Chapter 3 Cinderella among the wolves

The walk home felt like a blur-my mind was spinning, the thoughts all jumbled and mixed up. It was like I couldn't make sense of what had just happened. One second, Beowulf had been glaring at me, giving me that unmistakable warning to stay away from the Wolf Moon-or else. But then, just like that, he'd ordered me to attend, throwing in threats about dire consequences if I didn't. The shift was so sudden, I could barely wrap my head around it.

A warm breeze stirred through the hedgerows marking the boundary of Alpha Gundahar's territory, but I didn't even notice. My head was too full of his words-of everything that had happened. My stomach twisted at the thought of Beowulf's harsh treatment and whether it had something to do with the fact that I was an outcast. But it didn't make sense. I tried to shake the thoughts off, but they lingered in the back of my mind, nagging at me.

I barely registered the sound of a Harley Davidson swerving around me as I crossed Lunaris Road.

"Ayla , Chlamydia!" someone shouted from one of the cottages lining Lunaris Square.

The insults were nothing new, but that didn't make them hurt any less. It had started with Fangley and Clawley's mother, who'd spread the rumor that my mom couldn't shift because she had syphilis. Never mind the fact that she'd been beaten senseless by that woman while pregnant with me. The cruel nickname had stuck, and it followed me like a shadow, no matter where I went.

I didn't even bother flipping them off this time. My mind was too far gone, consumed by everything that had just happened. I pushed on through the tree-lined streets of the wolf district, my thoughts still tangled up with Beowulf's behavior, wondering if it had anything to do with my status among them.

I turned the corner into the maze of alleyways that made up the rodent district, and the shadows from the tightly packed buildings swallowed me up. The sun couldn't even squeeze through the gaps between the buildings, casting everything in a grim, dim light. The stench of droppings, festering trash, and urine barely registered in my nose, but enough to make me instinctively pull my arms to my sides, trying not to touch the filthy walls.

The excited shouts of a street fight filled the air. My lips thinned. Was it Weasels versus Stoats today? Or maybe Hamsters versus shifters?

"Syphilis Syb!" a voice screeched, followed by a burst of laughter. "Get out of there before we burn your shack to cinders!"

My heart leaped into my throat, and before I even had time to think, my legs were moving, breaking into a run.

"Mum," I muttered, the word a desperate prayer as I raced through the mess of broken furniture, bags of trash, and unconscious shifters. I needed to get home. I needed to get to my mother.

When I finally rounded the corner to our street, what I saw made my blood boil. The front door to our shack was lying in the middle of the road, as though someone had just ripped it off its hinges. A crowd had gathered around our place, blocking my view of the doorstep.

Rage boiled up inside me, hot and sharp. This was my home. My mother. No one was going to mess with us.

"What the hell are you doing to my house?" I screamed, my voice rising over the crowd's roars and the women's shouts.

My words were drowned out by the chaos, but I didn't care. I shoved my way forward, pushing past weasel and rodent shifters until I reached the edge of the crowd. My heart thundered, my throat dry as my wolf pushed close to the surface, eager for a fight.

If they touched my mother...

At the edge of the crowd, I spotted the familiar faces standing at my doorstep. Frida, tall and sneering, stood beside Eliza, her second-in-command-an imposing black woman with braids. Healer Asena, the one I'd never fully trusted, stood on a box, her height giving her the ability to loom over the scene, though she wasn't much taller than the others.

My hands curled into fists. I could take on Frida and Eliza. Hell, maybe even four of them. But Asena was different. She was unpredictable, and I wasn't sure how far I was willing to push things.

"Get out of here," I snarled, my voice cutting through the air.

Asena turned slowly, her dark brown eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "Ayla Garrison," she said, her voice low and gravelly. "Your mother has been soliciting."

The words hit me like a slap to the face. I recoiled, feeling my chest tighten. "What the hell did you just say?"

Frida cocked her hip and smirked. "Tell Syphilis Sib that no one wants her shitty services."

I could barely process anything as I walked home. My thoughts were a whirlwind, replaying every word Beowulf had said. One minute, he'd been glaring at me with a warning about the Wolf Moon-stay away, or else-and the next, he was practically dragging me to it, threatening dire consequences if I didn't comply. What the hell was that about?

The warm breeze brushing through the hedgerows marking the alpha's territory barely registered as my mind kept racing, caught up in the mess Beowulf had made of my day. I didn't even hear the roar of the Harley until it swerved around me, and I barely cared. It was all too much.

"Ayla , Chlamydia!" A voice shouted from one of the cottages lining Lunaris Square.

I gritted my teeth. The insults were a constant. Ever since Fangley and Clawley's mother had spread that rumor about my mom-that she couldn't shift because of syphilis-it had stuck like glue. The truth didn't matter, not that it ever did. My mom had taken the beatings, the false accusations. It didn't matter that she'd been brutalized while pregnant with me. To them, I'd always be Chlamydia Ayla .

