Chapter Two

SCARS IN SILENCE

I woke up missing my parents. After everything that happened, I really wished they were here, and I didn't know what I was supposed to do without them.

My fingers found the picture frame beside me before I even got out of bed. My parents were smiling in the picture. My mother's hair was braided down her back, and my father had one arm around her shoulders while his other hand rested on mine. They looked so happy.

I stared at the picture for a while before a tear rolled down my cheek.

"I wish you were here," I whispered. "I wish I didn't have to deal with this alone."

I sat on the floor beside the fireplace and looked at the picture again, and I started remembering the times I spent with them.

I remembered my mother braiding my hair while she sang songs from her tribe. I remembered my father taking me into the forest when I was five and teaching me how to move quietly.

"Quieter," he would tell me. "The forest already knows you're here, so don't make it easier for it to find you."

"How is that fair?" I would complain. "Everyone else can shift and run faster than me. I have to learn everything the hard way."

He would tap my nose and laugh.

"Nothing about surviving is fair, Ava. That is why you have to learn anyway. Having a wolf makes you fast, but it doesn't automatically make you smart, and it doesn't make you strong when things get difficult."

"You always say that."

"Because it is always true."

I remembered how my father looked at my mother whenever he thought nobody was watching, and how happy my mother became whenever I walked into a room. They loved each other, and they loved me too. That was the kind of family I wanted for myself one day.

Then I remembered Malrik, and I immediately felt bad again. I remembered his face, his hands, and all the promises he had made to me, and I had believed every single one of them. I really thought he loved me, and I thought we would eventually rule together and have a family of our own. Instead, he rejected me in front of everyone.

I clenched my fists and tried not to cry again. I had already cried enough the night before.

The next few days were difficult. I stayed inside most of the time and avoided everyone. Nobody came to check on me, and I didn't expect them to. The village was full of people, but I had never felt so alone.

Sometimes I went into the forest just to get away from everyone. It was the only place where I could sit without hearing people whisper about me.

One afternoon, I found myself sitting against the old oak tree at the edge of the glade.

"You could at least pretend to be surprised," I said to myself, looking around the empty forest. "You knew this was coming. Everyone knew."

Of course, nobody answered me. I sighed and rested my head against the tree. At least I could sit there without people staring at me.

My feet always brought me back to this place. This was where my parents used to train me when I was younger. The stones still had marks from my father's training blades, and there were small cuts on the oak tree from my mother's knives. I walked over and touched one of the marks.

My parents had spent years teaching me how to protect myself, and they never treated me like I was weak because I didn't have a wolf. They believed in me when everyone else looked at me and saw nothing.

"You are more than what they see," my mother told me once. "One day, you will show them what they missed."

"But I don't have a wolf, Mama. What will I show them?"

She knelt in front of me and placed her hand over my heart.

"You have something they can't even imagine yet. You just have to trust me."

I didn't understand what she meant back then, and honestly, I still didn't, but I remembered those words.

That evening, I sat on the floor of my room with my father's old journals around me. Most of them contained maps, training instructions, and information about different packs. Then I found the journal with the dark leather cover, and I opened it and started reading.

It contained information about our family history, and there were things inside that I had never seen before. My family had a kind of power that was older than the wolves, something that had been passed down through our bloodline.

My mother had told me about it once, and she had made me promise never to tell anyone.

"Some powers aren't meant for this world, Avelyn," she told me while holding my hands. "People are afraid of things they don't understand. A wolfless girl with this kind of power would scare them more than an alpha."

I stared at her. "Is that why I don't have a wolf? Is it because of this?"

She didn't answer me immediately. She just looked at me. There was sadness in her eyes, but I could also see that she was proud of me.

"You have something better, my love. You just don't know it yet."

I listened to her, and I kept my power hidden. I never showed people what I could really do, I never fought harder than necessary, and I always tried to stay out of trouble. I kept my head down because I knew what would happen if people discovered the truth. A wolfless girl who was stronger than she looked would become a target.

Looking back now, I realize I did the same thing with Malrik. I hid parts of myself because I wanted him to love me, and I made myself smaller for him. And what did I get in return? He rejected me.

That night, I walked over to the mirror above the washbasin and looked at myself. I looked tired. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my amber eyes didn't look the way they used to. I pushed my sleeves up and looked at the scars on my arms. Some were old, while others were newer.

"No wolf," I said as I looked at myself. "No mate. No pack that wants you." I looked at the scars again. "But you're still here."

I didn't know what to say after that. I had gotten many of those scars while training alone. Some came from falling out of trees, others came from pushing myself too hard because I didn't have a wolf to help me heal, and there were also times when I hurt myself without meaning to because I didn't know how else to deal with everything I was feeling.

I looked at my arms for a long time. Those scars reminded me of everything I had been through. I had suffered, I had been alone, and I had been rejected, but I was still here.

I didn't want to keep feeling sorry for myself. I didn't want Malrik to control the rest of my life just because he rejected me, and I didn't want the villagers to decide who I was either. I also didn't want to keep hiding.

The next morning, I packed a small bag. I put some dried herbs inside, along with a flask of water and my father's dagger, his initials still carved into the handle. I also packed my dark green cloak.

When I stepped outside, the sun was already coming up. I stood there for a moment and looked at my home. I was still hurt, and I was still angry, but I knew I couldn't stay there forever.

I had spent my whole life hiding because I was afraid of what people would do if they found out about my power. Now I wanted answers. I wanted to know what I was capable of, and I wanted to know why I was born without a wolf and why my family had kept this power a secret.

My parents had always talked about places outside the village, places where people knew about powers that were different from those of wolves. Maybe I would find the answers there.

I didn't know what would happen to me once I left, but I knew I couldn't stay. I took one last look at the house.

"I'll make you proud," I whispered to my parents. "I promise."

Then I picked up my bag and started walking into the forest. This time, I wasn't running away. I was leaving because I wanted to find out who I really was.