Page 21 of The Ashpaw: Part One

The table erupted in laughter, ale spewing from lips as fists pounded the wood. The man slapped her hard between the shoulders, howling before dismissing her with a wave.

Pulse hammering, she retreated towards the kitchen, looking up only for a second to see Darion at the head table. He was watching her carefully, and when their eyes met, he nodded, and then he turned back towards the other alphas, deep in conversation.

Her wolf chirped in delight, but Fern ignored her, picking up the pace.

It wasn’t long until the hall cleared, the cycle beginning anew for lunch. And once that was over, it was time to set up for dinner.

The constant work made the day pass quickly, leaving her little time to dwell on her new circumstances.

Maybe that was the secret to not falling into a pit of despair so deep you could not get out of your cot.

Once it was finally the end of the night, and she’d just wiped down the last table, Fern felt a hand land softly on the small of her back.

With a yelp, she spun around, clutching the rag to her chest.

Jules, the guard who had taken her from Darion yesterday, took a step back, his hands up with a sheepish grin on his face. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to see how you were settling in.”

Fern managed her best smile. “It’s fine. I-I’m a little tired, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it all…”

The Ashpaw, back hunched and hair covering her face, skittered behind her with a broom in hand, heading towards the fireplace.

Jules ignored her completely, his eyes on Fern. “There’s a lot of wolfkin to take care of,” he replied. “But I hear you’ve made a good impression on the clan, and there’s already talk of petitioning.”

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering. “I told you not to worry about your small stature.”

A lump grew in her throat. “P-petition?”

She’d heard some of the Solvekh talking about that this morning, but had forgotten about it before she could ask what it meant.

“You’ll be out of the kitchens in no time,” Jules continued. “In fact…” He stepped even closer, wiping a stray strand of hair from her face. “I would like to petition for you myself. I’m young still, but I think the Alphas would consider me a good fit.”

Her wolf was ecstatic, but Jules may as well have been speaking a foreign tongue for how much she understood what he was talking about.

He took her hand next and flipped it over, his fingers gently running over her palm and sending pleasant shivers down her arm. Then he let her go, bowing slightly. “I’ll see you later, Fern.”

She watched him walk away, goosebumps spreading down both arms now, and turned towards the Ashpaw, the only other person in the hall. “What is petitioning?”

The Ashpaw looked up, but did not answer.

Chapter 7

Fern

Sleep evaded Fern that night, despite the aches and fatigue carving their way into her muscles to make a permanent home.

Everything was simply wrong—her bed was too lumpy, the blanket too thin and rough on her skin. She had no pillow, and tried to scrunch her dress from the day to make one, but someone had taken it for laundering and now her neck was cramped.

And the room… she felt exposed, all the open air and far away walls making her vulnerable. To what, she wasn’t sure, but the effect was keeping her too anxious to relax.

Back at home, most of her tips and earnings went into the family’s account, but the bit she was able to keep was almost all spent furnishing her small room. Even as a child, she’d preferred being cocooned in small spaces, wrapped in warmth and soft fabrics, while her shelves had all been filled with her “treasures”—rocks or minerals she’d found outside, or broken pieces of pottery she’d tried her hand at fixing.

But being here, stripped of all of it, was disorienting. There was a numbing, clawing feeling working its way from the outside in, making it difficult to breathe, and she wondered if it would ever ease.

And so, when the other women began to stir in the morning, so did she, rising well before Marin’s bell. She made her bed, splashed water on her face, and began another day, the sky still not touched by dawn’s early light.

“What’s petitioning?” she asked Hyde, following behind him and setting the knives and forks as she had yesterday.

“You don’t know?”