The Curse of the Red Wolf

Chapter Three

The front door slammed so hard the walls shook.

"Odina!"

I froze beside the dining table.

"TELL ME WHY YOU WERE AT THE TRAINING GROUND!"

Tala stormed into the house like a hurricane, fury rolling off her in waves. Her training bag flew from her shoulder and crashed somewhere across the room, but she didn't even look at where it landed.

I slowly lowered the plates in my hands onto the table.

The smell of stew filled the small house, warm and heavy — but suddenly the air felt thin.

I already knew this was about me.

Tala stopped in front of me, her chest rising and falling hard from anger.

"What did I tell you?" she snapped. "I told you not to ruin my day today!"

"I didn't—"

"I told you not to come to the training ground!"

Her voice cut through the house so sharply that I flinched.

"But no one saw me there," I said quietly. "I stayed hidden the entire time."

"Liar!" she shouted immediately. "Then why did you run?"

My lips parted.

"Chayton spotted you, didn't he?"

My breath caught at the sound of his name.

"I-I didn't mean to—"

"He's the Alpha's son, Odina!" Tala hissed. "Do you understand that? The future Alpha of the Red Moon Pack!"

Her eyes burned with disgust as they swept over me.

"I don't want him…or anyone else…associating me with you."

I lowered my gaze quickly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just wanted to watch the training for a little while."

Tala laughed bitterly.

"Of course you did. So you could stand there hiding behind trees like some creepy stray?"

"Tala," another voice interrupted gently.

Anya walked out from the kitchen carrying a bowl of meat stew, concern written across her face.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"She's what's wrong." Tala pointed at me without looking away from her mother.

"Tala, calm down—"

"No!" Tala snapped. "I told her to stay away from me, but she never listens!"

"She already said she was sorry," Anya replied softly.

Tala scoffed.

"She's always sorry."

I stood there quietly while Anya guided Tala toward the table, speaking to her in a soft voice as she tried to calm her down. She always handled Tala with patience and gentleness, like Tala was something precious that might break.

With me, things were different.

There was always a distance between us that I could never cross no matter how hard I tried. Sometimes, when she looked at me, I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I was nothing but a sick wolf.

But Herrick had never looked at me that way.

He used to smile at me like there was nothing wrong with me at all. Like I mattered just as much as everyone else.

But he was gone now.

And ever since he died, it had stopped feeling like home.

Anya only seemed to notice me whenever it had something to do with my health or my medication. That was all I had become to her — a fragile thing that needed monitoring so it wouldn't collapse one day.

"Odina," she called suddenly, pulling me away from my thoughts. "Did you take your pills this morning?"

I looked up at her and swallowed quietly before nodding. "Yes, I did."

"Good," she replied simply before turning her attention back to Tala.

There were never any questions about how I was feeling or whether my day had gone well. She never asked if I was tired, lonely, or hurting inside. Our conversations always seemed to revolve around the same things — medicine, healers, and all the endless reminders about how weak my body was.

My fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of my dress.

I had been sick for as long as I could remember. The healers called it a weak heart, a condition serious enough to stop me from ever becoming like the others.

According to them, my body would never survive a wolf awakening. If I ever tried to force a transformation, my heart would fail before the shift could even be completed.

That was why I could never train with the rest of the wolves or dream of becoming one of them someday. Anya always said it was better for me to live quietly among humans — that one day I would be married off to a human man far away from pack life and all its dangers.

Sometimes I hated my own body for betraying me this way. I hated how fragile it made me feel, how different I was from everyone around me.

Sometimes I imagined what it might feel like to run freely through the trees like the others — to feel the wind against my fur, to lift my face toward the sky and howl without fear.

To finally belong somewhere instead of feeling like a mistake the world had simply moved on from.

But dreams were dangerous things. And mine had a habit of turning into nightmares.

My thoughts found him again, the way they always did.

The stranger from my dreams.