FALLING FOR THE PACK'S OUTCAST

A Y L A The slap landed like thunder cracking my world in two, sending me sprawling across the grimy living room floor with stars exploding behind my eyes. Blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic, as I curled into a ball, sobs tearing from my chest. I'd learned to brace for my father's rages, but this one hit harder than any before. My father towered over me, his face twisted in fury, veins bulging in his neck. "Get up, you worthless curse," he growled, his boot nudging my side none too gently. “You think you get a choice, You're a curse on this family. Can't shift, can't hunt, just a burden dragging us down. The debt collectors are coming for their money, and it's you they'll take. Is that understood?” Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my split lip. I pressed a trembling hand to my throbbing cheek, the skin already swelling. "Please, father," I whispered, my voice cracking like dry leaves. "Don't do these. I'll find work, I'll... anything to help you pay off the debt." He yanked me up by my arm, fingers digging into my skin like claws. Pain flared, and I stumbled, vision spinning, but somehow, he held me steady. The room felt too small, like it was closing in around me, suffocating me. Mom sat frozen on the couch, hands twisted in her lap, staring at the rug like it held some secret she couldn’t bear to speak aloud. She’d always been like this, quiet, invisible, molded by Dad into someone who didn’t exist unless he needed her. I searched her face for mercy, for any sign she’d stop this, but she didn’t even blink. Obedience had turned her into stone years ago. Liora, my sister, perched beside her like she owned the world. Her golden hair fell perfectly around her face, her posture flawless, her whole-body radiating strength I’d never had. She was the pack’s golden girl, the wolf who could shift, the one everyone admired. And now, she was sneering at me, crossing her legs like I was nothing. “For once, Ayla,” she said, her voice smooth but dripping with venom, “can’t you just help? Play wife to some rogue debt collector, it’s not rocket science. Open your legs, use that mouth of yours right, and shut up about it. I could’ve done this. But I’m actually useful. The pack needs me, not your pathetic excuses.” Her words hit me like a knife, cutting deeper than any slap could. I glanced at Mom, pleading silently. Say something. Stop this. But she only shifted, fingers gripping her skirt, frozen in her silence. Nothing. A loud knock on the door made us all jump. It echoed like judgment, shaking the walls. Dad shoved me forward like I was nothing, straightened his shirt, trying to look important. “That’s them,” he muttered. “Don’t move.” Dad crossed the room in two strides and yanked the door open. The cold night air rushed in, carrying the sharp smell of pine and something wild, like animals on the hunt. Two men stepped inside without waiting for an invite, their boots heavy on the creaky floorboards, their bodies big and scarred, like they'd fought and won too many battles. They weren't like the pack wolves I knew, these were rogues, outcasts with eyes that burned cold and hungry, clothes rough and patched from a life on the edges. One of them, the taller one with a jagged scar across his cheek, fixed his gaze on Dad. His voice came out rough, like gravel underfoot. “Your debt is due. Where's the payment we agreed upon?” My heart slammed in my chest, so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. This was it, the end of everything I knew. Thoughts raced through my head, wild and panicked. Run. Hide. Beg. But my legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot by fear. I could feel the blood drying sticky on my lip, the ache in my cheek pulsing with every beat. Why me? I wasn't strong, wasn't pretty like Liora. I was nothing, a girl who couldn't even turn into a wolf. But here they were, come to take nothing and call it payment. Dad pointed at me, his finger shaking just a little, like even he knew this was wrong deep down. “That's her. She's the one. Take her and we're square.” No. The word exploded in my mind, hot and desperate. I couldn't let this happen. My body moved before I could think, feet scrambling toward the back door, the one that led to the woods where I'd hidden so many times as a kid. If I can just get outside, maybe I can lose them in the trees. But they were faster. The scarred one lunged, his hand clamping around my wrist like iron. I screamed, twisting hard, my free arm swinging wildly to hit him. “Let go! Please, no!” My voice cracked, raw with terror. I kicked at his legs, felt my shoe connect with his shin, but he didn't even grunt, just yanked me back against his chest, his grip bruising my skin. The other rogue grabbed my other arm, pinning it down, their bodies crowding me, smelling of sweat and smoke. “Feisty little thing,” the second one muttered, his breath hot on my neck. He pulled a rough cloth bag from his belt, the kind that looked like it had been used for hauling trash. Before I could scream again, he jammed it over my head. The world went dark, musty fabric scratching my face, blocking out the light and air. I thrashed, bucking against them, my muffled yells echoing inside the bag. “Stop! Father, help me! Mother!” My lungs burned as I fought, elbows jabbing, heels stomping, but they held tight, dragging me toward the door like I weighed nothing. Inside, my thoughts spun in chaos. This can't be real. They're taking me away, like I'm some animal to sell. Fear twisted in my gut, sharp as a knife, mixing with the hot shame of my family's betrayal. I could hear Liora's soft chuckle from the couch, like this was all a joke, and Mom's silence louder than any cry. Why didn't anyone fight for me? Was I really that worthless? Dad's voice cut through my panic, steady now, like he'd already washed his hands of me. “I hope this settles my entire debt, as promised. No more surprises.” The scarred rogue snorted, his fingers digging into my arm as he hauled me along. “If our boss is pleased, then yes. This settles it. Clean.” Pleased? The word made bile rise in my throat. What did that even mean? I sobbed into the bag, the fabric soaking with my tears, my struggles weakening as exhaustion hit. They pulled me outside, the night air cooler now, nipping at my skin through my thin shirt. Gravel crunched underfoot, and I heard the snort of horses, the creak of wood, a carriage waiting. They shoved me forward, forcing me in the carriage.