"See, Ember? I told you it would be fine."
Willow's voice drifted down from the plum tree, light and airy. She perched high among the branches, her small nine-year-old frame surrounded by fruit so dark it looked bruised against the green leaves. A wild mane of copper curls bounced as she shifted, catching bits of sunlight, while her bright green eyes sparkled with reckless triumph.
Ember stood at the base of the trunk, fingers digging into the rough bark. A cold knot of unease curled in her chest, tightening with every inch Willow climbed.
"Seriously, Willow," she said, her voice trembling. "You should get back down. I don't feel right about this."
"Relax, I've got this," Willow chirped, adjusting her grip. She stretched farther out, her small hand straining toward a heavy cluster of plums. "Just think about how juicy they'll be."
Ember watched from below, hands twisting together until her knuckles turned white. The orchard felt too still, the silence suddenly heavy.
Then came the crack.
Sharp. Sickening.
The branch beneath Willow's foot snapped.
"Willow!"
Ember jolted upright, a scream tearing from her throat and shattering the quiet of her tiny room.
Sweat drenched her skin, her thin tank top clinging to her ribs. Her heart slammed against her sternum, breath ripping in jagged gasps that burned her lungs.
"Dammit," she muttered, the word shaking as it left her lips.
She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to rub away the image of the fall. Twelve years. Twelve years since the ground claimed her best friend, yet the nightmare stayed fresh, a recurring debt she had to pay every time she closed her eyes.
With a long, shuddering exhale, she glanced at the bedside table.
The digital clock glowed red.
11:00.
"Shit."
Ember scrambled out of bed, sheets tangling around her legs. The Awakening Ceremony began at midnight. She had meant to rest for twenty minutes after her shift at the supermarket, but the exhaustion of hauling crates of produce had dragged her under.
Now, she had exactly one hour to reach the pack house.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it," she muttered as she tore across the tiny room.
Her room was barely more than a box. Narrow bed. Peeling wallpaper. A single dresser and a cracked mirror. She yanked on dark jeans and a black sweater, hopping as she wrestled into her sneakers. Her heel snagged. She lurched forward, shoulder slamming into the wall.
"Son of a bitch," she hissed.
She dragged a brush through her dark, shoulder-length curls hard enough to sting, gave up halfway, and grabbed her keys. She bolted outside, locked the door with a frantic twist, and sprinted away from her isolated cottage.
Living on the outskirts of the city was a deliberate choice by the Blood Fang Pack. They wanted her far enough away that her curse wouldn't rub off on their prized children.
She tore down the narrow, overgrown path toward the main road. By the time her feet hit the pavement, her chest was heaving. A yellow public transport bus rumbled toward her. Ember waved frantically.
The driver slowed. His eyes met hers.
Recognition flickered.
His jaw set, and he floored the accelerator, leaving her coughing in a cloud of diesel exhaust.
"Rot in hell!" she screamed at the red taillights.
Another car slowed to a crawl. Hope sparked. Ember reached for the handle.
The driver sneered and sped off before her fingers touched metal.
Of course.
No one in Blood Fang territory would give her a lift. She was the girl whose parents died before they could even hold her. A walking bad omen. Still, she had hoped that for the sacredness of the Awakening, someone might show a shred of pack unity.
"I guess I'll have to trek," she whispered.
The walk to the pack house took fifty-five minutes on a good day. She had already wasted ten playing roulette with traffic. If she didn't run, she'd miss the most important night of her life.
Can things ever go my way for once?
She pushed into a punishing speedwalk, curls bouncing loose around her shoulders.
By the time the iron gates of the Blood Fang Pack house loomed ahead, her legs felt like lead. She bent over, gasping. Cars still turned into the long driveway. Parents ushered their dormant teenagers inside.
Relief loosened her chest.
"I made it."
BEEP!
A deafening horn blasted inches from her spine. A sleek SUV swerved, its side mirror clipping her shoulder hard enough to spin her. Ember hit the gravel, stones biting into her palms.
A blond head leaned out the passenger window. "Watch it, filthy pig!" Zev cackled, blue eyes bright with malice.
The car rolled on.
Ember sat in the dirt as families passed. No one stopped. No one asked if she was okay.
I swear, Zev is the first person I'm attacking once I awaken my wolf.
She pushed herself up, brushing dust from her jeans.
"And that twin sister of his."
"Are you coming in, or are you going to stand there and rot?" the gate guard barked. "I'm locking this in three seconds."
"I'm coming!" Ember scrambled through the narrowing gap just as the iron gate slammed shut behind her.
"Damn curse," the guard muttered. "Don't know why a thing like her is allowed at a sacred ceremony."
Ember kept her head down.
Up ahead stood Zev and Zoe. Perfect clothes. Perfect hair. Their parents, the Beta and his mate, were likely already inside with the Alpha.
"Ugh, I don't have time for this," Ember whispered.
The twins were her primary tormentors. Most people just ignored her, but Zoe and Zev made it their hobby to ensure she knew she was unwanted.
"I wish the car would have just run her over," Zev said loudly as she approached. "Save us all the eyesore tonight."
Zoe giggled, smoothing her pale blue dress. "Careful. She might haunt us."
Ember stared straight ahead, picking up her pace to bypass them.
"Are you deaf, you little bitch?"
Before she could react, Zev stepped out and shoved her hard from behind. Ember hit the stone walkway, knees slamming painfully.
"How dare you ignore me?" Zev sneered, towering over her. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Zev, stop. You're hurting her," Zoe said, her voice sweetly fake. She wasn't looking at Ember anymore; her eyes were fixed past her.
"What do you think you're doing, Zev?"
A voice cut through the night. Ember looked up.
Axel.
The Alpha's son stood a few feet away, dark hair shadowing half his face. One icy blue eye fixed on Zev with terrifying calm.
"Shouldn't you two be heading to the ceremonial grounds?" Axel asked.
Zev paled. Zoe dragged him away without a word.
Axel turned to Ember. "What are you still doing down there?" His voice held no cruelty, but no kindness either. "Do you need me to carry you to the ceremony?"
Her face burned.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, scrambling to her feet.
She limped away, heart racing for reasons she didn't understand. Axel was impossible to read. Sometimes he intervened. Sometimes he passed her like she didn't exist.
To him, she was nothing.
Her steps faltered as something stirred deep within her, restless and alive.
After tonight, nobody would dare touch me again.
She pressed a hand to her ribs, steadying the tremor.
And for the first time, she smiled.