Chapter 1 - Yvonne
Sunrise.
Not like the one in the sky that comes up to shed light on the day, taking the dreary coldness of the Alaskan air and turning it into something pleasant, warm, and inviting as the natural yellow rays kiss one’s cheek.
There’s nothing “yellow” or “hopeful” about this place, except that I found refuge in the small village of Sunrise, hidden in the valley on the west side of Sixmile Creek.
A little insignificant village that caters strictly to its people, the residents of Sunrise are a fleet of werewolves who’ve been cast away from the packs they were born into. Rogues with nowhere else to go, no other option but to stick to the humiliating conditions provided by the pack—a pack made from degenerates, outcasts, where the bullied become the bullies.
Hurt people hurt people, right?
It's not justifiable, but it's just how it goes around here, stripping Sunrise of its sunny disposition.
With trembling fingers gripping my thighs, I sink to my knees and feel the cold, moist snow envelop my ankles as if to shackle me. My eyes narrow as I stare blankly ahead, trying to find a reason to keep tolerating the harsh conditions of Sunrise or accept the abuse from the rogue werewolf members of the Moonshine Pack.
Pressing my palms against the tattered denim material hugging my thighs, torn from years of wear that were made worse by this morning’s incident, there’s only a small flicker of consolation that comes from being forced to find refuge amongst a reckless pack of misfits out here in Sunrise. Five years ago, Ihad no choice when I was helpless, finding myself crossing the small town of Hope and feeling as hopeless as ever, with I had no idea where I was going or why.
When I stumbled on a few rogue-looking werewolves in the outlying area of Sunrise, I’d shifted into human form and begged them to spare my life with the promise that I’d offer the services of my hands in exchange for a place to sleep.
Little did I know that the thatched-roof hut on the outskirts of Sunrise would carry such a heavy price in exchange for a place to rest my head at night, so I wouldn’t be considered a lone, rogue werewolf with no place to call home. Five years ago, I was vulnerable, and the small village of Sunrise was my only hope, even if it was far from being full of sunshine and rainbows.
The price of joining the Moonshine Pack?
I have to keep fending off the males in the pack who think I’m free game simply because I’m single. In five years, I’ve only shown them that I have no romantic interest in any one of them, but the brutish males of a rogue pack don’t have the moral compass required to respect a she-wolf. I’m always the target of their foul, indiscreet intentions, and they make it known that a single she-wolf at the bottom of the pack’s hierarchy has no say in the matter.
It doesn’t mean I haven’t fought for my rights as an individual; though I might be an omega forced to leave the pack she was born into, it gives them no right to force themselves on me. Down by the river this morning, when I was out washing my clothes, I did exactly that—I fought Sam when he tried to come on to me.
I didn’t get away without a few bruises and scratches and more tears in my tattered jeans, but at least I was able to getaway and get back to my hut on the outskirts of the village, left lamenting whether I could face more abuse.
Now, I somehow snap out of my daze and the dreams of living a better life, and my hut comes back into focus to remind me that I have no other option. If I did, I wouldn’t have suffered through the last five years of my life, and that’s what leads me to get back to my feet and take a staggered breath to steady my nerves before heading back to the hut, covered by fine wisps and sprinkles of the light snowfall this morning.
As I trudge to my hut, my feet slowed by the icicles skittering past my ankles and slipping through my bare toes, I push aside the memories of this morning that come as horrifying flashbacks of terror, threatening to suck me into a vortex of self-loathing and resentment for Sam, the pack’s supposed beta. Having grown up in an esteemed pack that consisted of not one, but four alphas who worked together to ensure that things ran smoothly in their pack, the Moonshine Pack is hardly palatable when their higher-ranking wolves aren’t honorable members of the village, objectifying the she-wolves instead of protecting them.
It’s a barbaric life that I’m forced to live, but once I’m between the clay walls of the hut, I find that I can let out a tiny sigh of relief, which does little to calm me, but gives me the courage to go about my day. Sam’s attempt to rip my clothes off is too obvious, and I need to change out of these clothes and into something modest enough to make me forget about his violation.
Once I’m in a long frock of large, overflowing layers that makes me appear at least my size and unappealing, I feel safe enough to brave the greenhouse outside my hut, where an abundance of vegetables and other plants grow thanks to my green thumbs.
These fingers have kept me going in the Moonshine Pack since I offered to grow and harvest crops that would feed the community. My cooking skills are what have been keeping me alive, safe from the woes of the human world, even if I’m not safe from the scoundrels of the pack. The invaluable skill of cooking the finest meals from minuscule ingredients had been lacking, and it was my ticket into the pack.
With a woven grass basket tucked beneath one arm, I make my way to the greenhouse that keeps the crops protected from the snow to ensure they're safe from frostbite. The bell on the inside of the door dings when I open it, and while it's only a safety measure to alert me of any intruders trying to pilfer the crops I've worked hard to grow, right now, it's another snap back to reality.
I have to prepare dinner for the pack. Tonight’s menu consists of strictly vegetables to ensure that the wolves have enough room for their weekly hunt down in the forest after dinner. The vegetable dish is meant to accompany the rich meat they’ll feast on in the woods.
That's probably why the males are acting up again. They're low on fuel and need to replenish with a fresh hunt of mountain goats. It's the only way to quell their aggression and get them off my back.
Busying myself with plucking fresh tomatoes from the tamarillo, I notice the way my fingers tremble around the fruit, and I pause to take a deep breath. I shouldn't be this weak or fragile, and I need to come back to my reason for enduring my situation.
I close my eyes and allow my mind to wander to that reason until an image of the sweetest smiling face manifests behind my eyelids. A wave of relieved recognition washes overme, soothing my nerves and igniting the fire of determination within me.
A warm smile suddenly grows on my face, dissipating the unease that was keeping me bound to the hatred I have for this pack. With my resolve reignited, I open my eyes and scan the little greenhouse that keeps my vegetation protected, and I settle on a few ingredients for today's vegetable stew. Luckily, my fingers aren’t trembling the way they were, and it’s all thanks to the pair of eyes that I saw smiling at me when I closed my own.
That pair of silver eyes with a hopeful glint is the only thing that keeps me going and makes being amidst the greenery worthwhile as I pick the vegetables needed for today’s meal. A long time ago, I enjoyed frolicking between the trees and plants, always feeling drawn to nature, thanks to my heritage. But when life threw me in the deep end of distortion, I was forced to turn a passion into a form of paying for a place of refuge.
What choice did I have?
It’s only a flicker of that delightful passion I once experienced that comes through now to fuel my resolve. Besides, I can imagine how broad that particular smile will be when he finds out that I’m making his favorite vegetable dish tonight.
Even though he’s a werewolf, he does enjoy a hearty, rich vegetable stew. And since he’s the only male I’ll ever willingly seek to please, it’s his joy and delight that I foresee that has me humming a lilting tune between puckered lips as I gather the rest of what is needed tonight.
