Morning light poured through the thin curtains, cutting across the small attic room like golden blades. Dust hung in the air, catching in the sunbeams. The girl lying beneath the threadbare quilt stirred, blinking awake. Her name was Asena Hale—seventeen years old, blonde hair tangled like spun sunlight, and eyes the sharp green of fresh spring leaves.
She wasn't like the others in town.
Her reflection in the cracked mirror beside her bed was delicate, almost fragile—small frame, narrow shoulders, a soft face that made people underestimate her. But there was something in her gaze, something ancient and wild. If anyone looked too long, they might feel it stir—the beast beneath the surface, coiled and waiting.
The attic door creaked open.
"Up, girl!" her aunt's shrill voice cut through the stillness. "The dishes aren't going to wash themselves."
Asena sat up quickly. "Yes, Aunt Mara."
Her aunt's sharp eyes flicked around the room. "And mind your tone. I won't have that wolf attitude of yours here."
Asena lowered her gaze and nodded, biting her tongue. She'd learned long ago that obedience was safer than defiance. Her uncle's footsteps thundered below, heavy and impatient. The scent of burnt coffee and frustration already filled the air.
Still, she smiled to herself as she got dressed. Every morning, she made herself smile. Optimism had become her shield—the one thing her aunt and uncle couldn't take from her.
Downstairs, the kitchen was dim. The house always smelled faintly of rust and damp wood. Her uncle sat at the table, a thick-shouldered man with a permanent scowl. He didn't look at her when he spoke.
"Town patrol's been sniffing around again," he muttered. "Alphas from the southern border. Heard there's been fights over territory."
Her aunt clicked her tongue. "As if we don't have enough problems. Those beasts are always fighting."
Asena's hands froze around the dish she was scrubbing. Those beasts. They spoke of werewolves like they weren't part of them—as if the blood that ran through their veins wasn't the same cursed mix.
Everyone in the world had the blood of wolves. The only difference was how strong it was. Alphas ruled territories with power and dominance, Betas enforced their will, Gammas led the packs, and Deltas—the lowest ranking—served. That's what Asena had been born in to. A heart and mind as fierce as a hurricane, but the demeanour of a well trained Delta.
Asena was brought up in the world by her aunt and uncle. When she was first born, Her parents were brutally killed during a territorial war. She never knew her parents, never seen pictures of them, only occasional stories about the supposed monsters they were. Controlled by anger and hatred.
But deep inside, she knew that wasn't true.