Chapter 1The day the pack healer marked my senses cursed, my family went mute.
For ten years after, our loud little den on Saltclaw Shore - the one that used to smell of salt, smoke, and pack - was traded for a cold-storage cavern.
My parents whispered like wolves planning a silent hunt. They even shipped Grandfather off to the Elder Den at Greyhowl Ridge.
All for me. Because one sharp sound, they swore, would break their broken pup.
Then came Alpha Lorenzo's fiftieth birthday.
That morning, Mother - our Luna - sealed every window and door crack with silencing moss and thick pelts. The back field became a feast ground. Eight long tables. Enough roasted meat and moon-ale for half the pack.
But laughter got in anyway.
Cups clinked. Wolves roared over drinking games. Old songs rattled the windows. It burrowed into my skull like a silver drill.
I curled in a corner, shaking. My wolf whimpered deep inside me, too weak to rise.
"Too loud," I choked out. "I can't - I can't take it."
The door banged open. Father stepped in - probably for more moon-ale. He saw me. The party flush drained from his face.
"What now, Nancy?" His voice dropped into an alpha's low rasp. "It's quiet in here. It's always quiet."
He dragged a hand down his face.
"Your mother and I have held our breath for ten years. Ten. Let me have one night. One. Is that too much to ask?"
He didn't wait for an answer. The door slammed. The floor shook. His last words cut like silver.
"If it's too damn loud, find somewhere else to be!"
Outside, some wolf whooped. "Turn it up! I can barely hear the drums!"
The bass exploded. A wave of sound. My vision swam. My head pounded. My wolf clawed at my ribs, trying to shift, trying to run. My body wouldn't change.
I scanned the storage den. Any corner. Any hole.
Then I saw the big commercial freezer.
Solid. Heavy. Sealed.
Silence had to live inside.
The yard noise crushed my lungs. My temples throbbed. My stomach rolled. A ring filled my ears. One thought. Quiet. I need quiet.
"Come on! Bottoms up!"
"C'mon, Lorenzo! Fifty only comes once!"
"Turn the music up! Let's celebrate!"
Their voices chased me like rogues. I stared at the white freezer. The heavy-duty unit my parents used for the fresh-kill trade.
I touched the handle. Hesitated.
I knew it would be cold. I knew crawling in would hurt. Then another wave hit. Someone yelled, "Another one!" Father and Mother were happy. I had to be a good pup. No trouble.
I yanked the lid open. Frigid air slapped my face. I didn't care. I squeezed inside.
The cold bit deep. Frozen shrimp and meat dug into my back. But the silence - Moon Goddess - the silence was the richest thing I'd felt in ten years.
Thick walls turned the pack into a faint hum. I curled into a ball. Finally, I could breathe. My body shook. Cold or relief? I didn't know.
I closed my eyes. Drifted.
Ten years ago flashed behind my lids. Freya was five. She leaned on the piano, crying, begging Mother to let her take lessons.
Mother knelt. Whispered, "Be good, Freya. The piano is too loud. It will bother your sister."
Freya wiped her tears. Nodded. Never asked again.
Later, Grandfather - the old wolf who used to fill our den with opera howls - was sent to the Elder Den.
He took my small hand. "Be good, sweetheart. Grandfather's voice is too much for this house. I'll do better outside. You stay and get well."
After that, all color and sound got sucked out of our home.
My mind went hazy. My eyelids turned to stone. I dreamed.
I was walking through a snowfield. Slower. Heavier. Strange. Snow everywhere, but I burned hot. I reached for my coat. Then a silver she-wolf appeared in the sky. Moonlight poured off her fur. She came down to me.
"Nancy, I'm lost. Did Mother and Father send you to bring me home?" I looked up, hopeful.
The Moon-Blessed she-wolf touched my head. "Nancy, it's been too hard there. You should go somewhere better."
"So... I can't go home?"
Then I thought: maybe this was best. If I vanished, the pack could go back to normal. They could live loud again, like tonight.
Father could laugh. Mother could tend her herbs. Freya could play piano and sing. Grandfather could come home and howl his old songs in the back field. They'd finally be free.
In the dream, snow fell harder. The she-wolf lifted me. So warm. For the first time in ten years, I felt peace.
No piercing sounds. No endless noise. No nerves stretched to snapping. Only silence. And a body growing lighter. Lighter. Lighter.
Chapter 2
My lips had gone purple. My skin looked like frostbitten moonlight.
I drifted out of the cold-storage den, a ghost-wolf no one could scent. The feast in the yard was dying down. Dad stood at the door, face flushed from moon-ale, saying goodbye to the last guests.
An old packmate clapped him on the shoulder. "Lorenzo, ten years hasn't been easy. Giving up that busy little den for your girl..."
Dad let out a dry laugh and waved him off. "Water under the bridge. Nancy's growing up. Who knows? In a year or two, we might fire up the roasting pits again."
I drifted back into the main den. Freya and her childhood friend Penny were clearing dishes.
"Where's your sister? I haven't seen her," Penny asked, voice low.
Freya glanced around. Checked I wasn't there. Then leaned in.
