Maya Pov

"My family doesn't care."

"How can they not care?"

"Because I don't matter to them!" The words burst out before I can stop them. "My mom died having me. My dad blames me. My brother pretends I don't exist. The pack thinks I'm weak. And Brittany uses all of that to make sure everyone knows I'm worthless."

Jade's quiet for a long moment. Then: "You're not worthless."

"You don't know me."

"I know enough. I know you took me down in under ten seconds this morning. I know you move like someone who's been training for years. I know you're smart—you finished that pop quiz before anyone else. And I know you're strong enough to take everything Brittany throws at you and still show up the next day."

"That's not strength. That's just survival."

"Sometimes they're the same thing."

We reach the fork in the path. Left goes to the training grounds and pack housing. Right goes deeper into the woods, toward the small cabin where I live with Dad and Lucas.

"I'm this way," I say, pointing right.

"Okay." Jade hitches her bag higher on her shoulder. "Same time tomorrow morning? Five o'clock training?"

"I'll be there at four."

"Then I'll be there at four." She grins. "See you tomorrow, Maya."

She heads left before I can argue.

I watch her go, feeling something strange in my chest. Something I haven't felt in years.

Hope, maybe. Or fear that this small taste of friendship will make everything worse when it's taken away.

She's different, Nina says in my mind.

Everyone's different at first. Then they figure out that knowing me comes with consequences.

Or maybe she'll be the one who stays.

Nobody stays.

But as I walk toward home, I can't help wondering if maybe, just maybe, Nina might be right.

—---------

The house is empty when I get home. Dad's still on border patrol. Lucas is probably with the twins and Sam, doing whatever future ranked wolves do after school.

I drop my bag by the door and head straight for my room. It's small—just a bed, a desk, and a dresser—but it's mine. The only space in this house where I can breathe.

I pull out my homework and try to focus. Chemistry problems. History reading. An English essay due Friday.

But my mind keeps drifting back to Jade. To the way she stood up to Brittany like it was nothing. To the way she looked at my scars like they mattered.

My phone buzzes.

Unknown number: Your friend is going to regret what she did today. And so are you.

I delete it. Block the number. Another one will just pop up tomorrow. Brittany has a whole system—different phones, different apps, different ways to make sure her threats reach me without being traced back to her.

The front door slams. Heavy footsteps in the hallway.

Lucas.

I hear him go into the kitchen, opening the fridge. The sound of a beer can popping. He's seventeen, but Dad doesn't care. "Wolves mature faster," he always says. "Beer won't hurt him."

The footsteps get closer. Stop outside my door.

A knock.

I freeze. Lucas never knocks on my door. Never talks to me unless he has to.

"Yeah?" I call out.

The door opens. Lucas stands there, all six-foot-two of him, looking uncomfortable. His blonde hair is messy from training. His blue eyes—the same shade as Dad's, as mine—won't meet mine.

"Dad wants to talk to you when he gets home," he says.

My stomach drops. "About what?"

"About the new girl. And about you embarrassing the family."

"I didn't do anything."

"You were seen with her. Multiple times today. People are talking."

"Since when do you care what people say about me?"

Lucas's jaw tightens. "I don't. But Dad does. Just... be ready for it, okay?"

He leaves before I can respond, closing the door behind him.

I stare at the closed door, my hands shaking.

We should leave, Nina says. Right now. Before he gets home.

Where would we go?

Anywhere. The woods. Another pack. The capital. Anywhere but here.

We can't. Not yet. Two more years. Then we're gone.

Two more years might be too long.

She's not wrong. But running now means giving up on the warrior program. Means proving everyone right that I'm weak, that I can't handle pressure.

I won't give them that satisfaction.

I force myself to focus on homework. If Dad's going to yell at me, at least I'll have my work done. One less thing to punish me for.

An hour later, I hear the front door again. Dad's voice, deep and tired. Lucas responding. Their footsteps heading toward Dad's office.

Then: "Maya! Get down here!"

I close my textbook and head downstairs, my heart pounding.

Dad's office is at the end of the hall. The door is open. He's sitting behind his desk, still in his patrol uniform. Lucas stands beside him, arms crossed.

"Sit," Dad orders, pointing at the chair across from his desk.

I sit.

Dad looks older than his forty-five years. Gray is taking over his blonde hair. Lines crease his face. He's been Beta for twenty years, and it shows.

"I heard about your day," he says.

"Okay."

"Don't 'okay' me. What were you thinking, associating with the Martinez girl?"

"She's new. She needed help finding her classes."

"And you decided to play tour guide? To sit with her at lunch? To make a spectacle of yourself in training?"

"I didn't make a spectacle. We were just paired together."

"You made Brittany Cole look bad. Do you understand what that means?"

"It means Brittany needs more practice."

Dad's fist slams on the desk. I flinch.

"This is not a joke! Brittany's father sits on the pack council. He has the Alpha's ear. And now his daughter is calling our family into question because my daughter can't stay in her place!"

"My place?" The words taste bitter. "What place is that exactly?"

"Out of sight. Out of trouble. Quiet." He leans forward. "You are a representation of this family. Of my position as Beta. Every time you draw attention to yourself, you make me look weak. Like I can't control my own household."

"Maybe you can't."

The slap comes fast. My head snaps to the side, cheek burning.

Lucas doesn't move. Doesn't say anything.

"You will stay away from the Martinez girl," Dad says, his voice deadly quiet. "You will apologize to Brittany. And you will remember your place in this pack. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." I stand up, not waiting to be dismissed.

"We're not done."

"Yes, we are."