“What’cha thinking about?” Sorrel asked.

  I smiled at him. “How I beat you in the race.”

  He growled playfully. “I’m gonna win next time!”

  “Maybe if you try really hard. And stop stumbling over your paws,” I teased.

  Sorrel pouted, raising one of his giant paws. “I can’t help that they’re so big.”

  He was only two years younger than me and he still had a young wolf’s face, but his body was growing fast. I figured it would only be a few months before he towered over his older brother. Apparently, our omega father was a huge white wolf, one of the biggest the clan had ever seen. Sorrel must’ve taken after him.

  “Besides, it’s a good thing, right?” Sorrel asked eagerly. “I have a better chance of being a child-bearer when I grow up.”

  My stomach sank. It was the highest honor for an omega in our clan, but he was too young to be thinking about that.

  “Focus on being a pup,” I said, pawing him over the ear. “You’ll have plenty of time for that when you’re an adult.”

  Sorrel huffed. “But it’s the best thing an omega can do! I don’t wanna be useless.”

  The fur on my shoulders bristled with unease. I couldn’t argue with him because he wasn’t wrong. Child-bearing omegas were handpicked by the clan alpha, and had special privileges. They got to sleep in nicer rooms, ate better food, and were treated better overall. Not as well as the alphas themselves, but well above the omegas stuck doing basic chores.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the discomfort that came from Sorrel’s excitement. I didn’t want him to think that was his only purpose in life.

  “You will never be useless, Sorrel,” I said gently. “Because you’re my little brother.”

  He gave me a shy smile before breaking into a laugh. “That’s so sappy!”

  “It’s true!” I insisted.

  Chuckling, he got to his paws and flicked me with his tail. “C’mon, let’s race again. I’ll beat you to that rock down there, I swear.”

  Changing the topic was a relief. I got to my paws and nodded. Sorrel barrelled down the slope, racing for the conspicuous rock in the middle of the field.

  I followed him at a steady pace, but my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. It sat in my stomach like a stone.

  Overhead, a white blur of movement caught my eye. I raised my muzzle to see a snowy owl flying silently above us. It glided effortlessly through the air on smooth, elegant wings.

  My chest ached. If I could fly like that, I could be free, too.

  I slowed to watch the owl. Its head angled sharply, as if hearing something out of range for my ears. Suddenly, it folded its wings and dove with claws outstretched. It hit the ground near the rock like lightning. I heard a high-pitched squeak that cut off abruptly. When the owl lifted its head, a mouse dangled from its beak.

  Despite the mouse’s sacrifice, I felt happy for the owl. It was a large bird—likely a female with eggs on the way. She was doing what any good parent would do.

  My chest stirred. I couldn’t put my paw on the feeling swirling inside me. Why did I feel so peaceful and happy thinking about the owl and her soon-to-be-chicks, yet such dread at the idea of Sorrel growing up to be a child-bearer for Konrad?

  In front of me, Sorrel skidded to a halt, also awed by the sight. “Whoa,” he whispered as I caught up with him. “Did you see that, Poppy?”

  “I did,” I said quietly. “It’s amazing.”

  We watched, mesmerized as the mother owl secured her kill before preparing for takeoff. But soon my tranquility turned to apprehension. A chill rolled down my spine, and the fur on my shoulders lifted uncomfortably. It felt like we were being watched. Our little moment of peace was over.

  I didn’t move, but flicked my ears back. Sure enough, I heard the familiar heavy thud of someone approaching. Before I turned around to confirm their identity, anxiety had already soaked my insides. Those heavy steps could only belong to a polar bear.

  Unable to take the suspense, I glanced over my shoulder. My anxiety quelled slightly. It was Rorik, another omega around my age. He was a polar bear shifter, and the largest omega in the clan. I’d mistaken his heavy approach as belonging to our clan alpha, Konrad. Although I was relieved to see him instead, I wished Sorrel and I could’ve had a few more moments alone.

  “Poppy,” Rorik greeted with a nod. “We’re far from camp. What are you two doing out here?”

