Chapter 2 PACKLESS, VOICELESS, WOLFLESS

I stopped hoping someone would save me a long time ago.

The morning after the Ceremony, I walked through Blackfang Pack territory like a ghost in my own skin. No one spoke to me. Not even Milo. Not after what happened. Rejected in front of the entire pack. Marked by fate, then tossed aside like rotten meat.

The sting hadn't worn off.

Neither had the whispers.

"The Moon Goddess really picked her?" "He made the right call. Look at her." "Maybe she is cursed."

I kept my gaze fixed on the dirt path. Mud clung to my boots, each step heavier than the last. If I walked like I couldn't hear them, maybe I could convince myself they weren't there.

But they always were.

They trailed me like shadows, those voices. Carried through every hallway, every clearing, every breath I took in this damn place.

"Hey, Omega," someone called. I didn't turn.

A rock hit the back of my leg. Hard.

"Did you forget how to walk? You move like a slug."

I clenched my jaw and kept walking. Slow steps. Deep breaths. Don't give them what they want.

"Maybe she's deaf too," another voice laughed. "That would explain a lot."

Their laughter followed me all the way to the training lodge. I kept my face blank as I stepped inside, grabbed the mop and bucket, and started scrubbing dried blood off the sparring mats.

Beta Roran stalked past and dumped another bucket beside me with a loud splash. "Missed a spot."

"Yes, Beta," I murmured.

"What was that? Louder."

I forced my voice steady. "Yes, Beta."

He gave a satisfied grunt and walked off. I wanted to throw the bucket at his back, but I dipped the mop instead.

My arms burned as I scrubbed, each stroke a war. Dried blood clung to the rubbery surface like it didn't want to leave. My fingers ached from gripping the wooden handle.

I was halfway through the room when Lissa strode in. Her ponytail swished like a weapon behind her. She looked at me and smirked.

"Cleaning suits you. Makes sense. You're good at being beneath everyone."

I didn't reply.

"Nothing to say? That tongue of yours only works when you're whining to Milo?"

Still, I stayed silent. It was the only defense I had. But that didn't stop her.

She stepped closer. "I wonder what Kade would've done if you'd begged. Think he would've taken you behind the shed? Maybe sniffed around just once before tossing you for good?"

The mop handle snapped in my grip.

Lissa's eyes narrowed. "You better be careful, omega. Anger doesn't look good on you. Makes you less pathetic and more... dangerous."

She left with a final toss of her hair. I stared down at the broken mop in my hands, breathing fast.

By midday, I was reassigned to the kennels. Not for the wolves. For the actual dogs Blackfang used for hunting. My job? Muck out their cages, refill water, toss them scraps from the kitchen.

A puppy barked at me as I dragged a full bucket of filth past its cage.

"Yeah," I muttered. "That makes two of us in here."

Halfway through, I caught my reflection in the metal water dish. Dirt smudged across my cheek. My hair knotted at the ends.

Something about it twisted in my stomach.

Not because I looked broken.

Because I looked exactly how they wanted me to.

I dipped my hands in the water, scrubbed my face with shaking fingers, and hissed when the cold hit raw skin. There were claw marks on my neck I didn't remember getting.

Probably from training. Or yesterday. Or both.

The bell rang. Time for drills.

I didn't want to go. But if I skipped, they'd find me. And make it worse.

Afternoon drills meant group training. I changed into worn leggings and a shirt that still smelled like last week's blood. The training field stretched wide and open, surrounded by watching eyes.

Alpha Kade led the session, of course. I could feel his stare before he even said my name.

"Aurelia."

My name cracked across the clearing like a whip.

I stepped forward. Focused on breathing slowly. Calm. Unshaken.

"Pair with Lissa."

Of course.

Lissa was taller, stronger, meaner. The kind of wolf who smiled while making others bleed. We circled each other on the mat. Her smirk stretched wide.

"Don't break too easily," she said. "Kade's watching."

I didn't answer. Didn't rise to it.

I waited.

She lunged.

Her fist grazed my jaw. I stumbled, caught myself, rolled, came up fast. She grunted. Surprised.

"Oh? You've got some bite after all."

I dodged her next swing. Blocked the one after. Let instinct move faster than fear. We circled again.

But I knew how this ended. She swept my legs. I hit the ground hard. Wind knocked me out. Her knee pressed to my spine.

Kade didn't stop it.

Not until she leaned down and whispered, "Still think you belong here, freak?"

Then he called, "Enough."

Lissa stood, brushing dirt off her hands. I lay still for a second longer, breathing dust.

Kade sauntered over, slow. "Get up."

I did. Stiff. Bruised. Blood in my mouth.

He tilted his head. "You know, if you keep letting everyone walk over you, they'll forget you even exist."

"Wouldn't that be nice," I said.

His smile faded.

Later, I sat alone behind the storage shed, pressing ice to my ribs. Milo found me there.

"Saw your match," he said.

"Not a match. More like target practice."

He crouched beside me, holding out a bottle of water. I took it, sipped it.

"You didn't cry," he said.

"That's the win?"

"Today, yeah."

I leaned back against the wall. The cold from the ice soaked through the cloth. It stung. A reminder I was still here. Still feeling. Still fighting.

"Have you ever thought about leaving?" I asked.

He was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes. But where would I go?"

I didn't say it, but the answer echoed in my head: anywhere. Anywhere but here.

"You should rest," he added.

"Rest doesn't change anything."

He didn't argue. Just sat with me until the shadows grew long.

When he left, I stared at the sky. The stars hadn't come out yet, but the moon was rising. Just a sliver tonight. Still, something about it made my skin itch.

I wrapped my arms around my knees.

Wolfless. That's what they called me. What they'd always called me. I never shifted. Never felt the pull. Never heard the voice inside.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe I was broken.

But sometimes-sometimes, I dreamed of running. Fast. Free. Wild. And when I woke, the taste of wind lingered in my mouth like a dare.

I closed my eyes. Listened to the hum of the pack in the distance. Laughter, footsteps, the rustle of meat on open flame.

And beneath it, faint but clear-a growl.

Low. From inside me.

I froze.

My blood didn't chill.

It roared.