The day my mother left the pack with her new mate, I clung to her sleeve, crying as we walked from one end of the territory to the other.

But she yanked her arm free and gave me a cold look. "Our bond as mother and daughter is over. From now on, call me 'Auntie' if we meet again."

My father had long abandoned the pack, and the council had approved her remarriage on the condition that she exchanged our last plot of fertile land and the pack house for it.

I had no clothes to wear, no food to eat. It was my step-grandmother, whom my mother had driven away years ago, who found me in the abandoned den. "Child," she said, "come with me."

---

That day, my voice was hoarse from crying, but my mother still rode away in the truck decorated with red ribbons, never looking back.

My brother, hearing my cries, turned to look at me curiously, but my mother sharply forced his head back around.

The pack members whispered that my mother was heartless, but that didn’t stop the council from sending someone to take over our house.

After all, as a female, I had no claim to inherit anything under pack law.

A kind-hearted pack member suggested that my uncle, who had taken over the house, should take me in, but his mate just hurled a bucket of water at her and snapped, "Not a chance."

I was left with no choice but to move to the pack’s abandoned den, in exchange for thirty pounds of cornmeal.

The day my step-grandmother came for me was the first snowfall of winter. By then, the cornmeal was long gone, and I had been surviving on wild herbs from the forest.

She and my grandfather had been a second mating for both—a widow and a widower, each with their own pups. We had no blood relation, and I’d only known her briefly before I was four or five.

I still remembered the first red ribbon I ever owned—she had bought it for me.

But after my grandfather passed, my mother had schemed to drive her out and take everything for herself. Even I had said cruel things to her back then.

In the end, she had no choice but to leave with her mated daughter.

Now, seeing her again, she looked much the same as I remembered, just a bit older, but still full of life.

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes reddening. "You have your grandfather’s eyes."

I trembled, huddled in the corner of the den, too afraid to speak.

She didn’t seem to mind. She stepped forward and took my frostbitten hand. "Come, child. Let’s go home."

Home? Did I still have a home?

But at that moment, her words felt like a lifeline. I nodded through my tears, thinking that at least I wouldn’t freeze to death alone in the night.

Her home was in the neighboring pack territory, across a mountain.

The snow fell and melted as we walked, leaving us both caked in mud by the time we arrived.

I clutched my tattered bundle of belongings, hiding behind her as we entered the clean, well-kept yard. I stared at the black footprints I left behind, too afraid to take another step.

A sharp-looking woman stepped out of the house. I knew this was her daughter—my aunt. She had already mated by the time I was born, so I had never met her before.

She heard my greeting, but only frowned at me. I shrank under her gaze, nervously twisting the hem of my ragged clothes, terrified she might send me away.

But finally, she sighed and shook her head. "Come inside. You’re not a statue, standing there blocking the door."

My step-grandmother grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. "That’s my girl. I’m proud of you."

My aunt muttered under her breath, but there was no real anger in her tone. "Don’t underestimate me, Mom. Dad raised me for a time. I’ll honor that by taking her in."

My heart finally settled.

Hot water was already prepared, and my aunt had borrowed a set of clean clothes for me. I soaked in the tub, washing away the grime and tears of the past months.

As I cried silently, I promised myself I would work hard and repay their kindness.

---

As a pup, I knew I had been sent by my father to be raised by his second mate.

She was kind to me, but I always wondered how much of that kindness was for her own status in the pack.

I had secretly seen how my real mother treated my older brother—with such warmth and affection.

I envied him.

So when my father’s second mate passed away, and he sent me back to my real mother, I was overjoyed.

But she despised me.

And my father forgot about me.

I wasn’t an orphan, but I might as well have been.

After I finished washing up and returned to the living room, Aunt Willa was setting the table. Seeing her, I hurried over to help.

She looked me over carefully, her praise flowing freely. "Look at you, little one. You’ve grown quite beautifully."

"That’s right," Grandma chimed in as she served the mashed potatoes. "Just look at her grandfather. He was the handsomest man in the pack."

My grandfather and father were known throughout the pack for their good looks. Without that, my mother, with her pride, would never have married down.

