I had always lived in the warehouse—the smallest, dampest, darkest corner they could spare. There were only old clothes inside, and even those were just hand-me-downs no one else wanted. Elsa’s dressing room was three times the size of mine. Everything she no longer wanted ended up in my room—like I was nothing more than a dumping ground.
When I finished packing, my phone rang. It was the tomb keeper.
“Hello, Jennifer. You asked me to reserve the grave you picked, remember? If you come by with the silver coins soon and book it, I’ll keep it for you. Otherwise, someone else might take it.”
I chose a grave just a week ago.
It was quiet, wrapped in moonflowers and white roses—the kind of peace my wolf always dreamed of. She said she wanted to rest there, far away from this cruel, bitter world.
But now… her dream will never come true.
A pup like me, ignored by her own family—how could I possibly afford it?
My beta father wouldn’t even send a single healer when I was rotting from silver dust corrosion. What makes me think he’d give me a coin to buy my own grave?
I paused for a moment… then whispered, “I don’t need it anymore.”
My elder brother William came back just after I hung up the phone.
He walked over with a puzzled expression. “Grave? What are you talking about?”
For a moment, I thought—maybe, just maybe—he knew something. Maybe he cared.
But that illusion shattered the next second.
“What kind of game are you playing now, Jennifer?” he snapped. “I heard you stirred up the whole Werewolf Council—just to ruin Elsa’s shifting ritual?”
“Even I feel ashamed of you. You embarrassed our whole family.”
“Elsa cried her heart out, feeling guilty for your drama! You completely ruined her big day!”
“Do you even realize how important the first shift is for a werewolf?”
“If she hadn’t lost her real parents as a child, she wouldn’t have had to grow up in someone else’s home!”
“Why do you always cause trouble for her? Why can’t you just be kind to her for once?”
I stared at William’s furious face, feeling a lump rise in my throat so hard it choked me.
Wasn’t I the one always ignored? Always treated like an outsider in my own home?
Yes, Elsa’s shift mattered. But what about mine?
