"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 framed by fruit so dark it looked like bruised skin 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 a daring, youthful triumph.
Ember stood at the base of the trunk, her 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. "I think you should get back down. I don't feel right about this."
"Relax, I got this," Willow chirped, adjusting her grip. She reached further out, her small hand straining toward a cluster of particularly heavy plums. "Just think about how juicy they'll be when we get them."
Ember watched from below, her own hands twisting together until her knuckles turned white. The air felt too still, the silence of the orchard suddenly heavy.
Just as Willow shifted her weight to reach for the prize, a sharp, sickening crack echoed through the air. The branch beneath her foot gave way.
"Willow!"
Ember jolted upright, a scream tearing from her throat and shattering the quiet of her tiny room.
Sweat drenched her skin, making her thin tank top cling to her ribs. Her heart hammered against her sternum, and her breath came in jagged, desperate 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. It had been 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.
Exhaling a long, shuddering breath, she glanced at the bedside table. The old digital clock sat there, its red display blinking with mocking precision:
11:00.
"Shit."
Ember scrambled out of bed, the 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 into a deep, dark abyss of sleep. 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 a coffin of a space, narrow bed, peeling wallpaper, a single dresser, a cracked mirror, and not much else. She scrambled into a pair of dark jeans and a black sweater, hopping on one foot as she fought her way into her sneakers. Her heel caught; she lurched forward, her shoulder slamming into the wall with a dull thud.
"Son of a bitch, " she cursed under her breath.
She grabbed a brush, dragging it through her dark, shoulder-length curls with enough force to make her scalp sting, trying to tame the sleep-frizz into something resembling order. She didn't bother with a mirror. She grabbed her keys, bolted out the door, and locked it with a frantic twist before sprinting 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.
Ember flew down the narrow, overgrown bushy path that led toward the main road. By the time her feet hit the pavement of the city street, her chest was heaving. She stood on the curb, waving frantically as a yellow public transport bus rumbled toward her. The driver slowed, his eyes meeting hers through the glass. He recognized the "her." His jaw set, and he floored the accelerator, leaving her in a choking cloud of diesel exhaust.
Rot in hell!" she screamed at the red taillights.
Another car approached, slowing to a crawl. Ember reached for the handle, but the driver flashed a sneering grin and sped off before her fingers could touch the metal.
She knew no one in the Blood Fang Pack city would give her a lift. She was the girl whose father died when she was conceived and whose mother died when she was born. To them, she was a walking funeral. Still, she had hoped that for the sacredness of the Awakening, someone might show a shred of pack unity.
"I guess I have to trek then," she whispered bitterly.
The walk to the pack house took fifty-five minutes on a good day. She had already wasted ten minutes playing Russian roulette with the local traffic. If she didn't run, she'd miss the most important day of her life.
"Can things ever go my way for once?"
She began a punishing speedwalk, her dark curls bouncing against her shoulders, already beginning to unravel from their hurried brushing.
By the time the iron gates of the Blood Fang Pack house rose in the distance, Ember's legs felt like lead. She stopped a few yards away, doubling over to catch her breath. To her relief, several cars were still turning into the long driveway, and a few late-arriving parents were walking toward the entrance with their dormant teenagers.
She let out a small, relieved smile. "I made it."
BEEP!
A deafening horn blasted inches from her spine. A sleek SUV swerved toward her, the side mirror clipping her shoulder with enough force to spin her. Ember hit the gravel hard, the stones chewing into her palms.
A blonde head popped out of the passenger window as the car slowed near the gate. "Watch it, filthy pig!" Zev cackled, his blue eyes dancing with malice.
Ember sat in the dirt, her palms stung from the gravel as she watched the car roll away. Around her, several families walked past. Not one person stopped. Not one person asked if she was okay. They looked through her as if she were part of the ground.
'I swear, Zev is the first person I'm going to attack once I awaken my wolf,' she said to herself, pushing up she brushed the dust from her jeans. 'He and that twin sister of his.'
"Are you coming in or are you going to stand there and rot?" the guard at the gate barked. He gripped the iron bars, his face twisted in a scowl. "I'm locking this in three seconds. If you're not inside before I blink, you're staying out."
"I'm sorry! I'm coming!" Ember scrambled toward the narrowing gap, slipping through just as the heavy gate groaned shut.
"Damn curse, don't know why a thing like her is even allowed to participate in such a sacred ceremony," the guard muttered, loud enough for the words to hook into her back. "Waste of the goddess blessing."
Ember kept her head down. It wasn't a secret. In the Blood Fang Pack, Ember was the girl whose closeness meant death. First her parents, then Willow.
She saw them up ahead, Zev and his twin sister, Zoe. Their parents, the Beta and his mate, were likely already inside with the Alpha.
The twins stood near the fountain, looking like they had stepped out of a catalog. Zev wore a crisp button-down that matched his sister's pale blue silk dress.
"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 perfectly curled blonde hair. "Careful, Zev. If she dies here, she'll probably haunt us all."
Ember stared straight ahead, picking up her pace to bypass them. Just ignore them. Just get to the awakening grounds.
"Are you deaf, you little bitch?" Zev's voice dropped an octave.
Before she could react, he stepped out and shoved her hard from behind. Ember went down again, her knees hitting the stone walkway with a sickening thud. She felt the skin tear through her jeans.
"How dare you ignore me?" Zev stepped over her, towering with an arrogant smirk. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Zev, stop, you're hurting her," Zoe said, her voice flat with boredom. She wasn't looking at Ember; she was looking past her.
"What do you think you're doing, Zev?"
The voice was cold, cutting through the humid night like a razor. Ember looked up. Axel, the Alpha's son, stood a few feet away. His dark hair fell over one side of his face, partially obscuring his features, but his visible eye, a piercing, icy blue, was fixed on Zev with terrifying stillness.
"Shouldn't you all be making it to the ceremonial ground?" Axel asked. It wasn't a suggestion.
Zev flinched, his bravado evaporating in the presence of the future Alpha. He muttered something under his breath, his face flushing red. Zoe didn't wait; she grabbed her brother's arm and dragged him away.
Axel didn't move until they were gone, his gaze following them like a predator watching a nuisance.
Finally, he turned to Ember. "What are you still doing down there?" he asked, his voice devoid of the twins' cruelty but lacking any warmth. "Do you need me to carry you to the ceremony?"
Ember's face burned. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sharp sting in her knees. "I'm sorry," she stammered, looking at the ground.
She turned and limped away as fast as she could, her heart racing for a different reason now. Axel was the only person in the pack she couldn't read. Sometimes he was the barrier between her and a beating; other times, he walked past her as if she were a ghost. But he never joined in. To Axel, she was just... nothing.
Her steps faltered for just a moment as something inside her stirred relentlessly.
After tonight, nobody would dare bully me, she thought, pressing a hand to her ribs as if to soothe the tremor. Or look down on me again. She smiled.