Christine's P.O.V
I saw her move. Pain exploded across my cheek. The taste of blood hit my tongue.
" Are you deaf?" Madam Cora hissed. Her voice cut through me like a blade. "Or are you just stupid?" The stone floor slammed into my knees. I steadied myself before she could hit me again.
"My apologies, Madam Cora," I whispered, my head bowed. She crouched slowly in front of me, her nails digging into my chin, forcing my face up. "Look at me when I speak to you! Look at me! You are a curse," she said softly. "The pack should have buried you with your parents." My breathing stuttered as I struggled to force back tears." Now come on, scrub. Scrub before I end you myself." Quickly, I dipped the rag, scrubbed again and again. The dirt didn't leave. It never did. Keeping my head bowed, I avoided glimpsing my surroundings. Any upward glance merely confirmed my wretched place in this world. The servants' quarters sat beneath the blood moon crescent pack house, hidden, like we were. This was our domain below, unseen, forgotten. I had endured this existence my entire life. Eighteen years old, still on my knees begging for scraps. No matter how diligently I worked, muddy boots would inevitably return. As would their entitlement, as would the power I was never granted. From above, footsteps echoed across polished floors. Laughter drifted down, carefree and bright. I've heard the announcement happened at moonrise.
A young woman's voice filtered through the vents, bubbling with excitement. Suddenly, heels slammed into my bucket, water splashed over my hands. "Focus, you stupid thing," Madam Cora snapped. My fingers clenched around the sodden rag. Moonrise, of course. If the moon goddess was choosing tonight, it wouldn't be someone like me.
Heavier footsteps followed, measured and sharp. The alpha guards. My second worst nightmare in this place. Their presence always resonated differently. Pure, undiluted evil after Madam Cora herself. Their punishments were quick and merciless. I'd either get chased by the pack dogs whenever I defiled their orders, or I'd get locked up in the dungeon. But as the moon goddess may have it, today everyone was in a good mood. Even the servants bustled restlessly.
Those who typically avoided eye contact now whispered eagerly in huddled groups, their eyes wide with misplaced hope. Not me. I bent lower and scrubbed with renewed vigor. "Hurry up, Christine," Madam Cora said, voice low and venomous. "Hurry up! Or do you enjoy kneeling? Does it make you feel closer to something you'll never be?"
My fingers curled into the rag, not in defiance, just enough to stop them from shaking. Madam Cora exuded cruelty like a second skin. "I expect perfection when the guests walk these halls," she hissed, stepping closer. "Or should I remind you what happens when you disappoint me?" I shook my head immediately. "No, madam," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper against the cold stone floor. Just as I squeezed the musky water from the rag, my fingers mistakenly splashed a tiny drop of water on her heel.
Madam Cora flinched. "How dare you?" Madam Cora growled, her wolf eyes blazing. "Pathetic." Her lip curled with disdain. "Ugh, so pathetic." Then her heel came down on my hand, hard, bone ground against stone. "Wolfless trash," she said. "Do you know how much these cost?" Her heel pressed harder. A sharp cry clawed its way up my throat. I swallowed it. I always did. "Christine, you know why the moon goddess never gave you a wolf," Madam Cora whispered harshly. "She knew how much of a mistake you already are." She kicked my face with the edge of her heels. I stumbled back, holding my already bleeding nose. And she walked away, without no care. I laid on the stone floor, the words sinking deep into my chest, as it burrowed beneath my skin like a parasite. Wolfless. The only one among hundreds of...
Thought I called my cat. Above me, celebration thundered through the floorboards. Boots stomped in rhythm to songs. I swallowed the lump in my throat and went on my knees as I lowered my gaze to the soapy water with a bloody nose and tears in my eyes. This is what I got for being the only one different in the my community. Just then, moonlight touched my skin, and the world broke. Oh no, not again.
The corridor vanished. I was six again. My mother was dragging me. Her grip hurt, but her eyes wild with something I'd never seen before. "Mother, mother," I cried. "Mother, where are we going?" "Quiet," she whispered. "Quiet, my child, or they'll hear you." Then the pack house, at once filled with warmth and safety, a sanctuary of belonging. Now it screamed, not with celebration, but with terror that echoed through every corridor.
Something slammed the gates. The walls shook. She dragged me faster, nearly wrenching my arm as we fled deeper into the pack house. "What about father? Where is father?" I sobbed, searching the shadows for his familiar silhouette. She offered no answer, her silence more frightening than any words. She threw open a door, dropped to her knees, pulled a panel aside. "Get in." "Mother," "please get in. Get... Come in, Christine," she ordered, eyes wild with fear and something else I couldn't quite name. I shook my head, clutching at her sleeve. "No, no, do not leave me alone, Mother." She grasped my face between trembling hands, tears carving paths through the grime on her skin, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "No matter what you hear, you stay hidden," she said fiercely, her voice breaking. "Do you hear me? Promise me, my little one." I nodded once. "I am scared, Mother. What's happening?" I whispered, my small body shaking uncontrollably. "I know you're scared," she murmured softly, pressing her forehead to mine in a final gesture of tenderness. "But you have to be brave for mommy. You will survive. You must survive. This is the only way," she muttered under her breath. You may not understand it now, but it is the only way. Suddenly, a roar shook the walls, inhuman and hungry. She pushed me inside the darkness and fled.
