Chapter 8
1155 Words
The Month Comes to an End
I was never going to fit in. I can honestly say I gave it more than a fair shot. I took my time to watch the pack. I didn’t make any snap judgments. Well, okay, maybe I made a few. But in my defense, I was so out of my comfort zone that it was too easy to see problems at every turn.
The depression was worse than anything I had ever experienced. It felt like I would wither and die if I stayed in this environment.
The collar.
The leash.
No “please” or “thank you,” just orders and obedience.
Every day I watched people treated as lesser just because they were born with an omega wolf. Women had it even worse, constantly downtrodden and never allowed to express an opinion. Men decided our every move: when we woke up, when and how much we ate, where we were allowed to go, what hobbies we could have—or couldn't have. They even dictated what we wore, how long our hair had to be, whether we could own anything, and even how we styled ourselves. It was suffocating.
It's exhausting being considered insignificant simply because I was born female. According to The Origins, we women are weak and need protecting. Even if that’s true to some extent, I refuse to believe this kind of oppression is what was intended.
Still, some aspects of pack life held a glimmer of beauty, moments that could flourish if only they were nurtured. The potential for strong friendships and family bonds was phenomenal, but all of that was buried beneath the cold, stiff traditions of wolves too entrenched in their ways to show any empathy.
My lovely group of Loyal Ladies had been my secret rock. They scared me sometimes with how much they braved on my behalf. The initial conversation with the sewing bee had only been the start. Since then, they had become a web of silent support, feeding me information and lifting my spirits.
They knew everything about everybody.
Who was secretly dating whom.
What hobbies people pursued in secret.
Which men loathed Grandfather's rule and which thrived under it.
Which women despised Grandmother—there were plenty of them.
They even knew about the secret meetings the Lowers held to gossip and trade contraband, like sweets and magazines from town.
They knew where the house keys were kept, the conditions of the prisons, and even how many prisoners were currently held—fifteen, at last count. All this knowledge came easily because no one thought to guard their words around them. The Loyals were considered too insignificant to be a threat. Yet, with what they knew, they could bring this pack to its knees.
They supported me in ways that kept me sane. Secret notes tucked under my pillow encouraged me on the hardest days. Those little words of solidarity gave me strength.
Somehow, our names had never ended up in the Sin box, and I hoped it stayed that way.
Working in the infirmary, I quickly realized my healing abilities surpassed anyone else’s. My skills were sharper, more effective, and I owed it all to Silver. I spoke about my wolf constantly, but nobody else ever did. Their wolves seemed to be extensions of their human selves, whereas Silver was her own powerful force. When I shifted, I often let her take over. She was stronger, faster, and freer.
After two long weeks of yearning, I finally approached Grandfather to request a run. I had to get out.
I took a deep breath, steadied my nerves, and knocked on his office door.
“Enter,” he commanded.
I walked in, my heart pounding as I approached his desk. His gaze was stern, assessing, waiting for me to speak first. He still looked like he was in his mid-twenties, not showing any signs of aging. I wondered if he’d stay Alpha until I had a mate or a son. Would they even allow me that freedom?
He broke the silence. “I take it you have something important to say?”
I nodded, feeling the weight of his judgment.
“Very well. You may speak, but if I find this unimportant, you will be punished.”
The fear gnawed at me. I was already bending under their oppressive ways. The girl I used to be—brave, inspired by fierce heroines—was now shrunken and weak.
“Do you still wish to speak?” His voice was a whip of authority.
Silver was pacing inside me, desperate to be free. I couldn’t keep her caged any longer. “I need to shift,” I managed, my voice rough with disuse.
Grandfather’s eyebrows shot up. “How long has it been?”
A lump formed in my throat. “A month,” I whispered. The last time I had shifted was the day my mother died.
He looked genuinely surprised. “Very well. You will shift today. I’ll take you into the forest at six. We’ll hunt for our dinner. You won’t be punished for these words, but no more speaking from now. Clear?”
I nodded, feeling Silver yipping with excitement. I reminded her we’d have to follow Alpha’s lead, but she didn’t care. She was already dancing with joy. I wanted to thank Grandfather, but I wasn’t allowed more words. Instead, I stepped forward and gave him a grateful smile. His shocked expression was almost worth it.
“Yes, well,” he muttered. “Wolves need to get out. I know that.”
I spent the rest of the day bouncing with anticipation. When evening came, our run felt like pure magic. The forest was lush and green, full of scents that tantalized our senses. Silver and I couldn’t get enough. We even discovered night jasmine, though poor Silver couldn’t stop sneezing when we got too close. I swore I heard Grandfather’s wolf snort in amusement.
Grandfather’s dark grey wolf was all power and precision. He took down a buck with skill, while Silver and I watched. We weren’t ready to hunt, but we ate alongside him, gorging on the fresh, raw meat. In wolf form, I reveled in the feast, without the human revulsion I’d have felt otherwise.
By the time we emerged from the forest, I was exhausted but blissfully content. We dragged the remains to cold storage, muscles aching yet happy.
The cabins by the forest were simple but smart. I was grateful for the privacy as I shifted back. I couldn’t afford to get caught wearing the red underwear I’d made. It was a rebellious thrill. The Loyals had even helped me sew them, our little secret. Seven pairs, worn daily, washed and hidden by me.
And as small as it was, that act of defiance gave me hope. One day, maybe, I would have the freedom I craved.
- Writer
