Chapter 4

"First place."

When my mentor handed me the award notice in his office, he looked more excited than I was.

"The only perfect score in the Nationals. This means you get a $6,000 cash prize, and direct admission to Winterhaven Werewolf Academy, with no Pack recommendation letter needed!"

More importantly, the paper I submitted in the finals, "Pharmacological Analysis of Psychological Stress on the Scent of Marginalized Pack Members," made Silas on the judging panel deeply intrigued by this girl he had never met.

I folded the award notice and slipped it into my backpack pocket.

On the way home, I thought long and hard about whether to tell them.

I wasn't hesitating; I was rehearsing.

I rehearsed every possible reaction my mother might have.

Best case: She says "Not bad," and goes back to talking about my sister.

Average case: She forgets to ask what competition it was.

Worst case: She says "What's the point of a potion competition? It doesn't boost the Pack's fighting strength."

When I got home, the scent of premium black tea and macarons floated through the first-floor hall.

A small afternoon tea party for the Pack's elite women was underway.

Sitting across from my mother was Martha, the Luna of another powerful pack in the Alliance, and her daughter, Elara, who recently had her first shift.

The marble coffee table was covered in fine porcelain. My sister Chloe was elegantly displaying a high-level healing spell she just learned. The soft light made the guests praise her repeatedly.

"Chloe is truly gifted. She'll definitely be the most sought-after Head Healer in the Alliance one day." Lady Martha picked up her teacup, grinning from ear to ear.

My mother Valerie was being modest, but her vanity as a Luna was vastly satisfied. The proud smile on her lips couldn't be hidden. "Martha, you flatter her. She still needs more practice."

My brother pulled up a chair and sat next to them, handing my sister healing crystals.

My father was in the study hosting other Alpha members.

I changed my shoes and walked in. Lady Martha glanced at me with a condescending look:

"Isn't this Freya? I hear you're almost an adult. Has your Inner Wolf shown any signs of awakening yet?"

My mother's smile stiffened. She took a sip of her tea, seemingly annoyed by my presence.

"Her condition... is still under observation."

"Still under observation?" Lady Martha turned to her daughter. "Our Elara just had her first shift last week. A very pure silver-gray coat. Even the future Alpha of the neighboring Blackwood Pack sent a Full Moon gift."

At that, I swallowed the words about my award notice.

Elara picked at her freshly manicured nails and gave me a condescending fake smile.

"Freya, it's actually fine if your Inner Wolf doesn't awaken. Living a peaceful, normal life in human society is nice. If you really can't find a job, when I get my own territory, you can come help tend my gardens."

She said my name, but her tone was like giving charity to a pathetic bug.

At dinner, the tea party was over, but the family was still riding the high of winning the comparison game.

"I hear the Blackwood Pack is recruiting a lot of elite warriors this year. Jace is just in time for this batch of special training."

My mother discussed it excitedly.

Before she finished, Chloe held up her phone. The screen was bright.

"Mom, look! The preliminary shortlist for the High Healers Association is out. I'm on it!"

Everyone's attention was instantly sucked away.

My mother snatched the phone. My father came down the stairs asking what happened. My brother let out an exaggerated cheer.

"Shortlisted? Thank the Moon Goddess! Chloe, you're amazing!"

"When is the competition? I'm personally going to the Elders Council to pick the best protective amulet for you." My father Alaric laughed loudly and patted Chloe's shoulder.

"Chloe is truly the pride of our Pack."

The whole hall echoed with my sister's name.

Chloe, Chloe, Chloe.

Like a pebble tossed into water, the ripples spread out circle by circle.

I stood at the very outer edge of the ripples, quietly. Not even a splash reached me.

The award notice was still in my backpack pocket.

I decided not to take it out.

Taking it out would only mean getting drowned out.

Or worse, being told, "You can't always try to steal your sister's thunder."

After the guests left, I helped clean up the hall.

My mother was organizing my sister's spell charts. My father had gone back to the study to handle territory business.

Several high-end dress catalogs were scattered on the sofa. As I went to tidy them, I saw the corner of a silver-gray envelope sticking out from under a throw pillow.

I pulled it out and saw it was a private itinerary for the "Moonstone Hot Springs Resort."

For next month.

A top-tier luxury resort closed to ordinary werewolves.

Flight booking info for four people.

Alaric, Valerie, Jace, Chloe.

Four people. Under the guise of a "Pack Core Leadership Vacation."

The dates were exactly the week of my eighteenth birthday—my coming-of-age ceremony.

They were going on a family vacation for four during the most important week of my life.

They didn't even pretend they forgot.

Because they never planned on taking me from the start.

I shoved the itinerary back under the pillow.

I went back to my room and didn't turn on the light.

Moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, shining on the zipper of my suitcase.

I didn't cry.

Crying in this house was too much of a luxury. Even if tears fell, no one would catch them.

I turned on my phone. I used the $6,000 prize money to pay for a flight up North and confirmed my enrollment at Winterhaven Academy.

Name, ID, contact info, home address...

My finger hovered over the screen for a few seconds.

Then I typed a new address.

A place I hadn't been to yet, but was about to go.

Submit.

The page refreshed. A green wolf crest appeared. Registration successful.

At 4 AM, my alarm vibrated. The whole house was asleep.

I got dressed. When I rolled my suitcase through the first-floor hall, I glanced at the sofa.

That itinerary for four was still under the pillow. The corner sticking out looked like a thorn in the dark.

I didn't stop.

I gently opened the door and gently closed it.

The motion-sensor light in the hallway flickered on, then off.

When I reached the manor gates, the sun wasn't up yet.

The taxi I booked was already waiting outside the territory borders.

As the car drove out of the Pack gates, I looked back at the Pack House.

The main building. Second window from the right. Chloe's sunroom. The curtains were drawn tight.

Inside were three carefully prepared rooms. Four loved people.

And me, the one who was never written into the itinerary.

The terminal hall was empty. There weren't many passengers for a red-eye flight.

I sat on a metal chair in the waiting area, my suitcase at my feet.

The PA system announced flight info.

My phone lit up. It was a family group message.

My mother sent a text: "Chloe's dress for the regionals is decided. We went with the moon-white custom gown."

My father's reply: "Perfect. As expected of my daughter."

My brother followed up with: "Cool."

My sister replied with a few sparkling hearts.

No one asked, "Where is Freya?"

No one noticed my storage room was empty, my bed was empty.

Boarding started.

I stood up and dragged my suitcase down the jet bridge.

Outside the window, the sky was turning a faint blue. The city lights were going out one by one.

I found my seat and buckled up.

The plane was slowly pushed back by the tow truck and began to taxi.

The engines roared to life. It felt like a giant hand, finally yanking me out of that toxic pack.

One last message popped up on my phone. A private text from my mother:

"Freya, we're leaving for a few days next week. Make sure you brew Chloe's calming potions for the trip in advance and pack them in her suitcase. Don't mess up the dosage."

I looked at the text and laughed.

That was the funniest part. She knew perfectly well there was no place for me on next week's trip, yet she still took it for granted that I should serve them.

I pulled out my SIM card and threw it into the trash bag beside me, along with the past eighteen years.

The plane shot up to 30,000 feet. That territory called home got smaller and smaller until it became an invisible dot.

And my world had just started getting bigger.