CHAPTER 2
1601 Words
Breakfast in the packhouse used to feel warm when I was younger. Full tables. Loud voices. My mother humming through the kitchen. People reaching over one another for fresh bread and honey. That was a lifetime ago. A completely different world.
Now it felt like an interrogation room with pancakes.
I came down the stairs slowly, half hoping no one would be there so I could steal food and escape. No luck. Alpha Kade sat at the head of the long dining table, reading through paperwork with the same expression he used when someone disappointed him. A warrior stood nearby. Two omegas rushed around cleaning. And directly across from my usual seat sat Beta Ronan, drinking black coffee like it personally offended him.
Perfect.
I walked in, pulled out a chair, and dropped into it with an exaggerated sigh. My father looked up just long enough to acknowledge my existence.
“You are late,” he said.
“It is breakfast, not a war meeting,” I replied. “Is there a late penalty?”
“Ayla,” he warned.
I stabbed a piece of pancake. “I missed you too.”
He ignored the comment entirely. Of course he did. I chewed angrily and tried not to look at Ronan, who sat across from me. He had the same posture as always. Straight back. Shoulders set. Eyes lowered. That silent, expressionless Beta calm he had perfected.
I hated it. Mostly because it made me feel things I did not want to feel.
My father set down his papers. “While you are here, you will attend every pack holiday event.”
I blinked at him. Then I laughed. Loudly.
“Funny.”
The Alpha stared at me without blinking.
He was not joking.
“You are serious,” I said. “You want me to attend the carols and the baking contests and the festival and the parade and all of that madness. Why?”
“It is important for unity.”
“It is important for me to maintain my sanity,” I shot back.
“You will attend,” he said simply, “and you will represent the Alpha family with respect.”
“Respect died when you turned this house into a revolving door,” I muttered under my breath.
He glared. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I said nothing.” I dropped my fork loudly on my plate. “I do not want to be here. Why does that not matter?”
“Because you are part of this pack.”
“I did fine away from it.”
Ronan finally lifted his head. His eyes met mine for one second before he looked away again. It irritated me how calm he stayed while my father and I verbally set fire to the table.
“You were sent away because you caused problems,” Alpha Kade said. “We need no repeat of that. You will participate. That is final.”
I snorted. “Of course it is. Your decisions always are.”
“Ayla,” he said again, the warning already boring me.
I leaned back in my chair. “Fine. Whatever. I will go. I will smile. I will pretend I enjoy watching wolves pretend they can decorate.”
My father ignored the sarcasm completely. “Ronan will escort you.”
My fork froze halfway to my mouth. “He will what?”
Ronan did not react. He might as well have been stone.
“He will escort you,” Alpha Kade repeated. “Everywhere. Until further notice.”
“What am I? A toddler who needs supervision? A prisoner?”
“You are my daughter,” he said. “And there are dangers you do not understand. Ronan will ensure your safety.”
I stared at him. Hard.
“I do not need a babysitter.”
“I was not asking.”
I turned slowly toward Ronan. “Do you mind telling him how ridiculous this is?”
Ronan took a sip of coffee. “It is an order.”
That was it. The whole answer.
I clenched my fists under the table. “You cannot seriously be okay with this.”
“I follow Alpha orders,” he said.
“Even stupid ones?”
He looked at me for a moment. Just one. His eyes were tired. Closed off. Empty. Then he looked away again.
“Yes.”
My chest tightened painfully. I shoved the emotion down where it belonged.
“Fine,” I said. “Let us get this stupid meeting over with before I change my mind.”
My father nodded and returned to his paperwork as if we had not just argued for ten minutes straight. I stood from the table so quickly my chair screeched across the floor. Ronan stood too, moving with that quiet, controlled grace that made everyone else look sloppy.
He pushed his chair back neatly and walked toward the door without saying anything to me. I hated how used to that I should have been by now.
I followed him outside, the cold hitting me like a slap. The village stretched out ahead of us, covered in shimmering lights and ridiculous decorations. A giant wreath hung over the main square. Children ran through piles of snow someone had dumped earlier after clearing the roads. Warriors strung up more lights on the packhouse roof.
“Kill me,” I muttered. “Right here. In the snow. It will be a mercy.”
Ronan did not respond. Because of course he did not.
As we walked through the village, people greeted him warmly with smiles and nods.
“Good morning, Beta.”
“Ronan, everything set for tonight’s planning?”
“Beta Thorne, how is the border situation?”
“Morning, Beta. You look well.”
He barely answered any of them. Just small nods. Maybe one short word. He was polite in that quiet, distant way that made everyone respect him more.
Not one person looked at me.
Not one greeting.
Not even a fake smile. I did get a couple of glares though. That made me smile.
I stuffed my hands deeper into my coat pockets and huffed. “Do you notice something strange?”
“No.”
“Everyone is greeting you. No one is greeting me.”
He kept walking. “Yes.”
“That is rude, right? A normal person would think that is rude.”
“No.”
I stopped walking. “Why? Why is everyone acting like I am invisible?”
Ronan paused and finally looked back at me. “Because of what happened before you were sent away.”
My jaw tightened. “So everyone still holds that against me?”
“They remember.”
“What did I even do that was so terrible?”
He lifted an eyebrow slightly. “Do you want a list?”
“No. Do not do that. Shut up.”
We kept walking, but his answer stuck in my chest like a splinter. This pack had always loved Christmas more than anything. They had always been cheerful, festive, annoying, and bright. And I had always been the opposite. Even before my mother died, I had never been an overly happy person, but not many people are. There are the occasional people that are always happy, and I really don’t like them. But otherwise, there’s nothing.
Maybe I had never fit here. Maybe I never would.
Maybe that was the point.
I looked around at the lights. The trees. The perfectly decorated houses. The wreaths. The laughter. The carols echoing in the distance. It all felt like a punch in the throat.
This was the last Christmas I would ever spend here.
My last season in Snowyvale.
My last forced holiday.
This time next year, I would be eighteen. An adult. Free.
No more packhouse.
No more Alpha Kade.
No more women leaving his bedroom.
No more Christmas.
A smile tugged at my mouth. A slow, mischievous smile.
Ronan noticed. “What are you thinking?”
I turned to him, sweet as poison. “I am thinking this might be the perfect year to ruin Christmas.”
He stared at me. “Why?”
“Why not? I hate it. They love it. It is balanced.”
“Ayla, do not start anything.”
“Oh, I will start everything. That is the plan. They hate me because of past trouble I caused. They haven’t seen anything yet.”
He closed his eyes for a second like he was calculating how fast I could get him fired from his new Beta position.
I grinned wider. “Relax. It will be fine. Nothing illegal. Probably.”
“Ayla.”
“It is Christmas. What could go wrong?”
He ran a hand down his face. “Please stop talking.”
“No. This is the best idea I have had in months.”
“It is the worst idea you have ever had.”
“I doubt that.”
His jaw flexed. “We are going to the meeting hall now.”
“Is that where the Christmas torture continues?”
“It is a pack meeting.”
“So torture.”
“Ayla.”
“Ronan.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. Tension crackled between us. Annoyance. Frustration. Something else I refused to give a name.
Finally, he turned and kept walking.
I followed, smiling to myself.
If they wanted me to participate in Christmas, then Christmas was about to become a problem.
For everyone.
- Writer
