Chapter 2
I followed behind my mother, wrapped in the oversized jacket she'd thrown over my shoulders. Though she'd helped me wipe away the pond mud, the cold and humiliation had seeped into my bones like a permanent stain.
Mom's face was set in stone, her jaw clenched tight as she muttered curses about Caleb and Saskia under her breath. She gripped my hand firmly, pulling me forward with unwavering determination.
"Margaret, we can't let this slide. We're going to see the Alpha and settle this right now," she declared, her voice leaving no room for argument.
"Mom, please... do we have to?" I whispered, my voice still trembling from the pond incident. "It'll just make things worse."
The thought of facing Alpha Gregory made my stomach twist into knots. Our family held a respectable position in the Pack—my father was the Beta, and my mother the only female warrior—but in front of the Alpha's authority, we still seemed insignificant. I remembered the cold smirks on Caleb and Saskia's faces as they walked away. This wasn't over, and I knew they wouldn't back down easily.
"Not go?" Mom stopped abruptly, spinning to face me. "They threw you into a pond, Margaret. They could have drowned you, and you think we should just let it go?"
Her eyes flashed dangerously as she cupped my face. "You are my daughter, and I will not let anyone treat you like this! Now come on."
As we approached the Alpha's residence, I felt my courage drain away. The massive timber lodge loomed before us, its wolf-head totem poles standing sentinel at the entrance. In the fading evening light, the carved faces seemed more menacing than ever, their wooden eyes following our approach. The tall pines surrounding the building swayed in the wind, whispering warnings as if telling us to turn back.
My legs felt like lead, and I would have stopped walking entirely if not for my mother's iron grip on my hand. With each step forward, my heart sank deeper. Memories of the pond replayed in my mind—the icy water, the mocking laughter, my mother's furious intervention. I worried that her protection would only cost our family more in the end.
When we entered the great hall, the air felt thick with tension. Alpha Gregory sat in his carved chair, his cold gaze sweeping over us with barely concealed impatience. His wife stood beside him, her face a mask of disdain as she looked down her nose at us. To their right stood Caleb and Saskia, exchanging meaningful glances, the corners of their mouths turned up in subtle smiles.
"Ophelia," Alpha Gregory's deep voice echoed in the hall, carrying an undercurrent of authority that made my skin prickle. "What brings you here?"
I shrank behind my mother, trying to make myself invisible as my heart hammered against my ribs. Mom, however, stood tall, her spine straight as steel.
"Alpha Gregory," she said, her voice strong and unwavering, "my daughter was assaulted today by Caleb and Saskia. They threw her into the pond and mocked her for being wolf-less. If I hadn't arrived when I did, who knows what else they might have done! I demand justice."
I peeked around my mother to see Caleb and Saskia's reactions. There wasn't a trace of remorse on their faces—only smug satisfaction.
Alpha Gregory waved his hand dismissively. "Just youthful pranks, Ophelia. You're making too much of this."
"Pranks?" I thought, clenching my fists until my nails dug into my palms. Being thrown into a pond and nearly drowning was a prank?
"Pranks?" My mother echoed my thoughts aloud, her voice rising. "Throwing someone into a pond is a prank? What if she couldn't swim? What if she'd been hurt? You can't excuse their behavior just because they're your children!"
Alpha Gregory's expression darkened. He rose from his seat, his imposing presence filling the room as he approached us.
"Ophelia, I understand your maternal concerns," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "But you must understand that Margaret's situation is... unusual."
He paused, his gaze shifting to me. "Margaret must undergo the Awakening Ritual. If she cannot manifest her wolf, she must leave the Pack. We have no place for the wolf-less."
The words "Awakening Ritual" and "leave" hit me like physical blows. I felt my world collapsing around me. Everyone knew what the Awakening Ritual entailed—a torture designed to force the wolf to emerge or break the person trying.
The ritual was brutal beyond imagination. They would strap the subject to an iron bed covered with electrodes—restraining arms, legs, torso, and head. The electrodes delivered unpredictable electric currents of varying intensities, causing burning pain and paralysis. Blinding LED light arrays flashed with disorienting patterns. High-decibel noise mixed with recordings of the subject's greatest fears assaulted the ears. Stimulating scents were forced through nasal injectors, while mixed liquids were poured down the throat through forced feeding tubes.
This torture continued for hours, sometimes days, with intermittent stimulation to keep the subject alternating between hope and despair. Most couldn't endure it—many broke mentally, left with permanent psychological damage.
"No!" I blurted out, my voice cracking. "I won't do any ritual!" Tears spilled down my cheeks as I trembled at the thought of facing such horror. I'd rather endure the bullying than face that unknown terror.
