TEN

LYRA

A week has passed in a blur, yet I still haven’t managed to make a single friend in the infirmary. No one talks to me, no one teaches me, and no matter how hard I try, I remain invisible. I am determined to fit in so much. The first day had me trying to make friends, asking questions, starting small talk, and being polite to everyone around me, but none of it was reciprocated. By the second day, I tried harder, refusing to be ignored. I ran small errands even when no one asked me to, hoping someone would at least acknowledge my presence, yet the cold indifference continued.

By the third day, I was beyond frustrated and demanded to know why no one was asking for my help or teaching me, even though Alpha Kael had ordered it. The only response I get is that a weak human has no business learning how to treat strong werewolves. By the fifth day, I was exhausted beyond words from being left out, but I stubbornly reported to the infirmary every morning. I refused to break, refused to feed into their expectations of me. If they were waiting for me to give up and leave, they would be disappointed.

I saw less and less of Alpha Kael as the days passed. He was busy handling matters of the court, consumed by duties far more important than my struggles. Beta Aiden was also occupied, though he was the only other person who treated me with kindness. Most nights, I wasn't sure if Alpha Kael ever stepped into my room when I was asleep or if I only dreamed it. But when I wake up in the morning, he is gone from his chambers, and I'm left to face the cold hostility of his pack members.

The few times we saw each other in the mornings, he would ask how I was being treated at the infirmary. And every time, I gave him the same answer. "Everything is fine." Because I didn't want him fighting my battles for me. I was determined to break through the icy walls of his pack on my own. I didn't know what humans had done to them in the past to make them despise me so much, but I was going to find out.

I sit alone in the reception parlor, watching as the other girls chatter and move around me as if I don’t exist. I have stopped trying. I no longer attempt to pry, no longer glare at them, or force small talk. Instead, I sit and wait for the hours to pass, staring into nothingness. Then, suddenly, I feel a small tug at my sleeve. I look beside me to see a little girl. She can’t be older than twelve, and her wide eyes brim with innocence.

"Hey," she says softly. "I always see you sitting by yourself. Are you okay?"

Her voice is light and unstained by the coldness I’ve become accustomed to. I glance around. I don’t recognize her; she must be one of the young werewolves receiving treatment at the infirmary. A real smile tugs at my lips as she sits beside me.

"Of course," I say, keeping my tone cheerful. "I’m new here and just trying to learn the ways of the pack."

She nods, tilting her head. "So, you’re human and want to fit into a werewolf tribe?" Her voice carries no malice, only curiosity. "Do you want to change the fact that you’re human?"

I chuckle softly. The question doesn’t offend me. If anything, I’m beyond grateful that someone is willing to speak to me, regardless of her age.

"No," I answer honestly. "I don’t wish to change who I am. I only want to blend in and learn as much as I can."

She hums thoughtfully, swinging her legs a little. "I heard you came from another werewolf tribe in the north. Didn’t they teach you werewolf ways?"

I hesitate for a second before replying. "I was only a slave there. Alpha Kael gave me my freedom on our way here."

At that, her eyes glint with something unreadable; curiosity or perhaps admiration.

"My name is Gwen," she says brightly.

"And I’m Lyra," I reply, smiling at her.

"Lyra, can you do me a favor?"

I nod. "Yes, of course. What do you need?"

"I want you to play a game with me since you’re not doing anything now," Gwen says.

I'm more than glad now because I'm just about to make my first friend. Maybe this is it, maybe she is my way in. If others see me with her, they might realize I’m not some kind of plague. Gwen stands, and I eagerly follow her out to the backyard where a few of the other healers are loitering. The air is thick with the scent of herbs and dried leaves, but beneath it, I sense something else. Something tense, something off.

Olivia sits perched on a stool, surrounded by a small circle of girls. One of them fans her as she basks in the attention, her lips curved in a self-satisfied smirk. It’s clear the other girls worship her. And why wouldn’t they? She is the only woman Alpha Kael allows in his chambers, the only female he speaks to casually within the pack. Their bond is deep, one that stretches back to childhood. From what I’ve gathered, the entire pack believes he will make her his Luna. No wonder she feels like I’m a threat.