I didn't even bother flipping them off. I was too pissed. I pushed on through the streets of the wolf district, but my thoughts kept circling back to Beowulf. Why did he have it out for me? Was it just me, or was it because I was an outcast? It didn't matter how hard I tried to shake the thoughts-I couldn't. They gnawed at me.

I turned into the alleyways of the rodent district, where the shadows between the crumbling buildings swallowed me whole. The sun barely made it through the gaps. The air was thick with the stench of droppings, trash, and urine, but I hardly noticed. What I noticed was how close to the edge I was.

The noise of a street fight echoed ahead. Weasels versus stoats? Or hamsters versus shifters? It didn't matter. I was too focused on getting home.

"Syphilis Syb!" A woman's shrill voice rang out, followed by the threat, "Get out of there before we burn your shack to cinders!"

A cold knot twisted in my stomach. My breath caught, and without thinking, I sprinted.

"Mum," I whispered, heart pounding as I shoved through the mess of alleyway obstacles.

My feet barely touched the ground as I dodged broken furniture, trash, and even a few unconscious shifters. I had to get to her. She couldn't handle this.

When I finally reached our shack, the sight nearly made me combust. The door was lying in the road like it had been ripped off its hinges. A crowd had gathered around the place. They were blocking my view of the doorstep.

My blood boiled. This was my home. My mother. No one had the right to do this.

"What the hell are you doing to my house?" My voice cut through the chaos, raw with fury.

The crowd didn't stop. I didn't care. I shoved my way through, ignoring the sneers from weasels and rodents until I reached the front. My wolf clawed at my skin, itching for a fight.

If they so much as touched my mother...

At the edge of the crowd, I spotted the faces I'd been hoping to avoid-Frida, Eliza, and the healer, Asena.

Frida, tall and sneering, was the first to meet my gaze. Eliza, with her silent strength, stood beside her. And Asena, the healer I never quite trusted, stood on a box, using her height to make herself seem more intimidating.

My hands curled into fists. I could take on Frida and Eliza, maybe even four of them. But Asena was different. She was unpredictable.

"Get off my doorstep," I snarled, not giving an inch.

Asena turned toward me, her lips curling into a twisted smile. "Ayla Garrison. Your mother's been soliciting."

I recoiled, feeling like I'd been slapped. "What the hell did you just say?"

Frida tilted her head, her voice smug. "Tell Syphilis Sib that no one wants her shitty services."

I stepped forward, my voice sharp as a blade. "First of all, two of you are slandering my mother. She wasn't soliciting. And as a graduate of the University of Logris, her healing services are not 'shit.'"

Frida's teeth flashed in a quick snarl. "Those are my clients."

I arched an eyebrow, my voice colder than ice. "Seven other healers work in Lunaris. Some of them work in your clinic. You don't have a monopoly on anything, Frida, except being a jealous bully."

Asena hissed from behind me. "Did you hear her slander me?"

I turned on Eliza, fury burning in my chest. "What do you call running a woman out of business and tearing her door off its hinges?"

Eliza stayed silent, but her eyes flickered to Frida, who had no response.

Before I could snap again, I noticed the door to the house creak open slightly. My heart skipped. My mother had made it inside.

My anger surged again. They'd been harassing her long enough. No one had the right to treat her like this.

"Get off my doorstep, unless you want to settle this like wolves," I growled, standing tall, daring them to challenge me.

Frida looked momentarily unsure. "And risk contracting chlamydia?" she mocked with a nervous laugh. "Alpha needs me tonight for the Wolf Moon."

My wolf howled inside me at the thought of Beowulf and Frida, but I masked my anger. "Sounds like you want to avoid the ass-kicking I gave you last time."

Her eyes flickered with malice. "Tomorrow, it'll be one against one. Let's see how you like those odds."

I clenched my fists, narrowing my eyes. "Sounds great, considering the last fight with you and your three friends ended when you threw salt in my eyes."

A few snickers spread through the crowd. I didn't care. I just wanted them to leave.

Frida tossed her blonde hair back, trying to mask her unease. "Let's see how your brute strength holds up against the healer's magic."

I glanced at Asena, who was glaring at the retreating women, muttering curses under her breath.

"Do you need help getting down?" I asked, irritation seeping into my voice.

"Don't patronize me," Asena spat.

I raised an eyebrow. "Then kindly get off my doorstep, tell these goons to bugger off, and hand over two silver coins for the damage done to my door."

Asena's face twisted in annoyance, but she didn't budge. "That thing was barely hanging off its hinges."

I fixed her with a stare so hard it could've cracked stone. "Three coins, or the rodents get to see a wolf tear into their local doctor."

The healer's face went red, and her fists clenched. She was pissed, but she knew better than to take me on.

The crowd seemed to sense it too. Asena wasn't ordinary. Her magic was dangerous, fae magic, the kind that could break you if you weren't careful.

But to my surprise, Asena reached into her pocket, pulled out a handful of coins, and tossed them in front of me.

"No patient wants a healer too incompetent to heal herself," she muttered.

My wolf wanted to snap, but I held it back. There were more important things at stake. I glanced back at the house, checking on my mother.

By the time I turned back, Asena had disappeared into the crowd.

