Three

The next day is dull.

Clouds hang over the pack, and everyone looks at the sky fearfully.

Avery can't bring herself to get out of bed.

It's like this every time it's cloudy.

The day she turned twenty-three, there was a historic storm.

That storm marked the occasion and realisation that Avery Wilcott was mateless.

York and her parents checked in on her, but they all know - it's best to leave her alone when she's like this.

The sadness sat in her chest, and she felt defeated.

This is what the problem was with being Unfortunate. A mate bond helped to prevent negative overwhelming emotions. Without one, you were entirely left to your own devices.

She sat up, bored of staring at the ceiling, that emptiness still there.

It was always there, she supposed, but being surrounded by people helped.

She scrambled through her bedside table drawers, searching for the medicines she was given for these moods.

She dry swallows two tablets, wincing as they ease their way down.

The day passes exactly like that, with Avery sitting in silence and staring at the surrounding four walls.

Eventually, a knock startles her out of her trance-like state.

"Come in," she calls, her voice cracking from lack of use.

A small, purple-haired lady pops her head in, a pitying look on her face as she pops into the bed beside her niece.

"Hello poppet," she beams, wrapping her arms around the girl and squeezing her, "I hear you're down in the dumps today."

Avery nods, having little energy to argue.

"We're going to go see the kids - they have so much energy that some of it has to rub off on you, dear," she whispers, gently easing her niece out of bed, just like she does every time.

"Does it ever get better?" Avery asks faintly, staring at herself in the mirror.

Faye avoids her eyes, pulling a sunflower print dress out of the wardrobe and throwing it at her niece.

"No, but you learn to live with it," she says quietly, fishing out a pair of black boots from a drawer and putting them beside the bed.

The walk to the pack orphanage is quiet, with Faye leading Avery along.

Avery stares vacantly ahead of her, entirely unaware that she is the subject of conversation for some of those watching

"This can't keep happening," York says grimly, looking at his father as they both watch from the windows of the mansion.

"I know. But she's doomed to be like this. She doesn't have a mate, and she won't ever have a mate," he sighs, "she told me last week that she's as useless as a human. All she can do is shift, and she's doing that less now."

York rubs his attempt at a beard and shrugs.

"We could always try to set her up with someone?" He suggests, and Richard shakes his head, shooting his son an irritated look.

"Everyone else has a mate, and if they don't, they don't want an Unfortunate," he whispers, his chest tightening with pity for his eldest child.

"Why don't you find an Unfortunate for her then, instead of gossiping every day like little girls?" Marie snaps, appearing in the office with a mug of coffee in hand.

The two men jump at her sudden appearance, both so focused on the conversation that they didn't even hear her enter.

They both stutter a bit, making excuses and gradually becoming redder in the face.

"They're all low rank," York finally manages to get out, still a little startled by his mother's appearance.

Marie raises a brow, shaking her head.

"I have it on good authority from Alpha Logan's mother that there is another Alpha who is an Unfortunate," she shrugs, before walking back out of the room.

"Who?" York shrieks, chasing after his mum, with Richard close on his heels.

"I don't know. You should have to do some of the work yourself, I can't do it all," she retorts, slamming the kitchen door in the men's faces.

The boys reel back, shocked by Marie's abrupt departure.

As soon as Avery and Faye walk into the orphanage, they're surrounded by little children, the next happier than the last.

"Avery! Avery!" One particularly small child squeaks out, bouncing on her feet with a big smile on her face.

"Hello, Martha," Avery smiles, leaning down and petting the child on her shoulder, before two others grab her hands and pull her into the dining area.

"Avery! We did our exams, and we studied like you said! What's our prize!?" One cheers, another echoing him with, "Yeah! You said we could have a prize if we did well!"

Avery grins, turning around to the boys, and crouching down beside them.

"The prize? It's your turn to be the chasers in catch!" She whispers, before taking off in a sprint, the boys shrieking as they run after her.

Faye hears the heavy footsteps of her niece and the kids, and screams, "No running in the house."

Everybody goes silent, and the guilty parties call back, "Sorry, Aunt Faye!"

There is a palpable sense of happiness and excitement in the air, the kids absolutely delighted to have somebody else in the house.

The longer she stays here, in this happy little bubble, the more Avery feels better. The sadness is still there, but she has a distraction.

As she gets tagged, she turns around and fast-walks after the child that caught her. Little Mark giggles, and tries to run, but tumbles. Half way through his tumble, he shifts into his wolf pup, looking thoroughly baffled at what happened.

Avery bursts out laughing, walking over to pick up him.

She strolls down the stairs, cradling the little pup, and walking into the garden, past Faye.

Faye catches her eye, and glares at the two of them, shaking her head good-naturedly.

"No shifting in the house," she calls after them, throwing a pair of shorts out the door for Mark.

Avery rests Mark on the ground, and he squeaks in distress.

She puts her hand on his head, rubbing between his ears with a smile.

"Just visualise yourself in your human form," she whispers, soothing him, and then taking a step back.

A second later, she hears bones cracking, and a rustling of clothes.

"I hate when that happens," he mumbles, hiding his face, which is coloured a brilliant bright red.

Avery sighs, pulling him into a hug. He was an early shifter - a very early shifter. Normally, pups shifted at around twelve. He had shifted just before his seventh birthday, and since nobody knew who his parents were - he had been left at the border shortly after he was born - it couldn't be determined if it was genetic or a fluke.

"You'll be able to control it soon, you're only seven!" Avery cheers, rubbing his back as she leads him back inside, keeping an eye on the boy - he looks a little upset still, and that worries her.

Shooing all the children into the play area, Faye walks to the stove, stirring something in a large pot.

"What's going on in that big head of yours?" She asks with a smile, glancing at Avery.

"Poor Mark - I've heard one or two of the others tease him about his random shifts, but he really can't control it. I was wondering if I could train him," she ponders hesitantly, running a hand through her hair.

Faye stays silent for a minute, turning to face her niece with a slight frown.

"That could be good for him, but you might have to take one or two of the others who have shifted too," she responds, looking at her niece out of the corner of her eye.

"Why?" Avery asks, standing up from her seat curiously.

Faye hesitates, biting her lips and turning back to the stove, feeling tears stinging her eyes.

"Why?" Avery repeats, walking closer to her aunt.

"Because people aren't sure you have complete control of your wolf, since she has no mate," Faye says quietly, avoiding eye contact with her niece, who immediately looks downcast.

"Oh," Avery mumbles, walking back to her seat.

"I'm gonna head home," she announces, clearing her throat, to which Faye whips around.

"Will you not stay for dinner?" Faye asks, looking at her niece with concern in her eyes.

"My wolf might attack people, you know, since she doesn't have a mate," Avery snaps, and then claps a hand over her mouth, furrowing her brows.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry, she didn't like hearing that," Avery blurts out, walking quickly out the door and into the cool, dusky evening.