  “I got permission,” I said swiftly. “Konrad said it was okay.”

  Rorik seemed surprised, but didn’t press further. He watched the owl for a couple seconds, then said, “He sent me to retrieve you. We should return soon.”

  “I’ll go back,” I said, trying not to sound defeated. “I just want to sit here for another minute or two.”

  Rorik grunted in affirmation. After a moment, he said, “That owl would make a good offering to Konrad.”

  A rush of panic flowed through me. “She’s a mother,” I pointed out.

  Rorik’s eyes widened, flashing with regret. He clearly didn’t know. “Ah. How can you tell?”

  “She’s big. Female snowy owls are larger than males. She’s probably getting ready to lay eggs come spring.”

  Rorik let out a small chuckle. “You are wise, wolf.”

  His compliment soothed me. I relaxed, letting myself enjoy his company. Rorik was big and strong, but beneath his tough exterior, he had a kind heart.

  “Offerings! That’s a good idea, Rorik. I’m gonna hunt for voles,” Sorrel exclaimed, bounding away to sniff at the ground nearby. He stayed close enough that I could keep an eye on him.

  Rorik lowered his head to speak quietly in my ear. “It’s almost time for our duty assignments. Are you ready?”

  The invisible weight on my shoulders grew heavier. I couldn’t escape this topic—or my fate.

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Are you?”

  “Yes. I assume I’ll be trained as a fighter. I’d be shocked if they assigned me anything else.”

  My ears drooped. Rorik was so confident, ready to face any challenges in his path. Why couldn’t I be more like him? Why did I feel so nervous all the time?

  “You’ll be a great fighter,” I murmured.

  Rorik watched me, his small black eyes bright, then asked, “What concerns you?”

  I sighed. I couldn’t reveal the full depth of my feelings, but an inkling was acceptable.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I admitted.

  But that wasn’t quite true. I wanted more. I wanted something different than what the tundra clan offered. The world was massive and scary, and the thought of stepping a paw outside my bounds terrified me, but it also inspired possibilities beyond my imagination. What if there was something better out there?

  That was too much to dump on Rorik, though. I doubted he’d understand my feelings—or worse, he might even tell the clan alphas about them, and they wouldn’t appreciate my curiosity.

  “Everything will be all right,” Rorik said. “Don’t worry so much.”

  Although I couldn’t take it to heart, I appreciated his attempt to comfort me. It made me feel slightly less alone.

  “Thanks, Rorik,” I said. “I—”

  “Poppy.”

  Konrad’s voice sent a cold chill across my pelt. I leapt to all four paws, spinning around to see him towering over us on the hill’s peak. He was an absolutely massive polar bear. Unlike Rorik, he had maturity on his side. Konrad was filled out, all fat and muscle and raw strength, the most powerful creature in our clan.

  “Y-yes, sir?” I said.

  His black, beady eyes stared at me. They were hard and angry. But a second later, he chuckled. “I gave you an inch and you took a mile. You sure went out a long way from camp.”

  Hot guilt prickled my skin. Had I done something wrong? I’d already received his explicit permission to explore. I wouldn’t dare leave the camp without it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing how to respond.

  Konrad took his time as he loped down the hill. With every step, the anxiety swirling in my chest tightened. I didn’t know why, but it wouldn’t go away.

  Rorik stood to greet him. Having a friend beside me was a minor comfort. I was glad not to be alone with our clan alpha.

  Why do I feel like this? I didn’t used to be so nervous around him...

  Konrad greeted Rorik with a glance and nothing more, then turned his focus on me. I tried to stand tall, but my body wanted to shrink beneath his gaze.

  “Next time I might not be so lenient,” Konrad said casually, like I’d done something wrong. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.”

  My throat constricted. There was no pleading my case when Konrad had already decided I was the one at fault.

  “We’ll come back now,” I promised.

  “I know,” Konrad replied. He turned his boxy muzzle in Sorrel’s direction, his gaze hard and unyielding.

