Never Free

Ch. 7 The Unbroken

One year later…

Xochi had spent the last year, learning so many new things. She still drew, but she found she had a knack at fixing things. She wasn't just good at it, she really enjoyed understanding the mechanics of objects.

She started by taking things apart at first. Then, Byron showed her some old manuals he found in the old dusty dilapidated building that served as the pack's archive and library. Those manuals had lit something in her and it was only a few weeks before she was fixing the Miller’s old radio or helping Judd with his boat motor.

She loved it, but her days were not filled with fixing things. She did that only after she was done with Amber’s tasks, and every day she had something for her to do.

Recently, Amber had gotten it in her head that the pack needed to strengthen its alliances, so she had reached out to the neighboring Barlow pack and invited their Alpha for a visit.

The Alpha had accepted, which sent Amber into a tizzy for the next week and a half. She had needed everything to be perfect.

She had even opened up the dining hall that sat in the middle of the pack homes. Byron had told her that Amber had closed it after his father died out of grief, but Xochi wasn't surprised that Amber would open it back up to try to impress someone else. It tracked for Amber, Xochi thought.

She wasn't sure about the old wooden structure at first. It looked like it was about to fall any minute, but as soon as Judd Colls, the old Beta, asked if she wanted to help repair it, she had fallen in love with the old building. It had its charm.

It wasn't long before the leaky roof stopped gushing, and the old rotten floor was replaced. Once it was decorated, Xochi was sure the old building would shine like a new penny.

Xochi had spent the days before the dinner busy fixing the stacks and stacks of old chairs in the dining hall. So, by the morning of the dinner, she was putting the finishing touches. She had reinforced joints and filed down the worst of the splinters. Byron tried helping her, but he kept getting splinters in his fingers. He wasn't as good around tools as she was.

After Amber sent her away from the schoolhouse, Xochi and Byron could only see each other for a few moments throughout the day—not like before.

Still, they found moments to share some words. Byron had begun to read ferociously, all in hopes of being able to turn back and share the stories he read with her. She had appreciated the gesture more than he would ever know.

Xochi stood back, looking at the chairs that were lined up in neat rows around the long table—gleaming and polished, waiting for tonight’s guests.

Alpha Darius Barlow and his Beta, Gary Henderson, were coming from the east, from the mainland. Amber had made it clear that she expected perfection from everyone in the pack. She had rehearsed the evening like a ceremony for days.

“Posture. Poise. Precision,” she had said like a chant.

Xochi hadn’t been given instructions, but that wasn't new. She wasn't part of Amber’s rehearsals. She had grown accustomed to being ignored and forgotten.

She was never in the ceremonies, meetings, or pack gatherings. She was there to make it run. Xochi actually preferred it that way. She hated being under Amber’s scrutiny.

Amber had become more venomous over the past year, so being ignored was Xochi’s safe haven.

That night, the guests arrived right on time. Amber opened the dining hall doors in a pink gown two shades too bright for the occasion, her red lipstick sharp as her smile. Brandon stood beside her, posture flawless, every step rehearsed.

“Alpha Barlow,” Amber said in her sugar-sweet tone. “It's so wonderful to have you as our guest.”

“Luna Walton,” the Alpha smiled before reaching out to shake her hand. “How lovely you look tonight.”

“Oh, why thank you, Alpha Barlow.” Amber beamed at the tall Alpha with salt and pepper hair.

“I hope you remember my Beta, Gary?” The man gestured to another behind him in a suit similar to the one the Alpha wore.

“Of course,” Amber replied as she shook the Beta's hand. “Let me introduce my sons,” she continued, as soon as she could manage.

“This is Brandon,” she smiled, taking a step back so Brandon could take the spotlight.

“It’s an honor to host you,” Brandon said confidently and shook the Alpha’s hand like they were equals.

A smile slowly spread across the Alpha’s face. “Well, if this isn't an Alpha in the making, then I don't know what is,” he chuckled, slapping Brandon on the back. “You'll make a fine Alpha one day, boy.”

“Thank you, Alpha Barlow,” Brandon grinned proudly.

“And this is my other son, Byron,” Amber chimed.

“It's very nice to meet you,” Byron said politely, nodding at the Alpha first then the Beta. They politely returned the gesture.

Xochi could've sworn that she could see Amber’s right eye twitch from the window she was watching from. She wouldn't have been surprised.

Once the guests were led into the dining hall, Byron found a seat away from the crowd and opened the book tucked beneath his coat.

“Not interested in our guests,” Xochi whispered as she passed nearby holding a water pitcher.

