The List
555 Words
Mara learned early that silence was more dangerous than noise.
In the pack, growling meant warning. Fighting meant territory. Even blood meant something had already gone wrong.
But silence meant the wolves were watching.
She stood at the edge of the clearing, seventeen years old and pretending to fix the torn strap of her bag. Her hands moved slowly, carefully, even though there was nothing left to fix. The fire burned low in the center, its blue flames barely cutting through the darkness.
Around it, the pack gathered.
No one spoke.
They never did on List Night.
Mara kept her eyes down. Humans were not meant to meet werewolf gazes for too long. It was a rule she learned the hard way — the same way she learned most things in this territory: through pain.
Across the clearing, she saw Kade.
He stood among the younger wolves, tall, broad-shouldered, his posture already tense like he expected violence. His eyes flicked to her for a second — just long enough for her to understand the message.
Stay still. Don’t draw attention.
Kade had been her shield for five years.
Not because he was kind. He wasn’t. He fought too much, spoke too little, and had a temper that scared even other wolves.
But when Mara was dragged into the pack territory half-dead, it was Kade who stood in front of her and said:
“She’s mine.”
Not as family.
Not as love.
As possession.
And in this pack, possession meant protection.
The Alpha arrived last.
Mara felt him before she saw him. The air shifted, pressure settling into her chest like a weight. Conversations died instantly. Even the fire seemed to lower itself.
The Alpha held a folded piece of paper.
Her stomach dropped.
The list.
“This year,” the Alpha said calmly, “we cull one.”
Mara’s fingers dug into her palm.
“The weakest member will be hunted until sunrise.”
Her heart started to race.
The Alpha lifted his head.
And his eyes landed on her.
Not with hatred.
Not with interest.
With indifference.
He read the name.
“Mara.”
The world didn’t collapse.
There was no scream. No dramatic reaction. Just the sound of blood rushing in her ears.
Kade moved first.
“No.”
Every head turned.
“You challenge the list?” the Alpha asked.
“She’s not weak,” Kade snapped. “She survived this pack longer than most of you.”
The Alpha’s gaze was cold. “She is human.”
Silence again.
Mara grabbed Kade’s arm. “Stop.”
He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. “They’ll kill you.”
“They were always going to,” she said quietly.
“The hunt begins at moonrise,” the Alpha said.
Then he turned away.
The pack began to disperse — already planning, already hungry.
Kade leaned down to her, voice shaking. “We’ll run.”
“They’ll track us.”
“I’ll fight.”
“They’ll outnumber you.”
“I’ll die with you then.”
That was when fear finally turned into something worse.
Guilt.
“No,” Mara whispered. “You won’t.”
Above them, the moon climbed higher.
And in this world, the moon didn’t mean romance.
It meant time was running out.
- Writer
