Chapter 2

I didn’t have all the answers, but I had a glimmer of hope, and that would have to be enough. I took one last look at the trees around me, the silent witnesses to my pain, before turning back toward the pack’s territory. I walked slowly, each step measured, trying to hold onto that tiny spark of resilience. By the time I reached the outskirts of the village, the first light of dawn was breaking through the horizon, casting a soft, pink hue over everything.

I hadn’t been missed. No one had come looking for me, but that wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t the first time I had wandered off, and everyone knew that the “wolfless warrior,” as they mockingly called me, wasn’t exactly a threat to herself or anyone else. I was just the sad girl with no wolf, the one they pitied more than they respected.

I slipped into the small, rundown cabin I called home, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before the day officially started. My bed creaked as I lay down, the mattress lumpy and uncomfortable, but it was mine. I pulled the thin blanket over myself and closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories of the night. But sleep didn’t come easily. My mind kept replaying Marcus’s rejection, the sneers of the pack, and the crushing weight of my own inadequacy. Eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted off into a restless slumber.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of voices outside. It was still early, but the pack was already up and about, preparing for whatever tasks needed to be done that day. I dressed quickly, pulling on the same worn clothes I always wore—a plain shirt and pants that had seen better days. As I stepped outside, the cool morning air hit me, refreshing and crisp, though it did little to chase away the heaviness that still lingered in my chest.

I didn’t have a particular destination in mind, so I wandered aimlessly through the village, trying to avoid the places where I knew the others would be. I wasn’t in the mood to face their stares or endure their whispers. But, as fate would have it, I couldn’t avoid them for long.

I was walking along the dirt path that led to the training grounds when a group of young warriors passed by. They were laughing and joking, their spirits high as they made their way toward their morning drills. I recognized them—Lukas, Darren, and a few others, all future leaders of the pack, all strong and confident in their abilities. Unlike me.

As they approached, I kept my eyes on the ground, hoping they would just walk past. But of course, they didn’t. Lukas, the ringleader of their little group, slowed his pace and glanced at me with that infuriating smirk he always wore. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and everything a young wolf should be. His blond hair was tousled in a way that looked effortlessly cool, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief—mischief that was usually at my expense.

“Hey, look who it is,” Lukas said loudly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The wolfless wonder. Out for a morning stroll, Emily?”

I ignored him and kept walking, but he wasn’t done. He stepped into my path, blocking my way, and the others quickly gathered around, forming a loose circle that I couldn’t easily escape from.

“What’s the matter?” Lukas continued, tilting his head in mock concern. “Not going to say good morning? That’s not very polite.”

I met his gaze, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I could see the challenge in his eyes. He wanted a reaction. He lived for it. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I’d learned that much, at least.

I shifted to the side, trying to move past him, but Lukas held out his arm, a cup of water in hand. The movement was so fast, I barely registered it before the water was sloshing over the rim, splashing onto my shirt.

“Oops,” he said with a faux gasp, his eyes wide with exaggerated surprise. “My bad. I didn’t mean to do that. Must be hard being you, huh? No wolf to protect you, no strength, no power. What’s going to happen to you now, huh, Emily? What’s the ‘wolfless warrior’ going to do?”

The others Laughed, and I felt my cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment, but I held my tongue. I wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Not today.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” Darren chimed in, grinning as he leaned closer. “Oh, wait. Not even a cat would want you, right? Too weak, too useless. What do you even do all day, Emily? Hide in your little shack and cry about how you’ll never be like us?”

The taunts hit their mark, each one a reminder of everything I lacked. But I refused to let them see how much it hurt. I kept my expression blank, my body tense as I waited for them to get bored and move on. It was a routine I had perfected over the years—endure the mockery, don’t react, and eventually, they’ll leave.

But Lukas wasn’t quite done. He took a step closer, towering over me, his voice dropping to a low, threatening tone. “You think you’re better than us because you keep your mouth shut? Is that it? You think we don’t see the way you look at us, with those sad little eyes? We’re the future of this pack, Emily. We’re the ones who will lead, who will protect. And you? You’ll always be nothing. No wolf, no mate, no purpose. Just a sad little orphan.”

His words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper than the last. But I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t. Showing weakness would only make it worse. So, I stood there, silent, as the laughter of the group surrounded me, mocking, cruel, and relentless.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lukas shrugged and stepped back. “Come on, guys. Let’s go. We’ve got better things to do than waste our time with someone who’s never going to matter.”

And just like that, they were gone, their laughter fading as they walked away, leaving me standing alone on the path, water dripping from my clothes and shame burning in my chest. I watched them go, a mix of anger and sorrow churning inside me, but still, I didn’t cry. Not here. Not where they could see.

Instead, I took a deep breath, wiped the remaining water from my face, and continued walking. There was nothing I could do about them. Nothing I could say or prove that would change their minds. So I had to focus on what I could control—myself, my actions, my determination to keep moving forward, even when it felt like the whole world was against me.

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After the encounter with Lukas and his gang, I made my way back to the village, my clothes still damp, but my resolve hardening with each step. There was no time to dwell on their cruel words or the sting of their laughter. The day was just beginning, and as much as I wanted to hide away, I had responsibilities to attend to—chores that, more often than not, made me feel more like a servant than a member of the pack.

For as long as I could remember, I had been the one tasked with the most menial jobs around the village. It started as soon as I was old enough to carry a bucket or sweep a floor. The other kids had been given real responsibilities—training, hunting, learning the skills that would one day make them valuable members of the pack. But me? I was given tasks that no one else wanted to do.

It was one of the many unspoken rules of the pack: those who didn’t contribute weren’t worth protecting. And without a wolf, I was already at a disadvantage. So, I worked hard, every day, to prove that I could still be of use, even if it meant doing the jobs that no one else wanted.

I reached the communal kitchen, where breakfast was already being prepared for the rest of the pack. The scent of cooking meat filled the air, making my stomach growl, but I knew better than to help myself before the others had eaten. Instead, I went to the side door, where a large pile of dirty dishes awaited me. No one was around to see, but I could imagine the looks I would get if I hesitated—disgust, pity, or worse, indifference.

With a sigh, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, scrubbing each plate and pot with practiced efficiency. The task was monotonous, but at least it allowed my mind to wander. As I worked, I tried not to think about Lukas and his friends, or about the fact that while they were out training, I was stuck here, doing chores that felt more like punishment than a contribution.