Chapter Two

The morning light crept into the attic, pale and weak, painting thin stripes on the dusty floorboards. My eyes burned from lack of sleep. I had tossed and turned all night, but no dream or darkness could ease the heaviness pressing on my chest.

The echoes of last night’s celebration still clung to me. Cheers, laughter, the sound of mugs clinking. My brother had shifted, and the pack had rejoiced. But me? I had sat in this cage of an attic, curled up on a thin mattress, forgotten.

I rubbed my hands over my face and whispered to myself, “I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.”

The words cracked in the silence, but hearing them out loud gave me a strange spark of courage.

A plate of food still sat in the corner, Leah’s attempt at kindness. The meat had turned gray, the bread was stiff. My stomach twisted painfully, but I shoved it aside. Hunger had become my shadow, a quiet friend that reminded me I was still alive.

I thought of Theo—my twin, my brother. Did he feel the weight of the pack’s cheers? Or did he soak them in like sunlight? My jaw tightened. Of course he did. Theo had everything. A wolf. A future. A place. And me? Dust, silence, nothing.

I stood, stiff and aching, and pulled the thin blanket around my shoulders. My heart pounded harder with each step toward the attic door. “Not today,” I muttered under my breath. “I won’t stay hidden today.”

The door creaked softly as I pushed it open.

The hallway was dim, the torches nearly burned out. I crept down the stairs, placing each step with care, willing the wood not to betray me. My senses felt sharp, every sound like a thunderclap in the quiet.

When I reached the corner, I pressed my back against the cold stone wall. Voices drifted from the dining hall. Laughter, the scrape of chairs, the clatter of plates. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread made my mouth water and my chest ache.

I leaned forward just enough to see.

The dining hall glowed with firelight. My father stood at the head of the long table, tall and proud. His voice carried easily over the noise. My mother sat beside him, her gaze fixed adoringly on Theo. My brother laughed, smiling as if he’d never known sorrow. The warriors pounded the table with their fists, cheering his name. Even the elders bowed their heads in respect.

I whispered bitterly, “And me? A ghost in the dark.”

For a heartbeat, I imagined stepping into the light. I imagined my father’s arms lifting me, my mother’s smile softening, Theo reaching for me the way he used to when we were children.

But the dream shattered with my father’s voice, sharp and cold:

“She will not shame us further. Do you hear me? She stays hidden. She is nothing to this pack.”

My stomach dropped. I pressed a trembling hand against the wall to steady myself.

Another voice, one of the elders, spoke low but firm. “Alpha, the rogues grow bold near our borders. Perhaps—”

“Let them come,” my father cut him off. “They will not survive our strength. And if they take the weak…” His pause was heavy. “Then so be it.”

The words burned. My knees wobbled. He would not care if I vanished. He might even welcome it.

I stumbled back, biting hard on my lip to hold in the sob clawing at my throat. My father’s laughter followed me as I fled up the stairs, through the back corridor, and out into the night.

The forest swallowed me whole.

The cool air stung my cheeks as I ran. Branches whipped against my arms, and dry leaves crunched under my feet. I ran until my lungs ached, until the roar of celebration was far behind me, until there was nothing but the hush of the trees and the thrum of my own heart.

Finally, I collapsed against a rough tree trunk, gasping for breath. I tilted my head back. The moon hung above me, silver and merciless. A cruel reminder of what I was not.

I pressed my forehead against the bark and whispered, “Why me? Why no wolf? Why nothing?” My voice cracked. “Moon Goddess, do you even see me?”

The silence answered.

Then—

A growl.

Low. Deep. Hungry.

I froze, every muscle locking in place. Slowly, I lifted my head. The shadows between the trees shifted. And then I saw them.

Two glowing red eyes, low to the ground. Staring straight at me.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Another growl joined the first, rumbling like thunder. Then a second pair of eyes glowed in the dark. Then a third.

My lips trembled. “No, no, no…”

They were rogues. Wolves without pack, without mercy.

The eyes moved closer, circling. The growls vibrated in my bones. I stumbled backward, my breath coming fast and shallow.

“Don’t run,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t breathe. Just—just stay calm.”

But calm was impossible when death was staring at you.

A rogue stepped forward, its shape just visible now. Ragged fur, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. Its snarl filled the night, cruel and eager.

My legs shook so badly I could barely stand. I had no claws, no wolf, no strength. I was prey, nothing more.

The rogues crept closer.

One paw scraped the ground, ready to spring.

I gasped, my back hitting another tree. I was trapped. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

The closest wolf crouched, muscles coiling. Its eyes glowed brighter, locked on me.

And then—

A growl.

Low. Cold. Commanding.

The growls from the rogues stopped instantly, as if the night itself had frozen.

The rogues whimpered, shifting uneasily in the shadows.

I looked around wildly, my breath ragged. My gaze caught on the trees, the shadows, the darkness that suddenly felt heavier.

And then, for the briefest moment, I saw them.

Eyes. Not red this time.

Grey. Piercing. Watching me.

My chest seized. The world tilted. And before I could call out, the darkness swallowed me whole.