“Should I be,” he asked as he grinned at her. They smiled at each other for a beat. They both knew this was all a performance that Amber had orchestrated.

Byron turned back to his book and Xochi got a glimpse at it. Poetry. She caught the edge of a line: “...the quiet wolf speaks louder than the storm.”

She walked away, agreeing completely with the poem.

Once dinner began, Amber presided over it like a queen, sitting at the head, with her guest at either side. She happily chatted with the Alpha and Beta in her sickening sugar sweet tone.

Xochi moved quietly from seat to seat, pouring drinks and placing dishes. She was invisible, which she was fine with. She was the sole server for 27 people. She had her hands full.

Ms. Colton was in the kitchen, plating, then passing the dishes to Xochi. The poor woman was just as frazzled as Xochi, but eventually, everyone was served and Xochi had to do was freshen cups or offer sides.

She was leaning forward to offer a platter of roasted vegetables to the Beta, when the slightest tilt sent a single drop of sauce onto the edge of his sleeve.

“It happens,” the Beta said immediately. “No harm done.” A reassuring smile on his face.

But Amber had caught the incident. She laughed. Not kindly. Not dismissively. Loud. Sharp.

“Oh, no—it’s fine,” she said, rising from her seat with exaggerated grace. “She’s always been a little... clumsy.”

Xochi opened her mouth to apologize, but Amber already had the napkin in hand.

“She’s very good at pretending to be helpful. Fixes furniture. Draws in the margins of things she’s not supposed to touch. Quite the little handyman.”

Brandon snorted. One of the pack members gave a polite laugh.

“Of course, it’s easier to fix chairs than it is to fix manners. Or breeding,” Brandon laughed. Amber gave a tender smile before turning to the guests again.

The napkin dabbed at the sleeve—gently, pointedly.

“She forgets her place,” Amber said to no one in particular. “But we’re working on that.”

The blood drained from Xochi’s face. She said nothing. Couldn’t say anything. Her hands stayed still. Her eyes were on the floor.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

If she saw you cry, she’d win, she thought.

The Alpha’s gaze flicked from Amber to Xochi, unreadable. The Beta looked away. No one said a word—but something in the room had shifted.

“The platter was uneven,” Byron said suddenly, voice clear and calm.

The table stilled.

Amber turned her head. Her smile didn’t falter, but something in her eyes sharpened.

“What a charming defender you’ve become,” her fake smile firmly in place. “Does your father’s blood make you so soft, or is this just a phase?”

Byron didn’t answer. He just picked up his fork and sliced into his meat like nothing had been said.

Xochi’s chest ached.

He had defended her before—quietly, carefully, in shadows and side-glances.

But never like this.

Not where everyone could see.

The Alpha cleared his throat and said, “Well, Luna, I was hoping you would tell me more about the renovations you have done to this building. You mentioned it was quite a bit?”

Amber beamed at the Alpha, “Yes. It was a big job that took most of my men.” She waved Xochi away and focused on her guests.

Xochi quickly made her way to the kitchen and out the back door.

She needed a few moments to get herself back together. She wasn't going to let Amber get under her skin.

She just wasn't.

The evening passed without another incident and Amber said goodbye to the guests. Xochi stayed in the kitchen, cleaning up.

Soon, all the pack members had trickled home, leaving Amber and the boys in the dining hall.

Xochi had already cleared the table and was out of Amber’s sight. Just the way they both liked it.

But, while she wiped dishes alone in the kitchen, she heard Amber’s voice rising behind the kitchen's swinging door.

“You think protecting her makes you noble? You’re embarrassing yourself and undermining your brother.”

Byron’s voice came softer—but colder.

“You don’t have to humiliate her to remind us who’s in charge.”

“Everything I do is for my sons,” she shouted. “For THIS PACK! I will do as I see fit… even if you don't understand it.”

Xochi stepped away from the kitchen door and left the building. She was over today.

She had moved her things out of Amber’s house and into one of the decaying empty pack houses that littered the island. Amber had allowed it since it meant Xochi would be out of her hair more. So, she had found one that was close to the ocean so she could hear the waves lapping at night, lulling her to sleep.

She had spent weeks fixing it, making it livable, and now it was her safe corner of the world.

That night, Xochi sat on the floor of her room, her sketchbook balanced on her knees.

She flipped past pages of tools, trees, and little projects half-finished. At the back was one she’d started weeks ago: a wolf standing between two others, unfinished.

The middle wolf had Byron’s eyes.

She picked up her pencil and started to shade the rest in. His spine was straighter now. His shape more certain.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t break.

He stood for her. And that, maybe, meant she could too.