My father stepped forward, standing beside my mother. "Alpha Gregory, Margaret is just a child. She has done nothing wrong," he said, his voice steady despite the tension. "Our Pack's tradition has always been to protect every member, not cast them out."
Alpha Gregory's cold gaze shifted to my father. "Beta, I respect your loyalty, but rules are rules." His tone hardened. "Those without wolves cannot contribute to the Pack. They become burdens."
My mother's posture shifted, her body coiling like a spring ready to snap. "My daughter will not undergo your damned Awakening Ritual! That's a death sentence!"
She took a step forward, challenging the Alpha directly—a dangerous move. "If you insist on banishing her, then I leave too! Our entire family will go. We won't stay where we're treated with such disrespect!"
A deathly silence fell over the great hall. Alpha Gregory's eyes narrowed dangerously, and his wife let out a cold snort, whispering something to Caleb and Saskia that made them smile triumphantly.
After what felt like an eternity, Alpha Gregory spoke. "Ophelia, I'll give you three days to reconsider. If Margaret doesn't undergo the Awakening Ritual, your family must leave the Pack. That is my final decision."
The three days passed in a blur of anxiety. Each minute felt like walking on a knife's edge, the stress nearly suffocating me. A heavy silence hung over our home, my parents barely speaking except to whisper plans to each other when they thought I couldn't hear.
I spent most of my time curled up in the corner of my bed, replaying Alpha Gregory's cold words and the horrifying stories of the Awakening Ritual. These images haunted me like nightmares, keeping me awake at night. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could hear Caleb and Saskia's mocking laughter cutting into my heart like knives.
"Margaret, come down and eat something," my mother called, her voice tired and strained.
I wiped my tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose myself before heading downstairs.
The kitchen table held a simple meal—slices of bread and a bowl of steaming soup. Dad sat at the table, his brow furrowed as he studied an old map. Mom stood nearby, watching me with complicated emotions in her eyes.
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the whisper of wind through the trees outside our window.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. "The Alpha's decision... we can't change it," he said, his voice heavy with defeat.
"The Awakening Ritual is too dangerous," he continued. "Your mother and I agree we can't let you take that risk."
He folded the map carefully. "We've decided to leave the Pack."
"Leave?" I gasped, nearly dropping my spoon. Though I'd suspected this might be coming, hearing it said aloud made my head spin.
"Dad, Mom... do we really have to go? If we leave, where will we go? Will we... will we even survive?" I asked, imagining us wandering in the wilderness, hunted by rival packs or freezing in the winter.
My mother knelt beside me, taking my hands in hers. "Margaret, I know this is hard, but we have no choice," she said, her voice gentle but firm.
"The Awakening Ritual isn't an opportunity—it's a death sentence. I'd rather we wander as outcasts than subject you to that danger."
She squeezed my hands. "As long as we're together, we'll survive wherever we go."
Dad nodded, joining us. "I've contacted an old friend. Alpha Charles of the Sunrise Peak Pack might take us in. They have territory in the northern mountains. It's a long journey, but at least it could give us a place to land."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Leaving the Pack is dangerous, but staying here would only bring you more harm."
"I'm sorry," I whispered, guilt washing over me. "It's all because of me... if I had a wolf, you wouldn't have to—"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Mom interrupted, her eyes flashing. "This isn't your fault, Margaret."
She cupped my face. "You're our daughter, and we love you, wolf or no wolf. These rules, these prejudices—they're not something you can control. We're leaving to protect you, not because you're a burden to anyone."
She pulled me into a tight embrace, and I broke down, sobbing against her shoulder, releasing all the fear and hurt I'd been holding inside.
That night, we packed our belongings in silence. I watched our small cabin, tears streaming down my face as I said goodbye to my past. Though my parents tried to remain composed, I could see their pain and reluctance in every movement, each gesture filled with finality.
Dad packed essential tools and weapons while Mom sorted food and clothing, their actions speaking of their resolve.
Before dawn, we loaded our SUV and slipped away. The night was deep, moonlight spilling across the mountain roads, the air carrying a chill that matched the coldness in my heart.
I looked back at our home one last time. It was where I was born and raised, but now it felt like a stranger's house, stripped of all sense of belonging.
"Don't be afraid, Margaret," Dad said, reaching back to squeeze my hand. "Whatever lies ahead, we face it together. We'll find a new home."
His eyes held encouragement, but I heard the uncertainty in his voice.
A new home? Would we really find one? Or were we destined to wander the wilderness until the end of our days?