The sun was only just beginning to peek between the trees, and I stood observing the wind blow through their leaves. My thoughts drifted, wishing that I was able to dig back into the comfort of my bed. In mornings like these, the cold clung to all things. Even with the stove roaring, the kitchen was never warm enough, especially at dawn.
"Did you catch what I just said, young lady?" The sharp voice snapped me out of my daydream.
I looked over my shoulder to find Clara, my stepmother, standing in the doorway. She wore a pink nightgown and cinched the robe tightly around her waist, as if she could keep the heat inside. Her short blonde bob was still tousled with sleep, but her green eyes flashed with resentment of betrayal every time she glanced at me. She was small next to me one of the smallest she-wolves in the pack but she was bite strong and would make herself seem bigger.
"No, sorry" I told her, glancing once more at the pancakes and bacon frying in the pan.
Clara's voice was heavy with venom. "Pay attention next time, Iris. I don't like having to remind you twice. Or do I need to remind you?"
It's always been like that ever since my first bleed. She treated me kindly in public in front of the pack, but the moment I did something wrong or couldn't meet her impossible standards, she tore me apart sometimes verbally, sometimes otherwise. My father never stepped in. He just stood there and watched as if I were not one of his flesh and blood like his other kids. But if it had been Jayden or Jason, my twin half- brothers, he'd get on his knees to defend them within minutes, even if they lied. He consistently defended them, but never me.
"I need to go to the market today" Clara said sitting at the small dining table jammed into the corner of the kitchen.
"Yes, Ma'am" I replied, coming over and setting a mug down in front of her.
"I want all of those things" She went on placing a list on the table. "I need to be the best of the best, I won't be dismissed by the other women." She gave me glance from her piercing eyes as I poured coffee into her cup.
I returned to the stove, going through the motions of focusing on the food as I felt the burn of her look on my back.
"I want you to get home early today. Dishes I'm taking along with me need to be done by tomorrow. Understand?"
I simply nodded and kept cooking. She emptied the leftover coffee, pushed back her chair, and swept out of the kitchen, leaving behind an ensuring silence.
I sighed, gazing at the book on the table. Reading will have to wait until tomorrow evening.
I had completed setting the table and slipped away into my tiny bedroom. Its walls were the same bleak, dismal blue as the living room, and it was only large enough to hold my tiny bed and wobbly worktable. Clothes lay in a neat pile in the corner of the room.
I flopped down onto the bed, exhaling. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Then my eyes landed on the clock. Shit. It's already seven.
I sprang to my feet and grabbed a change of clothes. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. Faded, bruised cheeks and eyes older than seventeen. What would I be if I were to eat real food and sleep real sleep? Would I even recognize myself?
Shoving the thought aside, I put on a sage coloured blouse inherited from one of my brothers and light brown pants. I tucked the blouse in so it wouldn't hang over me like it was swallowing me whole. My old leather boots waited by the bed, seams hanging by a thread due to stitches I'd added to keep them wearable. At least these clothes hid how thin I'd gotten.
With swift, accustomed movements, I braided my long silver hair into a braid the only thing I liked about myself, and my piercing royal blue eyes. I draped a cape of pale grey over my shoulders, stuffed the shopping list into the my basket and headed towards the entrance of the house.
I stepped outside and was met with a bite of morning wind. Wrapping my cape about myself, I tried to shut out what little warmth clung. I could smell wet earth and fresh pine, and the muted hum of the forest closed about me as I started my walk into town.
Our pack, Crystal Moon, had some pull, but in reality, we were miniscule. While the greatest packs of Arvendrails were beyond our comprehension, we had scant comprehension of their power. They possessed wolves who were killers in most literal definition of word deadly, unmatched, and to be avoided. Above them ruled the High Council, which was subservient to most of the ancient living wolves.
All packs had staked their own claim, and over time, these had become towns. Many years ago, the High Wolf Leader had tried to untie all of the wolves into one town, but that dream shattered. A hundred years later, most species now have their own lands and settlements, existing alongside each other yet separated.
The only place where all still coexist as one is the capital city, Veloria.
I'd always wanted to explore Arvendrails, to see the other species and lands beyond our borders. But in Crystal Moon Pack, only the high ranking wolves are allowed to leave, and even then, only with the Alpha's permission.
I'd overheard the ladies in town square whispering once that pack members who tried to leave were dragged back and locked in holding. No one ever saw them again.
The fear of disappearing makes everyone remain quiet. No one has the guts to go. No one even dares to think so.
The cobblestone streets extended in neat, precise lines, with stores of all sizes and colours lining each side. Houses were made of pale stone, with tiny, slender doors and windows lined with dark wood harvested from the surrounding forest. Piked up roofs shot towards the light grey sky, giving the town a barren sort of beauty. Most stores had signs featuring a silver crystal moon emblem, stretching stiffly from iron poles. The farther I went. the colder the air seemed to get.
The roads broadened slowly, coming to an end at the town centre, where a fountain sat as a quiet sentinel at it's centre. Water ran over the stone basin incised with designs, reflecting the pale light and glittering like shards of ice. The stores circled the centre, their wooden supports dark against light coloured stone walls, and the silver crystal moon banners stiffly fluttering in the cold wind.
The market was filled, Wolves walked past one another, in brief, snappy voices or no voices at all. Merchants hollered quietly, trying to sell their goods to anyone that walked by. A butcher arranged slabs of meat with precision, a weaver wound bolts of grey and silver fabric into neat stacks, and the blacksmith's hammer cracked sharply, each resounding blow ringing out across the square.
Wolf pups ran past, giggles cut off by adults coming through, and I hurried to remain on the edges of the throng, my cape pulled closer. Even within the chaos of the market, the air was thick, chill invading my body, as though the town itself was a reminders I wasn't exactly welcome here.
I stood on the edge of the square, watching a small fruit and vegetable stall squeezed between the blacksmith's forge and a grey-robed weaver. Baskets of apples, pears, plums, carrots, and potatoes spilled over the counters, their colours vivid against the pale stone and dark wood.
A pair of pack patrol members walked by boots held on the cobblestones, eyes scanning the crowd but never mine. They made me stand up straight and drop my gaze.
The vendor held down middle-aged omega-features with juice-stained fingers and piercing eyes, looking up as I came nearer and providing me with a rapid, calculated nod. I nodded back.
I took an apple, spun it in my hands, then threw a pear, a bunch of carrots, and potatoes into my basket. The vendor moved quickly, loading each one with a bag, his eyes flicking toward the fountain where the guards stood around before moving on.
"That'll be three silvers," he grunted, his voice low and steady.
I rummaged through my coins and paid him, shivering a little with cold and nerves. He gave me back my basket, a thin, almost imperceptible smile a flash of kindness in a world that was not kind.
I carefully tucked the basket under my arm and lowered my head, stepping back into the flow of the market. The hues of the vegetables and fruit in my hand appeared vividly intense a small reminder of life and option in a town that never provided me with either.