The Abused Wolf

bused

pte

ght Th

ng. She's sitting behind me on the floor, her fingers gently tugging through my hair. There's a blanket

ights li

n the stove, and the wind outside hasn'

er. She smiles when our eyes mee

est hair, baby girl.

It's not one of the pack songs. This is hers. Just hers. The kind she only sings when the doo

nt door

ift of Dad's chair from the table, the soft scra

low, his hand brushing the edge of the wall near wher

der now, the wind outside suddenly s

Her fingers squeeze,

the p

g, blanket dragging, feet cold as they hit the wood floor. The pantry door

ill see

him now, tense, her hands clenched in front of

e kn

. Pr

sil

that makes me jump. Cold air blasts in, and

him. He's Beta to Alpha Garrick. He gave me a ribbon f

t smili

of them grab his arms. Another swings and punches him acros

the hair and yanks her back. The scream that comes out of her throat

r the words. His face is bloodie

. Hard. She goes down. The sound of her body hitting the fl

er says from the doorwa

mom under the arms. Her head lolls

sn't

out like she

ve. I can'

or sla

es again like i

verything

de glows through the cracks in the wood walls. I push the pantry

use is

lood on t

s axe i

is lying in the

round it. I sit on the rug where my

make a

on't knock. They don't ask if I'm

my arm and drag

y my name sto

someone's daughter... and start