Chapter 3

“How was the pack house Layla?”

I pause in my eating to look at dad.

“Fine. The Luna liked my outfit.”

It wasn’t the Luna. I just couldn’t remember that other female’s name.

Dad smiles and nods, “I get a lot of comments about how cute you are.

Cute.

Adorable.

I sigh and nod, smiling at dad as he passes a dish over to me.

“So Hank, when are you leaving?”

We look at Hank now, directing the conversation to him.

He glances up and clears his throat, “Maybe tomorrow? I’m not really sure- but Larry says I can go and train for a few months there.”

“That’s nice of Larry to let you go with him to his training,” Dad mumbles.

Hank shrugs, “He sees I’m a good warrior. With luck I could be promoted to part of the Lead pack.”

Dad stares at Hank, a smile on his face as he looks at his son with pride. “I don’t see why Larry doesn’t make you his Beta.”

Hank blushes at this.
“Dad, you know the whole system is bull. The Alpha calls in favorites and picks someone they know- most of the time it’s the person whose father was the previous Beta.”

The comment has dad looking away. Now there is awkward silence at the table.

Hank’s eyes look at me.
Pleading.
“I painted a new picture today.”

Dad rips his eyes away from the window as he stares at me, “oh? How nice Layla.”

I see Hank do his silent groan. We don’t talk about my paintings. I should have known better.
It just makes me different. It just sets me apart from the pack even more.
An outcast.
The Luna just recently came to father- worried about me fitting in within the pack. Worried about my lack of training. Worried about shutting myself in.
After two weeks with the females, I liked the routine.
Liked the system that the Luna offered.
But I wouldn’t cry if it was taken away.
“So Hank,” dad turns back to Hank, his sadness gone as he is reminded that he has a star child compared to me. Reminded that not all hope is lost. “If you’re there, how will you find your mate?”

Hank laughs at that.
“She’ll come eventually dad. I just want her to be proud of what she finds.”

His words hit me harder than they should.
Hank realizes his mistake the moment his sees me stand.
“Hey Lay-,”

“I’m going to go paint.”

That shuts them up.

They don’t like to talk about me painting.
I turn my back to them, walking up the stairs and thinking of the title to the painting I would create.
“Lost words, lost smiles.”