"Who knows? Probably off somewhere, playing the wounded pup again."
Penny paused. "Wounded pup?"
Freya let out a sharp, cold laugh. Her claws pricked her palms. She didn't sheathe them.
"You think it's that bad? Please. She's just used to being the center of the pack. One thing doesn't go her way, and boom - total meltdown. That cursed-senses card? She knows exactly when to play it to get whatever she wants from all of us."
Her voice rose. Her wolf flashed amber in her eyes.
"One time, I was practicing piano in my room. Quiet. Barely touching the keys. She storms in and slams the lid down. Almost took my fingers off. And guess what?"
"I had to apologize. Mother and Father said I'd upset her."
Freya's voice dropped, bitter and tight. "Sometimes I seriously wonder... is it really the noise she can't stand? Or does she just love having the whole den walking on silver shards, waiting on her hand and foot?"
Penny's ears twitched. She didn't answer.
Freya wiped her tears. "Forget it. I shouldn't say more. At least Dad finally got to enjoy himself tonight."
Mother came out of the kitchen. She saw Freya's red eyes and instinctively lowered her voice. Her wolf whined behind her ribs, but her face stayed still.
"What's wrong?"
Freya shook her head. "Nothing."
Mother sighed. "Freya, honey, I know these years haven't been easy on you. But Nancy... she didn't choose this. She'd give anything not to be like this."
Freya looked up fast. "Mom, do you honestly believe that? She loves it. Every wolf in this den moves when she twitches. All she has to do is give one look, and the whole house goes quiet. You really think she doesn't get off on that? On having everyone at her beck and call?"
Mother just stared. Speechless. She opened her mouth to argue, to defend, something. No words came. In the end, she closed it and said nothing.
I hung in the air, a ghost-wolf, my spirit shredded like prey between claws.
I remembered that night three years ago.
I had slammed the piano lid. Not because of the sound. Because that day was already tearing me apart. Hearing the piano made me remember when Mother used to teach me to play.
I had shattered. I didn't mean to hurt Freya. I just lost control. But I couldn't explain. I even started doubting myself.
Was she right? Did I really enjoy being needed?
Watching them whisper even while complaining, a sudden, stark thought hit me.
I was this pack's curse.
My death would be a gift.
Chapter 3
Late that night, the last guests were gone.
Dad was drunk, sprawled across the fur couch. Mom brought him a cup of bitter black brew. Her hands weren't steady. Her wolf paced under her skin.
Dad grabbed her wrist. His voice came out rough, barely a whisper.
"Savvy... does this make me a monster? When I saw Nancy tonight... part of me felt relieved."
Mom froze. Her claws slid out, then slowly back in.
Dad kept going. "I just... for once, I wanted her to feel it. A taste of what we've swallowed for ten damn years."
He glanced toward my den. Ears straining. Only when he heard nothing did his shoulders drop.
Mom was quiet for a long time. Then she whispered, "Lorenzo... sometimes I hate her too."
The words shocked even her. She slapped a hand over her mouth. Tears fell.
"I hate that it's this. Why couldn't it be something clean? A rogue attack. A sickness. Something we could fight. Not this... this silent prison."
Her voice cracked. "And I hate that look she gets. That wounded-pup look. Like we're failing her just by breathing."
Her voice rose. Dad clamped a hand over her mouth. Both went still. Eyes on my den.
No movement. No sound.
Mom kept whispering. "What scares me most... is forever. When we're gone, this burden falls on Freya."
"It'll steal her life. No mate. No pups. No future. Just this." She choked. "I'm scared one day I'll be so tired... I'll break. And I won't be able to take it back."
Dad held her. His shoulders shook. They cried without a sound. Their wolves whined, low and broken.
I floated beside them. Mom, it's okay. I fixed it. But no sound came.
Freya slipped out of her den, tiptoeing. It was second nature now.
"Dad? Mom? Should we check on Nancy?"
Dad waved a hand. "Check on her? No. Let her stew. We can't fold this time. She needs to learn the world doesn't stop for her tantrums. She'll get over it by morning."
Mom nodded. "Exactly. Tomorrow, we take our lives back. We do what we need to do. And if she can't handle that... maybe a pack sanctuary is best. For everyone. It's time we lived for ourselves too."
Freya blinked. Then nodded. Relief flickered in her eyes.
"I'll grab some shrimp from the freezer. Penny wants a hunt-fire BBQ tomorrow."
My spirit surged. Yes! Go! Find me! Then you can all be free tomorrow!
But Mom stopped her. "Not now, honey. It's too late. The last thing we need is noise waking her up and starting a whole thing. We're dead on our feet. Sleep. Deal with it in the morning."
Freya nodded and sat back down.
I floated in the air. I tried to push the cold-storage door. Tried to make noise. My hands passed through wood. I couldn't touch anything. I could only watch as they went to their dens.
I drifted into the cold-storage room. Looked at my own stiff body in the freezer.
When will you find me? Any later, and I'll look worse. It'll scare Mom and Freya.
Then another thought came. So what if it's ugly? As long as they can live normal lives after. As long as they get loud, bright days like tonight. My life for the pack's freedom.
Worth it.