  My stomach shifted. There was something disconcerting in Konrad’s eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

  As I mulled over my stormy thoughts, Sorrel bounded into view. A vole dangled by its tail between his teeth. He wagged his tail, thrusting his catch towards Konrad.

  “Here! I caught this for you, sir,” Sorrel said.

  Konrad gave him an approving look. “Good work, pup. But a vole is too small to feed a clan, isn’t it?”

  Sorrel’s ears flicked back, disappointed. “Oh. Yes, you’re right.”

  Eyes sharp, Konrad glanced up at the snowy owl still picking at her prey on the ground. She was occupied and didn’t seem to notice us.

  “Now, an owl would make a fine meal,” Konrad said, licking his lips.

  Panic drenched me. I whipped my head towards him. My shock outweighed my sense, and I blurted out, “Sir, she’s a mother about to lay eggs.”

  Konrad was unfazed. “And I am a clan alpha who needs to feed his omegas. Am I not?”

  The words chilled me. Once again, I was stuck, unable to argue my position. What he said wasn’t wrong, but it felt wrong.

  “If you really want to impress me, Sorrel,” Konrad said, smiling at him, “why don’t you give it a try?”

  Sorrel’s ears perked up. The clan alpha’s offer was obviously tempting.

  I said nothing, but I stewed on the inside. I couldn’t question Konrad’s authority, yet I wanted Sorrel to refuse. When he caught my gaze, I returned a severe, pleading look, hoping he’d understand.

  My fears from earlier flooded back in full force. Sorrel wanted Konrad’s attention. My sweet little brother only wanted to be useful, but he wasn’t even old enough for his duty assignment. It would be years before he needed to worry about that.

  And I didn’t like the way Konrad smiled at Sorrel.

  “I’ll do it,” I offered, turning towards the bird. “I’ll hunt the owl.”

  Sorrel blinked. “But I—”

  “You’re still clumsy on your paws. You can’t do it,” I argued.

  Konrad chuckled as Sorrel pouted. I noticed the subtle surprise in Rorik’s expression. He must’ve been confused by my words because of our earlier chat.

  But I had no intention of actually catching the owl. I wanted her to fly free, away from this place. At least she could leave.

  “All right, Poppy,” Konrad said, relaxing on his haunches. “Go ahead. I’ll watch you hunt. Who knows? Maybe this will determine your duty placement.”

  I steeled my nerves. To avoid drawing suspicion, I had to act natural. I crouched low to the ground, my belly fur brushing the snow as I tiptoed towards the grounded owl. Every fiber of my being wished for her to be alert, to notice me and fly off before I got near. I felt guilty on her behalf, as if I’d roped her into this situation.

  I inched closer. My heart pounded. Soon I’d be in pouncing distance.

  My ear flicked backward. Someone was running towards me.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Sorrel leap at the owl. But he was loud and inexperienced, and his thudding paws alerted the owl well in advance. She launched into the air, safely out of Sorrel’s reach, and flew into the horizon.

  Relief hit me, but it was tainted with soul-sucking disappointment.

  “Darn!” Sorrel cried. “I almost caught it.”

  “What are you doing?” I muttered quickly under my breath.

  Sorrel looked confused. “Huh? Konrad wanted me to—”

  “It’s wrong.” Why didn’t he understand that? “You shouldn’t do everything he says.”

  He blinked innocently. “Why not? He’s the clan alpha.”

  The fact that Sorrel stood up for Konrad terrified me. My own brother felt distant, like he was drifting away on an ice floe I couldn’t reach. Wasn’t there anything I could do?

  I wanted to keep talking, try to persuade him, but our few seconds of privacy ended fast. Konrad sauntered up to us with Rorik close behind him. The omega bear had a stoic expression. I couldn’t tell how he felt about all this, which only intensified my loneliness. The chasm between me and the others was growing deeper and darker.

  “Nice try, Sorrel,” Konrad said. He patted him on the shoulder with a massive paw, making my brother sway on his clumsy feet.

  Sorrel beamed at his praise. “Thanks! I won’t lose it next time, I promise.”

  Konrad nodded. “You’re turning into a fine wolf. We need eager omegas like you in our clan.”

