The Rejected Wolf They'll Regret Losing

I endured three years in the Blackmoor Pack. My brother made me bark like a dog. My fiancé threw me to his new favorite like a toy. My father whipped me and called it discipline. My mother made me write confessions in my own blood. They thought I'd always be there — kneeling, crawling, taking it. Then I died on a board of rusty nails, and no one noticed for three days. But the Moon Goddess kept count. Every scar. Every tear. Every betrayal. Now, when the sun sets, it's their turn to scream.