The tattooed outcast

I learned a long time ago to wake up quietly. Not because I’m afraid of anything hiding in the dark - monsters don’t bother coming into my room. But sound travels too easily in Blackridge House, and my stepmother can hear me breathe from three rooms away if she wants to. I push myself up from the thin mattress, the wooden frame complaining under me. Dawn leaks through the cracked window, painting the room in cold blue light. It makes everything look smaller, tighter… like the walls want me gone as much as everyone else. My wrist throbs. Of course it does. My tattoo always burns a little before sunrise. Like it’s alive. Like it’s reminding me it exists. I sit on the edge of the bed and unwrap the old bandage. The tattoo stares back at me, twisting runes, faint lines that almost hum beneath my skin. I don’t know what they mean. I only know no wolf should have them. Especially not me. Before they can glow, I rewrap the bandage quickly, tugging it tight. “Aura!” My stepmother’s voice slices through the silence like a knife dipped in ice. Always annoyed. Always harsher with me. “I’m coming,” I say, though my throat feels tight. I slip on my boots and leave my room, keeping my head down as I move through the hallway. Warriors cross in front of me, omegas rushing to their duties, everyone busy with preparations for the Ceremony tonight. No one looks at me. Good. I’ve mastered invisibility. At the bottom of the stairs, my stepmother stands waiting, arms crossed, lips pinched like she’s smelling something rotten. “You’re late,” she snaps. “I’m not,” I say softly. Her smile is sharp and cold. “ Whatever, you’ll take on extra tasks. The Alpha wants everything perfect for tonight. Try not to embarrass the pack again.” “Again.” I sigh. Because simply existing apparently counts as humiliation. I turn to head toward the kitchen, but something slams into me hard. A shoulder. Broad and Unbothered. I catch myself against the wall and look up just in time to see Rylan Thorn walking past like I’m an invisible object he accidentally kicked. Hundreds of wolves adore him. The Future Alpha. Beautiful, confident, cruel in a way he never gets punished for. “Watch where you’re going,” he says, not even glancing back. His friends laugh behind him. “Omega girl looks mad.” “She always looks like that.” “What did she do this time?” I pretend not to hear. Responding only makes things worse. I keep walking into the kitchen, focusing on my breathing - slow, calm, controlled. But the moment I step inside, something shifts under my skin. A pulse. Faint… then stronger. My tattoo. No. Not now. I press my palm over the bandage, trying to will it back into silence. Heat spreads slowly up my arm, the kind that feels like a warning. Tonight is the Ceremony. The night I officially turn eighteen. The night every wolf receives their place in the pack. I’m expecting nothing. Nothing is safe. But this heat… this awakening… It scares me more than anything the pack can do. My fingers tremble. My heartbeat stumbles. Not today. Please, not today. If anyone sees even a flicker of that glow, If anyone realizes what I’ve been hiding my entire life… I won’t survive the night. And somewhere deep inside me, under layers of fear and silence, a single truth whispers back: Something is waking. Something powerful. Something dangerous. And it won’t let me hide much longer.