EMBER POV
The front door slams so hard the whole house shakes.
I freeze in the kitchen, my hand still holding the dish towel. My heart starts beating fast—that sick, scary kind of fast that makes your stomach hurt.
He's home early.
"EMBER!" Dad's voice booms through the house like thunder. I can hear him stumbling, knocking into furniture. The heavy smell of alcohol drifts into the kitchen, making my nose wrinkle. He's been drinking again. He's always drinking, but tonight smells worse than usual.
I look at the back door. Maybe I can run. Maybe I can—
"Get in here, you worthless little mistake!"
My feet move before my brain tells them to. Nineteen years of training. When Alpha Gordon Ashford calls, you come. Even if he's your father. Even if you know what's coming.
He's in the living room, swaying on his feet. His eyes are red and mean. There's vomit on his shirt. Three other pack members are with him—his drinking buddies who think hurting people is funny.
"Look at her," Dad sneers, pointing at me with a bottle. "Nineteen years old and still no wolf. Do you know what the other Alphas said about me today, girl? Do you?"
I keep my eyes down. Never look him in the eye when he's like this. "No, sir."
"They laughed!" He throws the bottle. It smashes against the wall next to my head. Glass cuts my cheek. "They said Gordon Ashford's daughter is defective. Broken. That I must have weak blood to produce something like YOU!"
"I'm sorry—"
His fist catches me across the face before I finish. Pain explodes through my jaw. I taste blood.
"Sorry?" He grabs my hair, yanks my head back. "Sorry doesn't give you a wolf! Sorry doesn't erase the shame you bring to this pack every single day you breathe!"
He hits me again. And again. My ribs. My stomach. I curl into a ball on the floor, trying to protect my head. This is bad. Worse than usual. The other men are laughing, cheering him on.
"Maybe we should test if she bleeds like a real wolf," one of them suggests.
"Nah, Gordon. You'll kill her. Then you'll have to explain to the Pack Council why you murdered your own kid."
Dad spits on me. "She's not my kid. She's a mistake that should've died with her real father."
Wait. What?
Through the pain, those words hit different. Real father?
But Dad kicks me hard in the ribs and all thoughts disappear. There's just pain. So much pain.
"Get out of my sight," he finally growls. "You make me sick."
I crawl. Actually crawl on my hands and knees to my tiny room under the stairs. It's not really a room—more like a closet with a mattress. But it's mine. It has a lock on the inside that I installed myself.
I lock it. Slide down against the door. Everything hurts.
This is my life. Has been for nineteen years. My mom died when I was born, and Dad's hated me ever since. Blamed me for taking her away. When I turned thirteen and didn't get my wolf like other kids, the hate got worse. Way worse.
The pack whispers that I'm cursed. Broken. Some think my mom did something bad and the Moon Goddess punished us by making me wolfless.
I don't care what they think anymore. I just want to survive.
Through the thin walls, I hear Dad and his friends leave. More drinking, they say. More celebrating something. The door slams again.
Silence.
I finally let myself cry. Not because of the pain—I'm used to that. But because of what he said. "Real father." What did that mean? Has my whole life been a lie on top of a nightmare?
My phone buzzes. I pull it from my pocket with shaking, bloody hands. It's Mom's old phone that Dad doesn't know I have.
A text from an unknown number: "Ember Ashford. Your grandmother wants to meet you. She says it's time you knew the truth about what you really are. There's a bus ticket waiting at the station under your name. Tomorrow, 6 AM. Come alone. Your life depends on it."
What? Grandmother? I don't have a grandmother. Mom was an orphan. Dad always said so.
My heart races for a different reason now. This could be a trap. Could be someone trying to hurt me worse than Dad does.
But... what if it's real?
What if there's a way out?
What if I'm not actually broken?
I hear tires screech outside. Loud. Then a horrible crashing sound that makes the house shake. Metal crunching. Glass breaking. Someone screams.
I unlock my door, limp to the window.
Dad's truck is wrapped around the big oak tree in our front yard. Completely destroyed. Smoke rises from the hood. The front is crunched like a tin can.
Pack members run toward it, shouting.
I should feel scared. Worried. He's my dad, even if he's a monster.
But all I feel is... nothing.
Cold, empty nothing.
Maybe relief?
They pull Dad from the truck. Even from here, I can see his neck is bent wrong. Not moving. Not breathing.
Alpha Gordon Ashford is dead.
My phone buzzes again. Same unknown number: "The Moon Goddess works in mysterious ways. The bus leaves in seven hours. Don't miss it, little wolf."
Little wolf.
But I don't have a wolf.
Do I?
My chest suddenly feels warm. Hot. Like something inside me is waking up after a very long sleep. Something that purrs and growls at the same time.
Outside, someone howls. The pack mourns their Alpha.
Inside, I pack my one bag of belongings with steady hands.
Tomorrow, everything changes.
I can feel it.