Page 33 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Fern panicked, watching the wolves around her, larger than she could have ever imagined, howl and bound for the wilds beyond the castle.

Jules whined anxiously at her side, nudging her arms with his snout, teeth tugging on the cloak as though he could pull the wolf out himself.

But she remained.

Stuck.

She closed her eyes tightly, her pleas now audible from her lips.

“Alpha Darion isn’t even that mad anymore, please. Please, we must shift.”

Her hands clenched tightly into shaking fists, and she tensed her body until something warm trickled from her palms.

Blood, her nails having pierced her own skin in her efforts, but they were futile.

Her wolf was gone.

With a deep, shuddering sob, she fell to the ground. Jules circled her once before dropping heavily at her side, his brown eyes fixed on the clan as they disappeared into the dark.

He stayed, despite every instinct in him that must have screamed to run, to hunt, to answer the moon’s call.

And Fern wept into the dirt, knowing even this kindness was another reminder of her failure.

* * *

Dirty, exhausted, and starving, Fern stood in the Council Chamber once again, her cut hands clasped in front of her instead of behind this time.

The alphas had gathered to discuss her fate.

“She has suppressed her wolf for over ten years, I think it stands to reason it might take more than one full moon to awaken her,” Norden offered.

Karn nodded. “Aye. I have heard of wolves imprisoned underground who took several moons to shift again. A barricade made in the mind that must be overcome.”

Alastair’s hands crowned her head, his eyes closed in concentration.

She could feel him inside her, calling her wolf as she had.

But her wolf only watched from the shadows.

“I don’t know if we’ll ever reach her—she will not even come to me and my orders.” He sighed, fingers gently grasping her chin and raising her face to meet his. Fern’s eyelids fluttered, trying to keep back the tears. “You are both willful little things, aren’t you?”

“It is my fault,” Darion said, arms crossed. “I forgot about her, left her on her own. A lone wolf does not know how to serve a clan.”

The alphas grunted in agreement, and Fern began to panic.

“Please, I… I’m learning. I’m trying to be good.”

“Oh, little she-wolf,” Alastair cooed, taking her into his arms. She cried into his chest, the release not the one she’d hoped for, but still better than nothing. His chest resonated quietly as he smoothed her tangled head with his large palm. “I know you did not mean for this to happen. But intentions on their own hold little value.”

Value, boiled into something that could be measured, weighed, and counted by those who decided on their own terms what made someone worthy or not.

Fern had feared from the start she would not stack up, and last night only confirmed it.

She was practically useless.

“You bound her, son,” Alastair continued. “It’s your decision.”

“Darion is busy with his courtship,” Eidan said quickly. “I don’t think he has the time to give her the guiding hand she needs. I, however, would be happy to take her under my wing.”