"I picked up your coins." Phina, my neighbor, stepped forward, a handful of golds, silvers, and bronzes in her hands.

"Thanks," I said, relief washing over me. I forced a smile, grateful for her help.

"I can fix the door while you check on Sybil?" Phina offered, concern written all over her face.

I nodded gratefully. "Would you?"

She handed me the coins. "That's your share. Go inside. Sybil needs you."

I squeezed her hand briefly, then stepped through the wards of my home. They had been set up to make the shack look abandoned from the outside, but inside, it was warm and inviting.

The fire in the hearth crackled as I crossed the oak floors. My eyes searched for my mother, but she wasn't in the usual spots-no curled form on the couch or chair.

The only sign she'd been there was the scattered leaflets on the low table. "Mum? Are you in there?"

She staggered into view, her eyes glazed, like she was half in another world.

My heart dropped as I rushed to her side. "Are you alright?"

She felt weightless in my arms. Like a bird too fragile to fly.

"Did they hurt you?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Who?" she murmured, her words slurred.

I smelled rhododendron pollen on her breath. I clenched my jaw. "Are you hallucinating?"

Her grip on my arm tightened, and her voice turned distant. "Tonight is the Spring Equinox of your twenty-first year. A time of great awakening."

I ran my fingers gently through my mother's honey-blonde hair, brushing it away from her face as I asked, "How much pollen did you take this time?"

Sybil's gaze was unfocused, and her voice was a whisper lost in the fog. "Only an hour's worth. I needed to check for portents... Do you know what I found?"

My frown deepened, but I kept my voice soft. "Mum, why don't you just sleep it off? You're not making sense."

Her hand gripped mine tighter, her voice distant but insistent. "You must go to tonight's ritual."

I blinked, trying to clear the confusion swirling in my mind. "Do you mean the Wolf Moon Mixer?"

She nodded, her eyes sharpening. "Tonight... you will meet your mate."

A chill ran through me, and I stiffened. The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth couldn't reach the cold that settled deep in my chest. "If this is about Beowulf again-"

Her voice cut through my words like a blade, sharp and unwavering. "Ayla ." It stopped me mid-sentence. "You were meant for better things than this. You have the blood-"

I swallowed the sharp words that wanted to rise in my throat. My lips pressed into a thin line as I repeated, "Yes, I have the blood of an Alpha running through my veins." She'd said it to me every day, as if the blood coursing through me meant I could rise above it all-above the bullies, above the struggles, above the years of weakness. I was supposed to be more.

Encouragement like that had been the lifeline I clung to throughout the academy. It had kept me grounded when the Ember twins and their pack of loyal followers made my life hell. Every taunt, every shove, every cruel word was met with the reminder that I was meant for something bigger, something better. And it had given me the strength to believe, for a fleeting moment, that I was destined to be with Beowulf.

But that belief? It had crumbled in an instant, shattered by a single encounter that tore my world apart and sent me spiraling back to the bottom, exactly where I'd started.

I sat by Mum's side, staring into her glazed eyes, feeling a tight knot in my chest. Guilt gnawed at me. "Sorry for being rude," I muttered, my voice softer than I intended.

Mum's hand reached for mine, her grip warm but weak. She pressed something into my palm. It was hard, jagged, and unfamiliar. "You're frustrated," she said, her voice distant, like she was speaking from another world. "But you're like the caterpillar that's outgrown its cocoon, itching to break free. Go to the Wolf Moon tonight. You'll meet your true mate."

I glanced down at the object she'd given me, turning it over in my hand. It was a four-inch-long piece of rusted metal. Diamond-shaped, with a stalk running the length of it. Two diagonal lines splayed from each side, forming a tripod, and a pair of lines jutted from the top two-thirds of the stalk.

"What's this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Mum sighed, her eyes fluttering closed as she spoke again, her words thick with weariness. "Fenrir's sigil," she said. "Wear it tonight for luck." She closed my fingers around the metal piece, her grip a little firmer this time. "When you look into your mate's blue eyes, he will unlock your destiny."

"Mum?" I shook her gently, my voice barely a whisper, but she didn't respond.

Her breathing slowed, evened out, and soon enough, a soft snore escaped her lips. I sighed, rolling her onto her back, adjusting the blankets so she was comfortable. Mum always did this during festivals. While others reveled in the celebrations, reconnecting with friends, family, or their wolves, Mum only had me.

I stood, stretching my back, the familiar ache running through my muscles from a long day of cleaning the guest house. The crack of my spine as I straightened made me wince, reminding me of how much my body hurt.

What did Beowulf want from me? His glare earlier had been so intense that it felt like he was daring me to regret attending the Wolf Moon. But then he'd promised Alpha Gundahar I'd be there.

Was Mum right about the whole true mate thing? My gaze dropped back to her, uncertainty sinking like a stone in my chest.

I had nothing to lose. Nothing at all.

And if there was even the slightest chance that Mum was right, that the Wolf Moon prophecy held some truth, then I owed it to myself to at least try. To go and meet my mate.