Raging Destruction of Ember

Aria’s POV

The morning sun barely peeked through the small, grimy window of my cramped bedroom—a glorified storage closet, really. I sat up on the thin mattress and rubbed my eyes, the sound of my mother’s voice already ringing from downstairs.

“Aria! Are you going to sleep all day?” Her words were laced with annoyance, the familiar edge that made me dread getting up each morning. “Get down here and start the breakfast. Lila has a busy day, and I won’t have her waiting on you.”

Taking a steadying breath, I pulled on the faded sweater and jeans I’d worn the day before. They were the only clothes I owned, all hand-me-downs from Lila. Nothing new, nothing truly mine. Everything about my life was a reflection of how little I mattered.

As I entered the kitchen, my mother’s eyes flicked over me, a look of disappointment flashing in them, as if even the sight of me was a reminder of something she'd rather forget. I moved to the stove and started scrambling eggs, my hands moving automatically. Beside me, Lila leaned against the counter, smirking.

“Don’t burn the eggs, Aria,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “You know how Mother hates it when you mess up. Again.”

She grinned, her beauty—something everyone praised her for—seeming sharper, more menacing. In every way that I was small and plain, Lila was radiant and adored. She had her wolf, her status, and everyone in the pack respected her. I couldn’t say the same for myself.

“Maybe she can’t help it,” my mother said, looking at me with that all-too-familiar sneer. “Wolfless and useless.” She sighed heavily. “If only we hadn’t lost Oliver…” Her words trailed off, but the implication hung in the air like a dark cloud. Oliver was my little brother. Thinking about him brought a fresh wave of sadness over me.

I couldn't even dare to remember what he looked like, or say his name anymore.

Memories of that fateful night came flooding back and I flinched. I could still picture my hands covered in blood. His blood.

I swallowed back the hurt and pain, focusing on stirring the eggs, willing my hands not to shake and tears not to fall.

Soon, the pack house started filling with people—warriors and higher-ranking members preparing for the day. They barely acknowledged me as I moved around, serving food, refilling drinks, cleaning up. To them, I was invisible—the wolfless daughter, the girl who couldn’t measure up to her sister.

“Move faster, Aria,” barked one of the senior warriors as he passed, shoving me aside to grab his drink. “Honestly, you’re more of a nuisance than anything.”

I forced a nod, biting my lip to hold back a response. It was always like this, from dawn until dusk—orders, insults, scorn. And no matter what I did, I could never escape the shadow Lila had cast over my life.

By afternoon, I was cleaning the training room when a group of pack members came in, laughing. I recognized Orion among them, the Alpha’s second son, his piercing gaze raking over the room until he landed on me. He barely ever spoke to me, but whenever our eyes met, I felt a strange, intense connection I didn’t understand. Today, though, his gaze was cold, almost disdainful.

“Still here, Aria?” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying a mocking edge that made my stomach twist. “I figured you would have found somewhere else to hide by now.”

The others laughed, and I felt my face flush with shame. Orion’s words hurt, even more so because a part of me had always wished he’d seen me differently. I've always had this huge crush on him but my sister made it clear to everyone that I was the failure of the family.

No one wanted me.

I forced myself to keep scrubbing, ignoring the laughter, pretending I couldn’t hear the whispers. They moved closer, making comments about how I’d probably never shift, how I was a liability to the pack, how I was better off leaving. The taunts blurred together, each word chipping away at the small pieces of dignity I had left.

As the group finally left, I sank onto my knees, my hands trembling, a lump forming in my throat. This was my life—a constant cycle of humiliation and rejection, of yearning for acceptance that would never come. I wanted to scream, to tell them that I'm human too and I deserve a chance to be happy. But I knew it would only make things worse.

But do I really deserve to be happy after what I did?

By the time I finished cleaning, the sky outside had darkened, and the pack house was quiet. I slowly made my way back to my room, exhaustion weighing me down like a heavy cloak. My mother crossed my path in the hallway, her lips curling into a disdainful smile.

“Done with your duties?” she asked, feigning sweetness, though her eyes were filled with contempt. “Good. Don’t forget—you’re only here because of my pity, Aria. The least you could do is show some gratitude.”

“Yes, Mother,” I murmured, bowing my head.

As she walked away, I felt a surge of anger bubble within me—a raw, simmering anger that I rarely allowed myself to feel. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to scream, to hit something, to let them all know the pain they’d buried me under. But I swallowed it down, forcing myself to stay quiet, to keep the mask of obedience firmly in place.

In the silence of my small room, I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if there was a place out there where I could be free. A place where I didn’t have to live in my sister’s shadow, where I wasn’t weighed down by guilt for things I hadn’t done.

As my eyes drifted shut, I let myself imagine that somewhere, somehow, I’d find a way to escape. But as reality settled back in, I knew it was just a dream—a fleeting, impossible wish that would never come true. And with that, I drifted into a restless sleep, dreading the dawn and all it would bring.