Page 116 of The Ashpaw: Part One

He is already ours. As is the brother. Darion needs us the most.

“All three?” she said, nearly choking on her own breath. “You mean you want three alphas?”

Her wolf thought. For now, she answered.

Fern slid off the bed, lowering the neckline of her dress as Serich had advised, and picked up the next book from Reinn, all about the Sabletail Clan. She needed to clear her mind from whatever nonsense her wolf was trying to fill it with, and went back to her bed to read.

Darion’s lineage went back hundreds of years, Fern was surprised to discover. Longer than the human king’s, whose family had taken over rule of the previous monarch only a few generations ago in a war she’d studied about in detail as a child and promptly forgotten once the exam was over.

The names and various battles on this side of the river bled together as her eyes grew heavier, and soon she fell asleep, the book a heavy comfort on her chest.

When she woke several hours later, the book was gone.

Not fallen off next to her on the bed or floor, but gone.

A small tray rested on her table, with only a hard chunk of cheese and a heel of stale bread.

She began to panic, wondering what else might have changed while she’d slept, but other than the book and scant meal, everything seemed to be in place.

Why hadn’t Adela woken her up?

And then she saw the folded up piece of parchment that had been slipped under her door, and she picked it up with trembling hands.

Apparently your alpha heard your needs are actually being met for once, and has put a stop to it. I’ll do what I can, sunbeam.

-R

She sat down on the floor before her shaking legs would make the decision for her.

Would it do her any good to cry? No.

And Fern thought she might, but a numbing sensation radiated from her chest towards her limbs instead, her tears protesting another appearance.

For if anything, she just felt foolish.

Of course Darion had realized she was too comfortable to submit. His “rare,” “precious” omega too looked after to want to apologize for defending herself.

He needed her desperate enough that she would finally admit her wrongdoing—refusing to obey.

And so he’d put her into semi-Ashpaw status once more. No one to speak to her, no one to touch her.

She stood apart. She did not join.

“I don’t think he wants us,” she said to her wolf, as she stood back up.

Her wolf did not reply.

She nibbled on the cheese and bread, finding the appetite she’d slowly gained back over the past few days had diminished once more, and then slunk back under the covers of her nest.

And as she burrowed into a particularly soft blanket, she reminded herself that it could always get worse, and quite often did.

Chapter 27

Fern

There were no more rocks, and so Fern could no longer count the days.

She could not even count the meals, for they came with alarming irregularity. Sometimes she’d receive several within a few hours of each other, while other times she was sure it had almost been a whole day since the last.