Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Aneira

Drip… drip… drip… water dripped from the leaking roof onto my makeshift bed. I groaned as I rolled on to my side, hoping to avoid the water droplets. It was still dark out and I dreaded the morning, but anything was better than this misery. Whenever the rains came, people like me suffered.

I didn’t even have a blanket and I was forced to endure the harsh cold. Winter was a nightmare. I pushed myself off the bed and shuffled toward the barely lit fire. The moment my eyes landed on the wood pile, my stomach sank. Empty.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

I had hoped the stash would last me until at least I got paid. I was too weak to chop up the wood myself and too poor to afford to get any from the woodcutters.

I was miserable. I was born a hybrid, part witch, part wolf. In this part of the world, it means I got nothing. Yeah, the supreme goddess had a cruel sense of humor. No wolf, no magical powers, just black messy curls with silver strands, and the thickest thighs you’d find in the whole of Ashfang.

My hips brushed the edge of the table as I stood. I was not exactly the right prototype for a shewolf and my pack mates made sure to remind me of that everyday. At least, when they noticed me.

I loved every single thing about my body, my wide hips and thick things and Venus belly. They were what made me Aneira.What I loved most, though, were the freckles scattered across my cheeks and my golden amber eyes. But I could never fit in, at least not here. One more payment. That was all standing between me and freedom.

With a sigh, I knelt beside the bed and dragged the small wooden box out from beneath it. The bronze coins inside clinked together as I spilled them across the mattress.

“Ugh,” I groaned. I wouldn’t even have enough left for food and firewood this month. Every bronze coin went straight to the collector, and the wolf was a real pain in my ass.

My fingers curled around the ruby resting against my throat. It was one of the only things my mother had left behind. Before her death, my father used to smile more. Before her death, this pack had almost felt like a home.

The other gift sat beside my bed; a worn book with frayed pages and a cracked spine. I’d read it so many times I nearly knew every word by heart, but on nights like this, sleep never came unless I read it.

By the time I’d made it halfway through the book, pale morning light had begun to seep through the cracks in the shack walls.

With a sigh, I set the book aside and pulled on my thick leggings and oversized sweater. The cold still clung to the air as I counted the collector’s coins one last time before slipping them into my waist pouch.

Then I stepped outside.

The morning air bit at my skin as I made my way toward the collector’s office. I twisted my curls into a messy bun and kept my eyes lowered, hoping, as always, to go unnoticed.

The pack was already awake.

Smoke curled from chimneys into the pale gray sky while wolves moved through the muddy pathways between houses, some carrying baskets, others preparing carts for the morning market. The scent of burning wood and fresh bread drifted through the air, cruelly reminding me just how empty my stomach was.

I tightened my hold on the pouch at my waist.

A group of young wolves stood near the training grounds ahead, laughing loudly amongst themselves. My steps slowed instinctively.

“Look who finally crawled out of her hole.”

My shoulders tensed.

Of course.

Darian leaned against the wooden fence surrounding the grounds, broad arms crossed over his chest while the others snickered behind him. He was an upper-ranked wolf, son of one of the pack’s hunters, which meant he’d spent most of his life believing the goddess herself had blessed the ground beneath his feet.

Unfortunately for the rest of us, he acted like it too.

“Well,” he continued, eyes dragging slowly over me, “if it isn’t Ashfang’s favorite mutt.”

The others laughed.

I kept walking.

Years ago, their words used to hurt enough to make me cry. Now they were just exhausting.

“Careful,” another one muttered loudly. “The ground might crack beneath her.”

More laughter.

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself forward.

That was the thing about people like them. They wanted a reaction. Anger. Tears. Anything they could feed on to make themselves feel bigger.

I had learned long ago not to give them the satisfaction.

Still, heat crawled up my neck as I passed.

Darian clicked his tongue. “Ignoring me now?”

I stared straight ahead.

“One day,” he called after me, amusement coating his voice, “you’re going to realize no one wants someone who looks like you.”

The words landed harder than I wanted them to.

Not because I believed him, but because a small, ugly part of me wondered if the rest of the world did too. My fingers brushed the ruby at my throat before I could stop myself.

Then I kept walking.

The collector’s office sat near the center of the pack territory, larger than most buildings around it. Wolves came and went through the front entrance carrying ledgers, sacks of coins, and paperwork.

I hated this place.

The moment I stepped inside, warmth wrapped around me, thick with the scent of cedarwood and ink.

And greed.

“Next,” a bored voice called.

I moved toward the desk quietly, already reaching for the pouch at my waist.

The collector barely looked at me at first. His quill scratched lazily across parchment before his eyes finally lifted.

Then his lip curled.

“Aneira.”

I placed the coins onto the table carefully. “This month’s payment.”

The wolf eyed the small pile before leaning back in his chair with a slow smirk.

“Bit short this time, aren’t we?”

“A bit short?” I repeated quietly. “It’s the same amount I bring every month.”

The collector hummed as he leaned back in his chair, thick fingers lazily sorting through the bronze coins.

“Well,” he drawled, “your father’s debt grows faster than you pay it off.”

My jaw clenched.

“There’s interest now?”

“There’s always interest.” His eyes lifted slowly to mine before dragging lower, lingering long enough to make my skin crawl. “Especially for those who make things difficult.”

I fought the urge to take a step back.

“I’ve never missed a payment.”

“No.” His lips curled into something that barely resembled a smile. “But you’ve refused every generous offer I’ve made.”

There it was.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my waist pouch.

“I’m not interested.”

A low chuckle left him. “Shame. You’d think someone in your position would be smarter.”

Heat crept up my neck, equal parts humiliation and anger.

“My father borrowed the money,” I said stiffly. “Not me.”

“And yet here you are paying for his mistakes.” He shrugged. “Life is unfair, Aneira.”

He pushed the coins around idly before sighing dramatically. “Truthfully, I’m trying to help you.”

“Your father was a drunk debtor who could barely keep a roof over your head after your mother died,” he continued casually, like he was discussing the weather. “If not for my patience, you would’ve been thrown out of this pack years ago.”

My chest tightened painfully.

“Don’t talk about my family.”

“Why not? Everyone else does.”

The room suddenly felt too warm.

The collector leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You know… there are easier ways for a girl like you to clear a debt.”

Disgust rolled through me instantly.

“I said no.”

“You haven’t even heard the offer.”

“I don’t need to.”

His eyes darkened slightly at my tone.

For a moment, silence stretched between us.

Then he clicked his tongue and reached for the ledger beside him.

“Pity,” he murmured as he scribbled something onto the page. “Looks like the interest has increased again.”

My stomach dropped.

“You can’t just keep adding to it whenever you want.”

He looked up slowly. “Can’t I?”

Rage flared hot beneath my skin, but I swallowed it down. Wolves like him fed on reactions.

Still, my voice came out tighter than I intended. “How much now?”

“Enough that your tiny little payments won’t clear it anytime soon.”

The words hit like a slap. I would never be free.

The collector watched my expression carefully before leaning back again.

“Fortunately for you,” he said, “there may be another option.”

I hated the glint in his eyes immediately.

“What option?”

“There’s a position opening up at the Alpha estate.”

My brows pulled together slightly.

“A maid recently left.” His smile widened. “The pay is significantly better than what you make sorting herbs and cleaning tavern tables.”

Something uneasy twisted in my stomach.

Working at the Alpha estate meant being surrounded by upper-ranked wolves every single day.

More eyes.

More whispers.

More humiliation.

“I’m not interested.”

The collector laughed softly. “You should stop saying that before life decides your choices no longer matter.”

My silence only seemed to amuse him more.

“You start tomorrow.”