Chapter 1To enforce my stepfather Alpha Draven Thornwick's version of pack law, everything in the Ironveil Pack house had a price tag.
A price sheet hung on the cold storage door.
Fresh meat from the hunt—five dollars per pound.
Milk—two dollars a carton.
Leftovers—three dollars per serving.
Mom Imara and my stepsister Briar Thornwick had special rights. They took whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
I stood there, stomach growling. But I couldn't afford my share.
Draven's voice cut through the kitchen. "You're not pack. You don't contribute. So how do you expect to eat?"
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
He shoved a paper across the counter. "Fine. We'll call it a Resource Debt Bond. You sign it. We track what you owe at 0.1% interest per moon cycle. When you're old enough to work, you pay it all back."
So I signed. For every bite of food. Every hour of heat in winter. Even for the pack trips Draven took with Imara and Briar that I never went on.
By seventeen, I'd racked up over six hundred thousand dollars in pack debt. And I still hadn't shifted.
To survive, I lived like a rogue. I pulled Briar's torn clothes from the trash. Wore her thrown-out boots until the soles split. Some nights, I begged humans on the street for food.
But that winter hit hard. A brutal flu tore through town.
My fever spiked to 103.6 degrees. My skin burned hot enough to blister. My wolf stayed buried deep, starved and silent.
Draven and Imara pulled out the pack ledger. Punched numbers into a calculator. Printed a fresh bond.
"We can take you to the hospital, Maren," Draven said. His tone was flat. "But medical bills are expensive. Registration, bloodwork, IV fluids—that's at least a thousand bucks."
Imara nodded, eyes on the floor. "Personal emergencies are your responsibility. Pack law."
I had nothing. So I signed again.
But they didn't take me anywhere. Draven said hospitals were a waste of money.
He went to the pharmacy instead. Bought a box of fever pills for eighteen dollars.
He dropped them on my bedside table. Imara stood behind him, silent.
"You're not my blood, Maren. But I'm being fair here. I paid for this, so you owe me twenty dollars. That's with a two-dollar delivery fee."
He held out the bond. A pen.
"Sign first. Then you can have the pills."
The fever had me shaking so bad I could barely see.
"Mom…" My voice cracked.
Imara turned her head. "Just sign it, Maren. You'll feel better once you take them."
I scribbled my name with shaking hands.
Then Briar's voice rang out from down the hall. "Dad! Mom! I cut my finger—it hurts!"
Imara shot out of the room.
"Oh no—my baby! Let me see! Is it bleeding?"
Draven was already grabbing his keys. "I'll take her to the ER. Get it stitched and a tetanus shot. Can't risk infection."
I lay there, tears running down my face, listening to the car engine roar outside.
I didn't get it.
Why did I have to sign a bond and pay twenty bucks for fever pills while Briar got a full hospital trip for a scratch?
Later, when she came back with a tiny bandage on her finger, Briar stood in my doorway and grinned.
"Because I'm Dad's real daughter. His Alpha blood. And your mom loves him, so she loves me most."
She was right. Briar was Draven's heir. She had his love. Imara's devotion.
I was just leftovers from the Emberfell Pack. The kid whose dad died when his pack fell.
And all I got was debt.
Chapter 2
I didn't have time to hang out at school.
Even with finals coming up, I spent lunch breaks scraping together cash. I collected bottles for recycling. Ran errands for classmates. Sat in the corner of the field copying homework for kids who were too lazy to do it themselves—a dollar per page.
But I didn't expect Briar to corner me against the gym wall with her pack of friends while I was hauling a bag of bottles.
She pulled a folded paper from her jacket pocket. The Resource Debt Bond I'd signed two days ago.
The slip read: "Emergency supply advance—personal hygiene products."
"See? Told you I wasn't lying," Briar announced loud enough for everyone to hear. "Maren Ashwood has to borrow money from my dad just to buy tampons.
"She's not even eighteen and already owes our pack over six hundred thousand dollars. Total deadweight. Who knows what else she's wasting money on?
"Seriously—if any of you hang with her, watch your wallets. She might steal from you."
Turns out Briar had been using me for gossip with her friends.
Whispers spread through the crowd. People stared. My face burned hot.
Tampons.
Having Briar announce that in front of everyone made me want to disappear into the ground.
My eyes stung as I lunged for the slip, but she held it up high, laughing.
Later, she showed it to the guys at school. Pinned it to the bulletin board in the main hall.
"Everyone needs to see what the top student really is. What's the point of good grades when you're drowning in debt before you even graduate? She's trash."
By the end of the day, I was the school joke. "The girl who borrows money for tampons."
Elder Vesper Oakenshield called both of us into her office.
Vesper was one of the few wolves who still believed in the old ways—fairness, protection of the weak. She tore into Briar for what she'd done, then called our parents.
Draven and Imara showed up fast.
