Howls of The Outcast

CHAPTER TWO

When the Shine Wears Off

Evelyn POV

You know how they say all that glitters isn’t gold? Yeah, well, sometimes it’s just cheap brass that tarnishes faster than you can say “bad life choices.” My life with Lucas started out like a fairy tale well, a gritty, werewolf version of one. We were both artists, two dreamers crazy in love. I poured my soul into my jewelry, crafting necklaces and rings from copper and bronze since silver’s a no-go for wolves. I opened a little shop in town, front half a showroom with my pieces sparkling under the lights, back half my workshop where I’d hammer and polish until my hands ached.

Upstairs, a tiny loft where I’d crash during festival season when custom orders piled up. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, and I was damn good at it. My shop paid the bills, kept the fridge stocked, and gave me a slice of pride. Lucas, though? His art didn’t quite land the same.

He was a photographer, and I’m not gonna lie his work was stunning. His shots of misty forests and city lights could steal your breath and make you want to hop a plane to anywhere. He opened a gallery, full of big dreams, but it tanked fast. Turns out, his ego couldn’t handle the silence of people passing by without gushing over his photos.

Every ignored glance was a personal attack, every critique a dagger to his “genius.” Soon, my success started to feel like a curse. My little shop, my hustle, it all became a problem because how dare I shine when he was struggling?

Then his dad passed, and his mom, Diane, moved in. That’s when my home stopped being mine. I’d bought the place with my own money, but suddenly I was a guest in my own damn house. Diane rearranged my kitchen, tossed my throw pillows, and acted like I was the hired help.

If I opened my mouth to complain, I was “disrespecting” her or Lucas. “Know your place, Evelyn,” she’d say, her voice dripping with that old-school, keep-your-woman-in-line vibe. Lucas backed her every time. I started spending more time at my shop, making excuses to avoid going home. It was my sanctuary, the one place I could breathe. Until that got taken too.

Diane didn’t like that I was the breadwinner. “It’s not natural,” she’d mutter, like I was breaking some sacred wolf law by paying the bills. She got in Lucas’s head, convincing him he needed to “take charge.” And just like that, he did. He took over my shop, my bank account, everything. I was still the one designing, crafting, selling, but under his thumb. He watched me like a hawk, questioning every receipt, every hour I spent working.

I lost touch with my friends, my world shrinking to the shop and that suffocating house. My family, Dad, Sarah, Lily, Owen, they were all I had left, and even those calls got shorter, tenser, because Lucas didn’t like me talking to them either.

He never laid a hand on me. No bruises, no scars at least, not the kind you can see. His weapon was control. I made every dime, but he gave me a measly $20 a week. “You don’t need more,” he’d say. “I’ll get what you need.” He picked my food, God forbid I craved tacos when he was in a chicken mood. He chose my clothes, nothing too tight or too bright, because heaven help me if another guy glanced my way.

But it had to be “classy” so I didn’t embarrass him. Socially? Forget it. “I’m your friend, Evelyn. You don’t need anyone else.” The only thing he couldn’t touch was my bond with Dad, Alpha Henry. He tried, though. Oh, he tried.

We fought all the time, me clawing for scraps of who I used to be. If I pushed back about money, he’d sneer, “You’re just a bastard, Evelyn. You shouldn’t even exist.” He’d blame me for his failed gallery, saying I was a curse, that my “tainted” blood ruined his art. My lineage Mom’s pack, Dad’s pack, the whole messy story was a secret to most of Lucas’s pack.

I kept it quiet so it wouldn’t tank my business. Some wolves, the old-school ones, wouldn’t buy from a “mistake” like me, a kid born outside a fated mate bond. Lucas knew that and held it over me like a guillotine. “One word, and your shop’s done,” he’d threaten. I’d shut up, swallow my pride, and keep working.