As we joked, Uncle Wayne came home. He carried a hunting bag on his back and greeted me with a simple, warm smile.

Though an orphan, he had made a decent living through his skills as a hunter, accumulating several acres of fertile land. Their family was relatively well-off in the pack. However, with two sons studying in the city, they lived frugally. Advancing in education required a lot of money.

During dinner, I kept my head down, eating only the salad in front of me. Aunt Willa noticed and used her fork to scoop out the crispy bacon bits from the stir-fried vegetables, placing them on my plate. "You’re too thin. Tomorrow, I’ll cook a chicken to fatten you up."

Grandma nodded in agreement. "Indeed, you’re too skinny. You’re twelve this year, right? You’re probably shorter than Mia next door."

Uncle Wayne chimed in, "Fish helps with growth. I’ll go fishing tomorrow and try to catch some."

Aunt Willa rolled her eyes. "You? Out of ten tries, you’re lucky if you bring back one fish."

Listening to them, I shoveled the mashed potatoes mixed with bacon bits into my mouth, tears welling up in my eyes. Since my father’s death, my mother’s attention had been entirely on my brother. Food and clothes always went to him first, while I was left with endless chores.

Never before had a conversation revolved entirely around me.

Seeing I’d finished my plate quickly, Aunt Willa refilled it, and I ate my first full meal in weeks.

That night, I slept with Grandma. The blanket was soft and warm, and I fell asleep quickly. Perhaps because it was an unfamiliar place, I stirred in my sleep. Grandma noticed and gently patted my back until I drifted off again.

When I woke up, the sun was already high, and Grandma was no longer beside me. I hurriedly got up and dressed.

In the yard, Uncle Wayne was preparing his fishing gear. He smiled warmly at me. "Avery, you’re up early. There’s no rush. Go back to sleep."

Early? Back home, I would’ve already finished washing clothes and gathering feed by this hour.

"Uncle Wayne, where are Grandma and Aunt Willa?"

"One’s by the river cleaning the chicken, and the other went to buy fabric to make you some clothes."

Seeing me standing there awkwardly, he pointed to the kitchen. "There’s food in the pot. Go eat. I’ll catch some fish for you later."

After a quick wash, I went to the kitchen. Under the lid of the pot was a full bowl of oatmeal and half a bowl of leftover bacon bits from last night. Judging by the portion, they hadn’t touched it.

I held the bowl and ate hungrily, tears falling into the oatmeal.

No beatings, no curses. This life—it felt so good.

After tidying the kitchen and sweeping the yard, two young men in casual clothes pushed open the gate.

Seeing me, they paused. "Who are you?"

I knew these were Aunt Willa’s sons, my cousins.

Before I could explain myself, Grandma returned. She carried a shopping bag and was overjoyed to see her grandsons. Her loud voice carried across the yard. "Why are you back so early this month? Come, meet your cousin Avery."

After Grandma’s introduction, my older cousin, Koen, nodded slightly to me. "Avery, it’s good to meet you."

I quickly stepped aside to avoid the gesture.

He was four years older than me, his demeanor calm and elegant, like a tall pine tree. He had already passed the pack’s leadership trials and was just one step away from becoming a Beta. He was the pride of Aunt Willa’s family.

My younger cousin, Lennox, was closer to my age and seemed much more lively.

Seeing that they didn’t seem bothered by my presence, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The return of her sons filled Aunt Willa with joy. She moved with a spring in her step and quickly went out to buy another pound of bacon.

---

Years later, after spending time at the border, I returned to the pack’s territory, but everything felt unfamiliar.

My mother still didn’t care for me, and even my mate had been someone my brother had discarded.

When I was falsely accused of having an affair with a pack attendant, I hoped she would speak up for me.

But she only looked at me with disgust and urged my father to punish me severely.

I knew the real culprit was my brother.

But so be it. I considered it repayment for the debt of life she gave me. From that moment on, I swore my child would never suffer as I had, unloved by both parents.

I would give them all the beauty the world had to offer.

While my father had many mates, I wished to be like Gamma Ryan from the borderlands—devoted to one person for life.