SILVER IN THE SHADOWS
“You’re useless.”
I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name.
“I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.”
He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.”
My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—”
“She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.”
I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.”
“No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.”
He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.”
The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back.
Behind him, the pack howls in celebration.
I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet.
But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient.
They call me useless.
One day, they’ll choke on that word.