Chapter 4: Birthday and a burden
Hazel’s POV
Happy birthday to me.
Tomorrow had finally arrived. The day I’d been dreading and secretly hoping for all my life. My eighteenth birthday. The day I might.—feel the stir of a wolf inside me. But that hope was as fragile as a soap bubble. I hadn’t slept a wink last night, tossing and turning beneath thin sheets that did nothing to soothe the storm within me. My thoughts wouldn’t let me rest, each one clawing at my peace like a desperate prisoner.
And then there was the sound of Natasha’s overexcited laughter echoing through the walls, mingling with my other sisters’ shrill voices as they celebrated themselves, again. I knew that sound well. It meant new gowns had arrived. And when Selene and the others got new gowns, I got the old ones their castoffs, tossed at me like I was a walking ragdoll with no pride or feeling. It wasn’t even noon yet, and I already hated this day.
Then, the door creaked open softly. A tiny presence slipped through, and before I could blink, a small, warm body had wrapped itself around me.
"Happy birthday, big sis," Ariel said, her voice soft and sweet like honeyed tea.
She ran up to me and planted a kiss on my forehead, her blonde hair tickling my cheeks. Before I could say a word, she shoved something warm into my palm.
"I couldn’t make a cake," she said, cheeks flushed, "so I did this."
A cookie. Slightly lopsided, a little too crumbly, but perfect in every way that mattered. I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes, hot and unwelcome. No one had ever done anything like this for me. Not even close. I pulled her into a tight hug, burying my face in her soft, clean-smelling hair. Her tiny arms clutched me back with surprising strength.
She looked like her sisters—long blonde hair, pale skin, angelic blue eyes—but she was nothing like them. Ariel had a heart of gold, untouched by the rot that infected the rest of this family.
She pulled back, her big eyes searching mine with a flicker of concern. "Are you sure you don’t want to run away?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
I shook my head, a small, shaky smile tugging at my lips. "No, I don’t. I might have a wolf somewhere in me."
hope. Ariel’s brow furrowed. "But... but
didn’t need to finish. Her
hair back gently. "But it’s not over until it’s
you starting to feel any weird
so clever, too clever for a ten-year-old girl
replied quietly, the word bitter in my
too, a mirror of my
hair. "Well, you may not be a werewolf, but you do have
blinked. "Has it grown?"
breath caught. The mess Natasha had chopped into my hair weeks ago had somehow softened. The
fingers as she hummed
the door burst
in the doorway like the villain she truly was. Her presence infected the room with tension. She looked down at Ariel with thinly veiled disgust, her
a word, Ariel rose and scurried out of the room. She knew the drill. She knew her mother. I stayed
owned the world, her eyes scanning my tiny room with irritation as if the mere
she said with a
wrinkled as she sniffed the air, and then her
didn’t answer. My silence
given you till sundown to shift. Or else..." Her voice trailed off into another giggle. "At least
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