  Sorrel’s tail wagged. Meanwhile, mine was tucked limply against my body. The earth beneath my paws seemed unstable and unwelcoming.

  I was scared.

  “Poppy? Are you okay?” Taylor asked, brow furrowed in sympathy.

  I breathed out long and hard. “Sorry, I think... I need to take a break.”

  Nodding, Taylor rubbed my back. His touch grounded me in the present. I needed to remember where—and when—I was.

  “Sure. Let’s stop there for now,” Taylor said gently.

  Alaric rose from the loveseat. His expression was more serious than before. “It’s late, anyway. You should rest.” He paused. “Will you be okay by yourself tonight?”

  I nodded, although part of me wanted to accept his subtle offer to stay. But I’d taken up hours of their time with my long-winded tale. I couldn’t burden them more than I already had.

  I forced a smile. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay, I promise.”

  “If you say so,” Alaric conceded.

  Taylor didn’t seem convinced, but he respected my wishes. He gave me a quick hug goodbye, then the pair left my room.

  When I was alone, I took a long inhale and released it. I was exhausted. Dredging up the past was hard. Harder than I anticipated. I hoped I could maintain the courage to tell the rest of the story another time.

  I closed my eyes and sank my head against the luxuriously soft pillow. Within seconds, fatigue caught up with me, and I fell into a hazy slumber.

  5

  Viol

  I couldn’t fucking sleep.

  My thoughts wouldn’t calm the hell down and turn off, so I tossed and turned uselessly. All it did was agitate me. If I was the kind of guy who drank, I’d drink myself into a stupor, but I knew that’d only make me feel more like shit.

  Finally, I threw off my blanket and stormed to the window. Hours had passed, but I was wide awake, same as when I crawled into bed.

  I stared out across the island with bleary eyes. What was going to happen in the morning? What fuckery had Jade planned? If his scheme was to push Poppy and I together, he was shit out of luck. I’d already screwed up my first interaction with him. Hell, I’d screwed up a lot. It wasn’t going to get better.

  Melancholy twisted my chest so hard it was physically painful. I leaned my elbow against the window, bracing my forehead against it.

  This sucked.

  I couldn’t walk up to Jade and order him to send Poppy home. He was already here, and worse, we’d already spoken. It would be hurtful and rude to turn him around as soon as he got here.

  But what was the alternative? Let him stay, get his hopes up for nothing? I couldn’t do anything for him. I couldn’t be there for him. I’d already proved that over and over.

  I gritted my teeth. Growling, I pushed away from the window, walking in irritated circles like a caged animal. I despised feeling powerless.

  Maybe in the morning I’d make one last-ditch effort. I’d plead my case to Jade and beg him to send Poppy home. Or at least make it so that I didn’t have to talk to him. Hell, I’d compromise. Poppy could stay on the island for as long as he damn well wanted. It was probably better than whatever shithole human apartment he was living in.

  I just wouldn’t look at him.

  Or speak to him.

  Or acknowledge his existence.

  Maybe then he’d forget about me and move on with his life like I desperately wanted him to.

  A snarl of frustration escaped me. I fell backwards onto the bed with a thump, then stared angrily at the ceiling.

  Poppy had felt distant when I helped him to his room. He seemed wary, like he was afraid to get too close. After what I’d done, I didn’t fucking blame him. I was dangerous. It was for the best that he stood far apart from me.

  Unless it was all in my head.

  Was I overreacting, or underreacting? Was I crazy? I felt crazy. The difference between reality and imagined bullshit in my brain blurred together, distorting my perception.

  I dragged my fingers across my eyes. Every part of my body ached with exhaustion. I wanted to pass out and be unconscious for a damned good while. But as the minutes crawled by, I saw the brightening tint of the sky.

  Today was going to be a long fucking day.

  In my dream, I stared at Cobalt’s door.

  It seemed unusually large. But I wasn’t afraid. Cobalt was always so kind. And besides, I had my buddy clutched in my hand.

  I pushed my shoulders back and took a deep breath, fired up with determination.