I don’t even realize I’ve stopped moving until I find myself standing at the center of the courtyard. A wooden platform stands ahead of me, and Gwen climbs onto it with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the same one I mistook for excitement earlier.

"Since Lyra is just a human, we should treat her like one!" she chirps sweetly.

Laughter ripples through the crowd.

I blink. What?

A sinking feeling forms in my stomach. Then, someone hands Gwen a collar and a chain. She tosses a small piece of bread onto the ground in front of me.

"Go on, Lyra! If you really want to be one of us, you have to show us your best ‘please’ face!" she says.

The she-wolves erupt into laughter. Some howl mockingly, others whisper to one another, their eyes alight with amusement. My face burns and heat crawl up my neck as humiliation coils tight in my chest. I feel like I'm back in Shadowmoon, trapped in that cycle of powerlessness. For a second, I debate picking up the bread and throwing it back at them. But I'm alone here. And if I fight back, it will only make things worse.

"Every new pup in the pack gets a ‘Welcome Gift,’" Gwen says again, holding up the collar and chain with a wicked grin.

"But you’re not a pup, are you, Lyra?" Another girl giggles. "You’re a pet."

"We should give you a collar," someone else chimes in, laughing. "Just like the ones pets wear."

My stomach twists. I know where this is going. "What is all this?" I ask, keeping my voice steady and devoid of emotions.

"Go on," Gwen urges, her eyes glinting. "You want to be part of the pack, don’t you? Put it on."

Memories crash over me like a violent flood. My days in Shadowmoon come rushing. The cold bite of metal around my neck. The way the wolves had yanked it and laughed as I struggled to breathe. The pain. The helplessness. The shame.

"You should be honored," one of the older girls sneers. "Alpha Kael already treats you like his little pet. You might as well look the part."

More laughter. More taunting. Their voices float around me, blending into the ghosts of my past. My limbs lock, and my mind spins. Suddenly, I'm not here anymore. I'm back there. In Shadowmoon. But I can still hear the voices of the ones taunting me.

"Oh?" Gwen’s eyes widen in mock surprise. "Do you think you’re too good for it?" She jumps down from the platform and moves close, so close I can smell the faint scent of vanilla in her hair. "You don’t get to pretend to be one of us," Gwen whispers. Her voice is no longer playful. "You’ll never be one of us. But if you bow down right now, we might let you stay."

"Go on," another wolf jeers. "Kneel, human."

"Beg."

My fingers curl into fists as a crack splits open inside me. It is pure, undiluted rage. "You want me to kneel?" I bark and take a slow step forward, locking eyes with Gwen. My pulse pounds in my ears, but I don’t blink. "Make me."

The courtyard falls silent.

Then, Gwen’s expression twists. "Fine," she spits.

The next thing I know, I'm shoved so hard from behind. I stumble and hit the ground hard on my hands and knees.

More laughter. More jeers.

Gwen smirks, lifting the collar in her hands and tossing it at my feet like a scrap meant for a dog. "See?" she coos. "You always end up where you belong."

"Pathetic," Olivia murmurs under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

She’s enjoying this. Every second of it. And why wouldn’t she? This was her doing. I can see it in the satisfaction curving her lips, in the way she leans back lazily as if watching a show she personally directed. The laughter continues, but I don’t hear it anymore. My body trembles, not with fear, but with something darker. Deadly. Slowly, I rise to my feet. I don’t look at them. I don’t acknowledge their taunts. I don’t run. I won’t give them that satisfaction.

I walk away, daring any of them to stop me. Give me a reason, my mind dares them. Let one of them step in my way, and I swear, one or both of us will be dead by the end of it. But none of them do. I shove open the storeroom door and slam it shut behind me. And then, only then do the tears fall.

Hot. Angry. Uncontainable.