When we fought about his mom or the house, he’d remind me I was nothing without him. “You’re not in your daddy’s pack anymore, princess. I’m in charge.” No matter what I said, I lost. Eventually, I stopped fighting. I wasn’t Evelyn anymore, just a husk, a puppet going through the motions. Even s*x was a chore. No spark, no want. I’d lie there, counting ceiling cracks, waiting for him to finish.

To the pack, I played the perfect mate, smiling at pack dinners, nodding at his dumb jokes. Inside, I was screaming. I was too scared to disobey, terrified of what else he’d take.

The one thing he couldn’t touch was my creativity. My jewelry, the way I could look at a rough stone and see its potential, that was mine. In my head, I built a safe place, a mental workshop where my ideas lived. When things got bad, Diane’s snide comments, Lucas’s cold orders, I’d retreat there.

I’d pick up a lump of metal and whisper, “What’re you meant to be?” tears piling in my eyes but I would let myself be all in the work. I know I was only asking myself the same question but too afraid to listen to the answer. The stones spoke when I shaped them. I never did.

Being Alpha Henry’s eldest came with duties, even at 30. Dad and Granddad never hid me, they were proud of me, always had my back. Owen, my little brother, was turning 17, and his heir ceremony was coming up. It’s a big deal: at 17, the next Alpha gets named, giving them time to find their mate and learn the ropes.

At 25, they take over, and the old Alpha, Dad steps into the elder council. Owen’s getting the Alpha mark soon, a full moon on his shoulder blade, proof he’s born to lead Oakridge. His mate, when he finds her, will get the Luna mark, a crescent moon, tying her to him. I felt for Owen and his future mate. Oakridge is a beast of a pack to run, and Dad’s shoes? They’re massive.

Sarah, my stepmom, called to check on travel plans for me and Lucas. I was over the moon, God, I missed them. “We can’t wait to see you, Evie,” she said, her voice warm like a hug. I hung up, buzzing, ready to tell Lucas. Big mistake. He was in the kitchen with Diane, and the second I mentioned the ceremony, his face twisted like I’d spit in his coffee.

“Why the hell would I care about your brat brother’s little crown moment?” he snapped, leaning back in his chair.

“He’s the next Alpha of the biggest pack in the States, Lucas. Give him the deserved respect.” I yelled back, but made sure my voice remained steady.

Diane’s green eyes narrowed a little, her lips curled into something Disgusting.“Mind your tone, girl. A proper she-wolf knows her place. Guess that bastard father of yours didn’t teach you right.”

Ember growled in my chest, begging to rip her throat out. I clenched my fists, holding her back. They controlled everything, my money, my home, my life, but they hated that Dad outranked them. Lucas slammed his hand on the table. “We’re not going. End of story.”

I scrambled for a way out. “Fine, you stay. But I have to go. Alpha Mason’s attending. If I don’t show, it’ll look bad for Dad and Mason. You want that on you?” Checkmate. Even Lucas couldn’t argue with two Alphas expecting me.

He growled, low and pissed. “Fine. But don’t test me.”

I packed in secret, buzzing with quiet excitement. A few days with my family, no Lucas, no Diane, just love and peace. I hit the road, barely 15 minutes out when my phone buzzed. Lucas. “You answer when I call, Evelyn, or there’s gonna be hell to pay,” he snarled.

“I’m just seeing my family for a few days. Chill,” I said, forcing calm. I wanted to chuck the phone out the window and crank my music.

“When I call, you answer,” he barked, then hung up. No “safe travels,” no “love you.” Just silence. I always wondered why we couldn’t mind-link like other mates. Dad and Sarah could connect across states. Me and Lucas? Barely a block. I blamed myself, like always. Guess I’d be glued to my phone, wondering what else he could take. Not like I had much left.

I cranked my playlist some old-school Green Day mixed with Taylor Swift, don’t judge and let the three-hour drive clear my head. Whatever was wait

ing when I got back, I wasn’t thinking about it. Not yet.