A HUNGER CALLED YOU

Sarah knew three things about being unwanted. First, people rarely said it to your face. Second, they didn't have to. And third, after eighteen years of hearing it in a hundred different ways, you learned to recognize it in silence. She recognized it that morning when she walked into the dining hall and the conversation stopped. Not completely. Just enough. A laugh died. A spoon stopped against a bowl. Someone cleared their throat. Sarah kept walking. She carried an empty basket against her hip, her head held high as though she hadn't noticed anything. She had become very good at pretending not to notice. The dining hall was already crowded. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, catching on the polished wooden tables and the silver dishes spread across them. Members of the Moonridge Pack filled nearly every seat. Families sat together. Friends leaned close. Mates touched each other without thinking. A hand on a shoulder. Fingers brushing beneath the table. A kiss stolen between conversations. Sarah looked away. It was easier. She crossed toward the kitchen. “Sarah.” She stopped. Mara was sitting near the centre table with several other women. Mara was beautiful. Sarah had always hated that word because it made people think beauty was something simple. Mara's wasn't. She was tall, curvy and perfectly put together, with honey-blonde hair that fell in thick waves down her back. Her skin glowed golden beneath the morning light, and her brown eyes were the kind people remembered. Sarah looked down at herself. Her own clothes were plain. A faded charcoal dress. A cardigan with a missing button. Bare feet. Her long dark-brown hair was loosely tied at the nape of her neck, and several strands had escaped around her face. She hadn't bothered trying to make herself look pretty. There wasn't much point. “Alpha Rowan wants you.” Mara said it casually. Sarah looked at her. “Why?” Mara shrugged. “He didn't say.” “Then how do you know?” Mara smiled. “Because I was there when he asked.” Sarah sighed. “Of course you were.” Mara's smile disappeared. “What does that mean?” “Nothing.” Sarah started walking again. Mara called after her. “And Sarah?” She stopped. “You're expected to work tomorrow night.” Sarah turned. “Tomorrow?” “The party.” Sarah had forgotten. Not because she didn't know about it. Because she had been hoping it might somehow disappear. The annual summer gathering was one of the biggest events Moonridge hosted. Other packs would come. There would be music, food, dancing and bonfires. And Sarah would spend most of it carrying drinks for people who wouldn't remember her name. “Wonderful,” she muttered. Mara laughed. “Don't look so excited.” Sarah looked at her. “I'm trying to contain myself.” A few people laughed. Mara didn't. Sarah turned and continued toward the kitchen. Behind her, she heard someone whisper. “Still doesn't have one.” Another voice answered. “Probably never will.” Sarah's fingers tightened around the basket. Her wolf. Or rather— The wolf she had never had. That was the one thing nobody ever let her forget. At eighteen, every wolf in the territory was supposed to have shifted. Some shifted early. Some later. But they shifted. The first transformation was considered one of the most important moments in a wolf's life. It meant you had finally become what you were born to be. Sarah had waited for hers. At thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Nothing. No wolf. No voice inside her head. No instincts that weren't her own. No sudden rush of power beneath her skin. Nothing. At first, the pack had waited with her. Then they had stopped waiting. Eventually, people stopped calling her delayed. They called her wolfless. As though it were a disease. Sarah entered the kitchen. Steam rolled around her as breakfast preparations continued. “Sarah, finally.” She turned. “Morning, Elise.” The older woman shoved a basket of vegetables toward her. “Peel these.” Sarah took them. “Anything else?” “After that, the dining room needs clearing.” Sarah nodded. She sat at the long wooden table and began peeling. Her hands moved quickly. She'd spent years doing this. Cooking. Cleaning. Serving. Carrying. Whatever needed doing. Nobody had ever formally told her that she belonged at the bottom of the pack. They hadn't needed to. It was simply where she'd been placed. The basket emptied. Sarah stood. A sharp pain pulled through her side. She froze. It passed quickly. She pressed her palm against her ribs. An old scar ran beneath her fingers. She had several. Thin pale lines across her ribs. One near her hip. Another along her upper arm. Most were old enough that she barely remembered how she'd gotten them. Her face, however, remained untouched. Not a single scar interrupted the pale skin of her cheeks. Sarah sometimes thought that was the cruelest joke of all. Her face made people assume she'd been protected. She hadn't. She picked up the basket. And kept working. By afternoon, the pack house was buzzing. The party preparations had taken over everything. Tables were being moved into the courtyard. Lanterns were hung from the trees. Flowers were delivered. Crates of food arrived at the kitchen. Sarah carried a stack of folded cloths through the hallway when she nearly collided with someone. She stopped just in time. “Sorry.” The young man in front of her stepped aside. “Watch where you're going.” Sarah looked at him. “Sorry.” He glanced at the cloths. Then at her. His expression changed. “Still no wolf?” Sarah stared at him. He smirked. She smiled back. “No.” “Shame.” He walked away. Sarah watched him go. Then muttered under her breath. “Shame you couldn't develop a personality.” A laugh came from behind her. She turned. Tessa stood there. Seventeen. Chestnut-blonde hair braided down her back. Bright blue eyes. Pretty enough to know it and young enough to enjoy knowing it. “You shouldn't say things like that.