Chapter 1
708words
Villagers scatter as the beasts close in.
I press against a wall in an alley, heart hammering.
Windows slam shut. Doors bolt. Lights extinguish. Everyone knows to hide when werewolves hunt for servants.
Everyone except me. I'm still outside with groceries my stepmother sent me for just before sunset. The timing wasn't accidental.
A child screams from the playground ahead.
Three werewolves surround a small boy beneath a slide, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
"This one's small, but he'll grow," one says, reaching for the sobbing child.
"Please," the boy whimpers. "I want my mommy."
I should run. But I can't let them hurt a child.
I grip my small knife and step forward. "Leave him alone."
The werewolves turn. The tallest one grins, showing sharp teeth.
"Look what we have here," he says, moving toward me. "A volunteer."
"I said leave him alone." My voice shakes.
The werewolf laughs. "Or what, little human?"
A voice like steel cuts through the darkness. "Stand down."
"We don't take children," he says, his amber eyes flashing. "That's not our way."
"But the quota—" one protests.
"Will be met elsewhere." He cuts him off. "Let the child go."
The werewolves back away. I edge forward.
"Come here," I say softly to the child.
The boy runs to me, clinging to my leg. I place myself between him and the werewolves, knife now visible.
The leader studies me. "A human with courage."
One subordinate lunges. I slash wildly. The leader intercepts, my blade catching his arm instead.
He hisses, grabbing the wound. Blood seeps between his fingers, and shock registers on his face.
I grab the child and run to my house.
"Freya?" My stepmother appears, her eyes narrowing, then widening at the child. "What is this?"
"Werewolves," I say. "They were trying to take him."
"And you brought him here? Putting us all in danger?"
My father looks up angrily. "Have you forgotten how your mother died? You got her killed, and now you want to get us killed too?"
I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Fifteen years ago, my mother was mauled to death by werewolves while protecting me.
"I don't want to watch anyone else die in front of me," I say.
My stepsister Melissa descends the stairs. "Always playing the hero, aren't you? You've probably led them straight to us."
"I lost them," I insist.
My stepmother sighs. "Take him to the community center in the morning. And where are the groceries I sent you for?"
I realize I dropped the bag during my escape. "I—"
"Typical," she cuts me off. "Can't even complete a simple errand."
A sharp knock at the door silences us all. Three heavy knocks that shake the house.
The door bursts open. Four figures fill the doorway—the same four from the park. The leader's arm still bleeds where my knife struck.
My father rises, face pale. "What is the meaning of this?"
The leader steps forward, looking at me. "I need to take her with me."
My stepmother's face shows relief. "Take her. Please, don't hurt us."
"Yes, take Freya," Melissa adds eagerly. "She knows how to serve."
The leader's eyes flash dangerously. "Is that so?"
I find my voice. "The boy stays here. He goes home tomorrow."
The leader nods. "The child stays. As intended."
My stepmother steps forward. "If you're taking her, we should be compensated. She's been expensive to raise."
"You think you deserve payment?" He smiles coldly and gestures to one of his companions, who grabs Melissa.
"What are you doing?" she shrieks. "Mother!"
"You've convinced me," he says. "I'll take both of them."
My stepmother pales. "No! Not my daughter!"
"You think you're in a position to negotiate with me?"
When Melissa continues struggling, his companion slaps her silent.
He turns to me. "Gather what you need. You're coming with me."
As I climb the stairs, my family begs for Melissa's return while never mentioning me. Their voices make it painfully clear: she is family, I am not.
"If you don't want me to take you all, shut your mouths," the leader growls below.
I enter my small room, hands trembling. Deep down, I always knew this day would come.