Draven walked in wearing a sharp suit, all polished Alpha authority. He apologized to Vesper like he was doing her a favor.
But when Vesper mentioned "protecting a young wolf's dignity" and "providing basic necessities," Draven straightened his collar and smiled.
"You misunderstand, Elder. This is pack discipline. Teaching accountability.
"Maren's never understood the value of resources. Our system teaches survival skills. Independence. She signed those bonds willingly."
Vesper went quiet. There wasn't much she could say against an Alpha.
Once we left the office and hit the empty hallway, the smiles dropped.
Draven checked his watch. Imara got the message and turned on me.
"Maren, because of the mess you caused, your stepfather had to pull out of an Alpha council meeting. I had to cancel a pack alliance negotiation.
"That council seat cost him a territorial vote. My negotiation was worth three hunting ground agreements. Combined pack resource value—eight hundred fifty dollars."
She scribbled it down on a scrap of paper. "Goes on your tab. For wasting pack assets."
That's how my debt kept growing.
On the way home, Briar walked between Draven and Imara, holding both their hands. I trailed behind, alone.
She glanced back and stuck her tongue out at me, grinning.
That night at dinner, Imara suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom.
Draven froze. Then his eyes lit up. He dropped his fork.
"Imara!" He rushed to the door, pounding on it. "Are you—?"
They went to the pack healer that night. Came back with the news.
Imara was pregnant. Forty-two years old, carrying Draven's pureblood Alpha heir.
She kept touching her stomach, glowing. Draven looked happier than I'd ever seen him.
He turned to me at breakfast the next morning. "Pack resources need restructuring. The heir needs proper space.
"So, Maren, your room's being converted into a nursery for your future brother."
My heart dropped.
"Where am I supposed to sleep?"
Chapter 3
Draven tapped the table and pointed toward the back door. "Your mother and I decided. We'll close in part of the back porch and put a cot out there for you."
The back porch?
It was freezing in winter. Boiling hot in summer. Barely any walls. No heat.
I cried. I begged. Nothing changed. Draven and Imara didn't budge. Their message was clear—shut up and deal with it.
"We need to save resources now that the heir's coming. Maren, you're almost done with school. That means you're old enough to work a real job.
"Once you graduate next year, you're done. No college. You start working and paying back what you owe."
No. I had to get out. Elder Vesper told me education was my only escape.
I tried to argue. Imara's hand cracked across my face.
Then Draven pulled out the pack ledger. A thick stack of bonds with my name on them. He threw it on the table in front of me.
"Let's be clear, Maren. You're not my blood. This pack doesn't owe you anything. We've been tracking your debt for years.
"You know how much you owe? You're a drain on pack resources!" he shouted.
I held my stinging cheek and looked at Imara. She was glowing, one hand on her pregnant belly.
"Mom, I may not be his kid, but I'm yours," I thought.
But she wouldn't look at me. Just kept rubbing her stomach, lost in the joy of carrying Draven's pureblood heir.
She finally met my eyes, uncomfortable under my stare. She took a breath like she was forcing herself.
"Don't blame us, Maren. Raising a wolf costs too much these days. Your brother isn't even born yet, and we need to save for his training. His future Alpha education.
"You're practically grown. You should help ease the burden. Besides, you do owe us a lot of money..."
My eyes burned. I stared at her, couldn't believe what I was hearing.
That's when I got it. In this pack house, I was nothing. Just an outsider with a debt.
I didn't say another word. Just went to pack my stuff.
The unborn pup in Imara's belly—Draven's real heir, his true bloodline—wasn't even here yet. But they were already kicking me out to make room.
I got sick again the first night on the porch.
It was early summer, but the nights were still cold. Rain leaked through the gaps in the walls. Damp air soaked through everything. I wrapped myself in two blankets just to sleep.
One night, I woke up thirsty. Went to the kitchen for water.
That's when I saw it. A box of fresh meat on the counter. Prime cuts from the last hunt. Dark red. Still smelled like the forest.
Draven's note sat next to it.
"Babe, this is high-quality protein for the pregnancy. Good for the pup's development. Don't let the outsider touch it."
The outsider. That was me.
I stared at the meat and laughed—cold, bitter, silent.
Then I heard a groan from the bedroom. "Water... I need water..."
Draven was gone on pack business. Briar was out partying with her friends, staying at someone's house. It was just me and Imara.
I pushed the bedroom door open. Imara was in bed, face pale, forehead slick with sweat.
Being pregnant at her age was hard on her body. She got cramps at night. Couldn't move. In pain.
The second she saw me, her tone shifted back to cold command.
"Are you deaf, Maren? I've been calling you. Can't you see I'm in pain?
"Hurry up and rub my legs. They're cramping so bad!"
I stood by the bed. Looked down at her. Felt nothing.
"It's 3:00 a.m., Mom. That's outside normal hours. Night work costs double."
Her eyes went wide. Like she didn't recognize me.
"What are you talking about?"
