just enough to make sure I wouldn’t die. Then, I was moved. To the dungeon. The moment I stepped inside, the sound of voices greeted me. I wasn’t alone, as I expected. My mind was still too slow, too clouded. But gradually, faces began to take shape. A young warrior with a poorly wrapped arm. An older woman
Chapter 6 The whip lay coiled on the stone bench beside Aron. For a moment, no one moved. The evening air felt colder than it should have been. The courtyard walls trapped the silence, pressing it down over all of us. I wanted to scream. To tell them how unfair it all was. How none of it had ever been my fault. Not my missing wolf. Not my missing parents. And certainly not this pendant. I wanted to tell them that even now, after everything that had happened, there was still a chance to mend what they had broken. I would forgive it all. I loved this pack like a family. I still do. But this… this was a line they should never cross. This was them rejecting me. As a pack member. As a mate. As a person. I wanted to cry. To beg. To make them see. And maybe I should. “Are you sure?” I asked, looking at my mate. “Is this your final word?” I searched his eyes. Waiting for even the smallest flicker of something. Something worth fighting for. Nothing. He didn’t answer. He didn
5 days later When I arrived, the yard was empty. The laughter that usually greeted me was gone. Inside, the children were sitting in rows behind desks while an instructor stood in front of the room. “Extra lessons,” one of the caretakers explained when she noticed me standing by the door. “The Alpha ordered a new program for the younger ones.” I nodded, pretending it made perfect sense. Of course it did. The children barely looked up when I waved. They were already busy copying something from the board. Training. Lessons. Discipline. Order above all. I stayed only a minute before quietly stepping outside again. The walk back to the house felt longer than usual. By the time I reached the door, the sun was already setting. For a moment I simply stood there, staring at the dark windows. He is doing it on purpose, I thought. He is taking everything from me. Slowly. Methodically. Maybe the nostalgia for what I once had — and the primal need to belong to a pack — were the s
In the days that followed, changes began to appear everywhere. Patrols along the borders doubled. Training sessions started earlier and ended later. Warriors who had once joked with one another in the yard now moved with a sharper focus. At first the pack welcomed it. Strength always brings comfort. But slowly the atmosphere shifted. Order had replaced warmth, and the pack no longer felt like a family. It felt like an army. And in an army, everyone must have a purpose. I tried to find mine. The next morning, I went to the training yard. It had once been my favorite place in the pack. The ground still carried the marks of hundreds of sparring matches, and the scent of dust and sweat clung to the air. But when I stepped into the ring, the conversation around me quieted. The warriors greeted me politely enough, yet none of them asked me to join. I stood awkwardly in the center of the ring where I grew up and for the first time I really felt like an outsider in my pack. “Resum
The pack was left in the hands of the Beta family. Again. And I was left to think about what to do from now on. There was a huge possibility that I would never be truly a werewolf. In fact, according to our history 18th was the last threshold. My parents' obsession with believing I had a wolf worried me deeply. Every time I waited to see the disappointment, the betrayal in their eyes. But they were so firm that even I was keeping a small flame of home alive deep in me. What will happen when returning empty-handed again. I had tried to come to terms with that. For the first time in my life, I felt that the path ahead of me was empty. No wolf. No destiny. No place waiting for me in the pack. Maybe the only thing left was to leave. To travel for a while or longer. To find some small purpose in a life that had lost its meaning. And maybe let myself grieve. To give broken heart a chance to heal. I had no idea that fate was already preparing something else. --- Two weeks pas
A year later. Sixteen. The age when a wolf answers. The clearing was filled once again. Torches circled the altar. Warriors lined the perimeter. Children were lifted onto shoulders. My father’s voice carried across the gathering. “Tonight, our future steps fully into her power.” Cheers erupted. The moon climbed higher, silver light washing over the clearing. I closed my eyes and waited. Heat should have followed. Then pressure. Then the first whisper of another presence inside my mind. I knew it all. The silence stretched. Nothing. The wind brushed through the trees. I reached inward. Nothing reached back. Silence. Emptiness. My mother stepped forward before doubt could spread. “Arria is powerful,” she said steadily. “And powerful wolves do not rush.” Relief rippled outward. Whispers of confirmation followed. “Of course.” “Sure.” “She will shift at eighteen then” “Yes,” I told myself. I opened my eyes and lifted my chin. “Yes. Eighteen.” My father placed a firm h