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Because one day someone is going to hear you.” “They hear me all the time.” Tessa grinned. “That isn't what I meant.” Sarah smiled despite herself. Tessa was one of the few people in Moonridge who occasionally spoke to her like a person. Not always. But sometimes. “What?” Tessa glanced around dramatically. “You haven't heard?” “Heard what?” “About the guests.” Sarah sighed. “I'm working, Tessa.” “This is important.” “Everything is important when you whisper it like that.” Tessa leaned closer. “Alpha Liam is coming.” Sarah frowned. “Who?” Tessa's mouth fell open. “You don't know?” “No.” “Blackridge.” Sarah shook her head. Tessa lowered her voice. “Alpha Liam of Blackridge Pack.” “Still doesn't mean anything to me.” “He's powerful.” “Good for him.” “He's rich.” “Wonderful.” “He's apparently ridiculously handsome.” Sarah looked at her. “That one sounds important to you.” Tessa laughed. “Maybe.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Why is everyone acting like he's some sort of celebrity?” “Because he is an Alpha.” “So is Rowan.” Tessa's expression changed. Sarah noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “You did that thing.” “What thing?” “The thing where you know something and don't want to tell me.” Tessa looked away. Sarah waited. Finally Tessa sighed. “Just... don't get involved.” Sarah laughed. “With what?” “I don't know.” “That makes no sense.” “I know.” Tessa walked away. Sarah watched her go. Then shook her head. Everyone in Moonridge seemed to know something she didn't. She was beginning to get tired of it. That evening, Sarah finally found Alpha Rowan. He stood alone in his office, looking over a collection of papers spread across his desk. Rowan was a handsome man. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark-haired. His features were sharp, his eyes a deep brown and usually unreadable. He looked like an Alpha. He carried himself like one. Sarah knocked once. “You wanted me?” Rowan looked up. For several seconds, he simply stared at her. Sarah had noticed that before. The way he looked at her. Not like the others. There was no disgust. No amusement. Sometimes there was something almost like guilt. Tonight, it was something else. Concern. “What?” Sarah asked. Rowan leaned back. “The party tomorrow.” “Yes?” “You'll be working the main courtyard.” “I know.” “You'll stay away from the visiting Alphas.” Sarah frowned. “Why?” “Because I said so.” Her irritation rose immediately. “That's not an answer.” “Sarah.” “I asked a question.” His jaw tightened. “You don't need to know everything.” Sarah folded her arms. “That's convenient.” “What is?” “You always seem to know things about me that I don't.” Silence. Rowan's expression changed. Just slightly. Sarah caught it. Her heart began beating faster. “What do you know?” “Nothing.” “You're lying.” “Sarah.” “Why won't you reject me?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Rowan went completely still. It was the question she had carried for years. Every wolf without a mate eventually learned to accept rejection. It hurt. But it was clean. Final. Sarah had never received that. Rowan had never claimed her. Never rejected her. Never explained why. He had simply left her in some strange space between belonging and not belonging. Sarah stared at him. “Why?” Rowan looked away. “I can't.” “Can't?” His hands tightened on the edge of the desk. “Just trust me.” Sarah laughed once. It wasn't a happy sound. “That's easy to say when you're not the one being kept in the dark.” She turned toward the door. “Sarah.” She stopped. Rowan's voice was quieter now. “Tomorrow night may change things.” She looked over her shoulder. “What things?” He didn't answer. Sarah stared at him for several seconds. Then she left. That night, Sarah lay awake in her tiny room. The pack house had finally gone quiet. Moonlight slipped through the window. She stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow. The party. The visiting packs. Alpha Liam. She couldn't understand why everyone seemed so interested in him. She didn't care. At least, that was what she told herself. She turned onto her side. Her fingers brushed the old scar beneath her ribs. For a moment, something strange happened. A warmth spread beneath her palm. Sarah froze. She waited. Nothing. She frowned. Then the sensation disappeared. She sat up. Her heart was beating too quickly. She looked around the room. Nothing had changed. No voice. No wolf. No explanation. Just silence. Sarah lay back down. She closed her eyes. Tomorrow was just another day. Another party. Another night of pretending she didn't hear the whispers. Another reminder that she was the girl without a wolf. The girl nobody chose. She had no idea that by tomorrow night, someone would look at her as though she were the only person in the room. And she had no idea that the man doing the looking would be just as confused by it as she was. For now, Sarah knew only one thing. She was tired of being told where she belonged. And tomorrow, for once— She intended to decide for herself.