Page 42 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Squinting, she came closer, when suddenly someone grabbed her from behind, a hand slapping over her mouth before she could make a noise.

Another shadow stepped in front of her, and her eyes widened in shock. It was the woman who’d spat at her earlier, the one Harland had rejected.

“I’d let you scream if I could—no one would bother to come to your aid, after all.”

She reeled back, then punched Fern hard in the stomach.

Gasping, her lungs seized, and the food she’d just eaten threatened to come up.

“But I don’t want to wake anyone with your nonsense.”

Then she went straight for her blanket.

“N—”

She couldn’t speak, the hand clasping back over her.

They couldn’t…

With a cruel smile, she let it unroll from her raised hands, her little treasures clattering on the floor. “What a little pack rat you are, Ashpaw. Collecting garbage. Is that because you’re garbage, too?”

Tears flooded her eyes, and she shook her head with a whimper.

Was she really that cross that Harland had rejected her? For why else would she have this much hate in her heart for Fern already?

“What a filthy little liar you are, Ashpaw. No wonder Alpha Darion thinks you’re useless. Weak.”

She lifted her foot and stomped on the little ceramic shard, shattering it into dust.

“A failure.”

Then she scooped up the rest and dragged Fern with her towards the fire, where she threw everything, blanket and all, into the dying flames.

Her muffled cries woke those nearby, and sleepy voices hissed for silence before the room settled again.

“And if you think for one moment I’ll ever let you rise above this, you’re dead wrong.”

The woman behind her released her, just so the other one could slap her across the face.

She fell sideways, twisting to hit the floor on her knees. She cried out in pain, and then a knee was slammed into her gut, bringing her all the way down.

Feet stomped, kicked, and ground into her, until finally they grew tired, and Fern had stopped feeling it entirely.

She closed her eyes, and sank into the darkness of her mind.

A cold, wet nose nudged her, whined, and then disappeared.

Chapter 12

Fern

“Breakfast in ten!”

She felt the blood crusted on her face as she woke the next morning, one eye nearly swollen shut.

Breathing hurt. Moving hurt.

Thinking hurt.