Page 104 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Fern waved at the tray with a tired hand. “You can take it. I’m finished.”

“I’m here to help you get ready for dinner.”

Dinner?

She looked out the window again, and it was dark.

Her mind swam through murky waters as she blinked, trying to make sense of it all. “How long have I been asleep?”

It felt like days.

The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been here since I dropped off your breakfast.”

She blinked again. “Who brought lunch?”

The woman looked nervous. “I… I didn’t see anything, and I wasn’t instructed to bring you anything either. Um… Alpha Darion’s been very busy at the temple with Lady Kyntha since the morning. I’m sure it was just an oversight.”

Her stomach couldn’t even muster a rumble in offense.

Her wolf did, though.

Our alpha has been disappointing.

I warned you he didn’t like us.

She snapped her jaws. He does! It’s the other she-wolf. She confuses him… We should kill her.

Fern snorted and got out of bed, her body shakier than it had been that morning. Yeah, I’d like to see us try.

Once she was standing, the Solvekh had her sit in front of her small mirror, and Fern nearly growled at her own reflection.

Her hair looked worse than before Reinn had washed it, while dark circles like bruises sat under her eyes and her cheeks had lost the fullness they’d had before she’d come here.

She looked much older than her twenty years.

The Solvekh knelt in front of the cedar chest and opened it, pausing for a moment, and then shut it again.

“Um… it appears you don’t have clothing.”

Fern turned around slowly, looking at the Solvekh’s worried expression.

And then down to her tunic, borrowed from Reinn.

Even the Ashpaw had a dress.

“I don’t think Alpha Darion will be pleased if I show up to dinner in this…” Fern mused, picking at the hem.

The Solvekh’s eyes widened, and she shook her head furiously. “No, most definitely not. I’ll address this with him at once.”

And then she sprang to her feet and out the door, still having time to lock it behind her.

Darion was too busy to remember to feed her, but available to speak with the staff about wardrobe troubles.

Actually, it made sense in a sad way, because showing up like this would be an obvious sign of his neglect in front of the clan. A skipped meal, though? Much more subtle.

She barked out a laugh, letting out a few more until finally they overtook her, making it difficult to breathe.

And too quickly they turned into tears, into sobs. Placing her arms on the table, she bent over to cradle her head between them, her whole body shaking from the effort. From her exhaustion.