Chapter one

"You're doing it again, sweetheart."

I looked up from my plate, my brows furrowed. "Doing what?"

"Picking out all the vegetables."

"I don't consider onions as real food," I defended.

Mum gave me an amused smile, shaking her head. "You loved them when you were young."

"I've changed my mind."

She slid her plate over to me. "Give them to me, then. I won't let you waste it."

I scraped the onions onto her plate, and she happily took them, just as we had done countless dinners before.

My father sat across us, his eyes stuck on a pile of papers, food untouched. Mum looked at him, her expression softening.

"Honey, you should join Wren and I for tennis tomorrow."

He didn't respond for a few seconds. "You're both terrible at it."

"We've been practising," she nudged me. "Isn't that right?"

I smiled. "We have."

He didn't respond to us, nor did he look up from his papers.

My eyes drifted back to my food, and next to my plate, I could see Mum's fist clench. I knew what was coming after that. It was another thing that happened countless times.

"Wren," she said to me, her eyes still on my father. "Go get my phone upstairs."

In other words, 'Give me and your father some privacy.'

I pushed myself up without debate, grabbing my plate. Quickly, I went upstairs, skipping one step at a time. It was only after I disappeared down the hall where the shouting started.

I closed my bedroom door, dropping the plate on my desk. I walked to the windows, pushing them open and letting the cold night air in. The soft chirping of crickets filled the air, followed by the rustling of trees.

"Are you trying to hurt our daughter?" I heard Mum's voice. "Why must you always pretend like we don't exist to you, huh? Is your work really that important? Is money?"

I sighed. Always the same questions. Always the same responses.

"I don't want to do this right now, Sarah."

"We're doing this right now, Damien."

First-name basis was never a good sign between them.

A bright light caught my attention, and my eyes drifted to the gate. Two black jeeps pulled over in front of it, and I looked away.

Father had started having a lot of business meetings at our house lately. I wouldn't be surprised if these were his associates. Besides, we didn't have any other family besides ourselves.

I waited to see who would come out of the vehicles, but after two minutes of no movement, I shut my curtains and went to take a shower.

The doorbell rang as I slipped my clothes off.

The arguing was immediately silenced.

I reached for my hairband, tying it around my long strands in the most careless way I could have done it. A yawn escaped my mouth. I was tired. Mum and I had spent all day practicing tennis. We were getting better and better. I couldn't wait for tomorrow's session.

I started walking to the bathroom, my hand freezing over the doorknob when a loud crash echoed around the house. My head whipped to the door, as if I would see something burst through it.

Reaching for my bathrobe, I quickly slipped it on and stepped out of my room. I tightly wrapped it around my body as I made my way downstairs. Slowly, I came to a stop halfway down, my eyes taking in the scene.

There were men standing in the living room. I counted at least seven, all dressed in dark attire. One of them stood near the entrance while another moved towards the windows.

As if blocking them.

My father was standing in front of them, mum hiding behind his large frame. I noticed the huge vase that had shattered between them, with dirt all over what used to be white polished floors. That vase had been all the way by the front door, and it was full of soil. No one could have carried that on their own.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." My father said calmly. "Even if I did, coming in here and destroying my wife's vase is no way to go about dealing with it."

One of the men stepped forward, tall and wide in frame. His eyes had an unusual, almost orange, glow to them. Something about him, about all of them, felt very wrong.

"So you didn't steal our money?" He asked with a hard glare. He looked at the men behind him. "He must think we're brainless mutts."

They broke out into loud, ragged laughter. Mum shrunk further behind Father.

Father's expression remained calm. "You pay me to manage the forefront of your businesses. I have nothing to do with finances."

"Correct." The man snapped his fingers. "Your job is only to be the human face of our business. Imagine our surprise when we check the statements and the math doesn't add up."

Human face?

My stomach tightened. What was happening?

Father straightened his shirt. "That doesn't mean I had something to do with it."

The man stepped closer, his fists clenched. Was he going to hurt him?

I looked at Mum. She was almost pale from fear. Would they hurt her?

No. They couldn't.

My feet moved before I could process it.

"Dad?"

I hadn't called him that in years.

His head snapped towards me. "Wren, go upstairs. Take your mother with you."

I descended another step. "What's going on?"

"Go upstairs!"

The strangers all looked towards me. One of them whistled, making the rest laugh again.

The one in front of Father looked at him with a smirk. "Well, well, well."

My father moved in front of him. Mum stepped back, eyes wide. "These women are not involved."

"She's your daughter, isn't she?"

"Leave her out of this."

The stranger smiled. "You never mentioned having one. It seems I didn't know you much at all."

My father said nothing.

The man by the window approached the living room. "Enough talking. We want our money."

"I don't have it."

The room fell silent. Mum looked at him in disbelief. "What the hell do you mean you don't have it?"

Father ignored her, his eyes never leaving the men. "I need time to get it. When I do, I'll make sure I double it."

The men laughed again.

"Is he serious?"

"He is!"

"He thinks we're leaving this house without his head?"

I gulped. Father started looking around desperately. He was always so calm. I'd never seen him like this before.

His eyes settled on me, then Mum.

And I watched something change in his expression.

Something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Take them." He said, making the men stop laughing. They looked at him with raised brows.

My mother stiffened. "What?"

He pointed towards us. "My wife and daughter. You can have them."

I thought I'd misheard him.

He continued speaking, his voice becoming increasingly desperate.

"As long as you promise not to kill them, do whatever you please with them. I'll take them back when I pay you. My daughter has been sheltered her whole life. I can guarantee she's never been touched by a man. My wife... she's fertile. She'll give you pups."

My stomach turned in disgust. Mum stared at him in shock, as if she didn't know him at all.

But I did. I knew him.

This was my father.

The man who had bought me my first car. The man who had hired an artist to teach me how to paint. The man whose house I was standing in.

He was offering us to strangers.

"You're disgusting," Mum whispered.

He turned towards her, his expression pained. "It won't even last a week. I'll get you both back by then."

"You—you're telling them to... our daughter... how could you...?" These men will..."

"Don't make this difficult." My father snapped.

One of the men began laughing again. The sound made my blood run cold.

"Now that's an interesting offer. We might just consider it."

He looked at me, his eyes running down my exposed legs.

Mum looked at me quickly and mouthed. 'Balcony. Run.'

Without another second wasted, she spun on her heel and sprinted for the back door. They all looked at her in shock, and I followed suit, running back upstairs.

There was a balcony with stairs in my parents' bedroom. It would lead me right where she exited.

We met up by the backdoor. As soon as I got there, she grabbed my hand and dragged me for the trees. I wanted to ask what was going on. I needed to understand if what had happened was real.

A voice shouted behind us, and I sound I didn't understand followed.

I risked a glance over my shoulder.

The man who had been talking to Father was changing.

His body twisted and cracked in a sick, unnatural way. His shoulders widened as he dropped forward, his clothes ripping and exposing lengths of growing fur. Within moments, an enormous animal stood where he had been.

A hyena.

A real hyena.

But bigger. Much bigger.

The other men charged outside, changing just like he did.

"Mum!" I screamed. She pulled me harder.

"Don't look back, Wren!"

"Mum!" I choked back a sob.

"Run!" She breathed out.

"Run and don't stop."