Mine, said the Wolf

"Better watch how you serve," Steward Pruitt hissed as he pinched Hailey's arm hard enough to bruise. "One drop on a guest, and I'll make you wish Lord Gault had left you in the gutter." "Yes, sir," she said, heads bowed, as she picked up the tray. "And always keep your eyes down. You make people uneasy." He wasn't wrong. Werewolves could sense one another's wolf as naturally as breathing, but when they passed Hailey Tarrant, there was nothing. No wolf, no familiar scent, only a gap in the air that frightened them more than an enemy would have. Her pale silver-grey hair only made her look more disturbing, so she kept it tucked beneath her servant's cap hoping no one would notice. Three silver coins. After ten years of working for House Gault, that was all that stood between her and freedom. She repeated the number in her head as she crossed the Great Hall with a tray of spiced wine balanced in her hands. Her back still hurt from last week's beating, but she couldn't afford to slow down. Around her, two hundred werewolves in silk and fine jewelry waited for the moon to rise so they could shift. Not one of them gave attention to the servants moving between their tables and nobody wanted to look at a Hush. That was what she was: An empty, wolfless hush. Being useful, being quiet and being nothing was how hushes like her survived. Under a loose board beneath her cot sat a tin containing three hundred and ninety-seven silver coins wrapped in her late mother's scarf. Her debt to the House stood at four hundred. Tonight's tips would cover the rest and then she would walk out through the iron gates and never look back. She was still counting in her head when something brushed her sleeve and she nearly dropped the tray. "Careful, little moth. Can't you watch where you're going." Ferris Gault lounged at a table with his friends. The lord's son was twenty and handsome, his eyes already glowing gold with the approaching shift. He wore a ring on every finger so that he could tap them against his glass while he decided whom to amuse himself with. "Forgive me, my lord," she said quietly. "I might." Ferris picked up a goblet from her tray and held it to the light. "But first, answer something for me." She bit her lip and waited. "What's it like?" "My lord?" "Being empty." He was smiling widely now. "We all wonder. It must be terribly quiet inside your head." His friends laughed. Hailey tightened her fingers around the tray. She had heard worse, but that didn't mean the words stopped hurting. Her uncle had said something similar the week after her mother's funeral, when he sold her. "A Hush is a curse on the family," he'd told the empty house. "Better she's someone else's problem." She still remembered the coin purse vanishing into his coat and how he never once looked back. ‘Three coins,’ she reminded herself. ‘Just three more.’ Then she gave Ferris a small smile. "Yes, my lord. It is quiet." Ferris raised an eyebrow, waiting. Hailey should have stopped there. She knew that, but somehow the next words came out anyway. "I recommend it for you." His friends stopped laughing. For one long second, Ferris simply stared at her. Then his smile disappeared and Hailey regretted speaking at once. He tilted his goblet and wine spilled over the toe of his expensive boot. He watched it happen without any attempt to stop it. "Steward," he called, never looking away. "The Hush has ruined my boots." Pruitt was already there. "Please," Hailey began, hating how small she sounded. "My lord, I didn't..." His palm struck her cheek before she could finish. The tray hit the marble, the crystal burst andevery head in the hall turned. "Foolish girl!" Pruitt snapped. "What were you thinking? You can't even manage something this simple." She dropped to her knees and reached for the shards. Her eyes stung, but she would not cry in front of them. "Give her ten lashes," Ferris said pleasantly. "Right here, so the others can learn." "Please." The word cracked in her throat. "The festival tips, I'll lose..." "You will forfeit them," Pruitt said. "And the glassware is eleven silver. It goes on your ledger." She did the sum as she was pushed to her knees: four hundred and eleven owed, three hundred and ninety-seven in the tin and no tips to close the gap. The door she had been walking toward for ten years swung shut in front of her. As the first lash landed, she didn't scream. She would not give them that. She pressed her forehead to the cold marble, counted and held on to the only thing she believed they could never take: a tin under a cot and a scarf that still smelled of her mother's lavender. Six... Seven... Eight... Around her, wolves sipped their wine and went back to their talk. A lute started up again. Nine... The tenth never came, as a bronze gong rang once and the whole hall went still. Lord Gault had risen from his seat. He was a broad man with a white beard and he raised one hand toward the high window where the moon was just beginning to climb. "Friends. Tonight, House Gault honors the old ways." On the altar behind him, laying on a velvet cushion, was a disc of pale metal no bigger than a child's palm, carved with a single crescent: the Moon Seal of Gault. Hailey had seen it before, but never this close. As she lay on the floor, something pulled at her chest. She frowned, trying to understand the strange sensation. It was faint, like the feeling of being watched. "For three generations, our blood has protected this Seal," Lord Gault continued. "At the Council of Houses, it must travel with a Gault heir. That has always been our duty." He paused, letting the guests listen. "But I have no intention of risking my son's life on that journey. Tonight, I will show you that someone outside our bloodline can carry the Seal in his place." A few guests exchanged curious looks. Lord Gault turned toward the servants. "Ned. Come here." A thin man in a grey tunic stepped out of the shadows, his hands trembling inside a pair of leather gloves. Hailey recognized him at once. Ned had once slipped her half a roll of bread when she hadn't eaten for two days. He had three little girls in the lower village. "My lord," Ned said uncertainly. "You said the gloves would protect me." "They will," Gault assured him. Hailey pushed herself up slightly. Something about the way Ned was looking at the Seal made her uneasy. "Come forward, Ned." Gault's voice hardened. "Stop hesitating." Ned approached the altar and reached out to touch the Seal. For a moment, nothing happened. Then pale light spread across his gloved fingers. Ned stared at his hand. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The light climbed his arm, bright enough to show through the sleeve of his tunic. His knees gave way andhe fell face-first onto the marble. Everyone gasped, then the hall went cold silent. Hailey watched it all, eyes wide, her mouth quivering. Lord Gault looked down at the body. There was no sorrow on his face. He looked irritated, like a man whose tool had broken. "Again," he whispered at first. “Again!.” He shouted as his eyes moved across the room, searching. Then they settled on Hailey. She was still kneeling in wine and broken glass, her back soaked in her own blood. His gaze lingered on her and she understood what he was thinking. "No," she whispered. "That girl. The Hush. Bring her!" Two guards hauled her across the floor, as she fought and kicked, her feet smearing red on the marble and dropped her beside Ned's body. "Please." The tears finally came. "I'm three coins from my freedom. I just want to go home. Please, please don't do this, I'm begging you..." Gault crouched and lifted the Seal by its chain, holding it over her face, close enough that she felt its strange pulse. "Hushes are expendable," he said gently. "And you… you're too unimportant to be missed. No family, no wolf. You're too weak and you'll die eventually anyway. Be glad I am giving you a chance to be useful." He forced her palms open and dropped the Seal into them. Everyone held their breath, watching eagerly. ‘Mama,’ she thought and closed her eyes. ‘I was so close.’ The Seal touched her skin and nothing happened. She waited for the pain, but it didn't come. Hailey opened her eyes and looked down. The Seal was glowing, but not with the faint light that had crept up Ned's arm. This was brighter, almost blinding. Silver light spilled between her fingers and climbed toward her shoulders. She stared at her hands as she felt something move inside her. Around her, the guests rose to their feet, holding their breath. Ferris's goblet slipped from his fingers and this time truly hit the floor. Even the guards stepped back. Nobody seemed willing to come closer. Outside, the moon rose brighter and its silver light poured across Hailey's face. Lord Gault stared at her. The confidence had vanished from his face. "Impossible," he breathed. Then his voice rose and rolled through the silent hall. "Seal the doors. Nobody leaves."