Isla’s Burden
The infirmary was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows across the walls. Isla sat on the edge of her bed, her body aching and her mind restless. Her shoulder throbbed beneath the bandages, but it was the weight in her chest that truly hurt. The words Susan had spoken earlier replayed in her mind like a drumbeat: “The pack is waiting to see your wolf.”
She hadn’t shifted once since the trials began. Not before, not during, not even when her life depended on it. The truth was, she couldn’t. And if the pack found out, if Draven found out… what then?
Her thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last. They’ll turn on me. They’ll call me a fraud. Draven will cast me out. Just like what my own blood did.
Lira, her wolf, stirred in her mind, her voice steady but firm. Stop. You’re stronger than this.
“Am I?” Isla whispered aloud. “If I were stronger, I wouldn’t be afraid of them.”
You’re afraid because you care,Because you know what’s at stake. But fear doesn’t define you. What you do next does.
Before Isla could respond, the door opened, and Susan entered carrying a tray of food. Her sharp eyes immediately locked onto Isla’s pale face. “You look terrible,” she said bluntly, setting the tray down.
“Thanks,” Isla muttered, her voice dry.
Susan ignored the sarcasm, pulling a chair closer. “You’re overthinking,” she said, crossing her arms. “I can see it written all over your face.”
Isla frowned, her gaze dropping to her hands. “They’re expecting me to shift.”
“And?”
“I can’t,” Isla said quietly, her voice trembling. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”
Susan studied her for a moment before leaning forward, her tone softening slightly. “You survived the trials. You brought back the crest. That’s what matters.”
“It won’t be enough,” Isla whispered. “Not for them. Not for Draven.”
Susan’s lips thinned, her voice turning sharp again. “Then figure it out. You’ve faced worse than this, Isla. And if you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll find a way.”
Isla looked up, meeting Susan’s piercing gaze. For a moment, the weight on her chest lightened, and she felt a flicker of hope. But as Susan left the room, doubt crept back in.
Run,Run before they see you for what you are—a fraud.
But where could she go? Midnight Crest was a death sentence. The rogue lands were worse. There was no escape, no safe haven for someone like her.
Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. “I can’t run,” she said aloud, as though saying it would make it true. “Not again.”
Lira’s voice echoed in her mind, quiet but steady. Then don’t.
Isla exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting to the window. The moon hung high in the sky, a silent witness to her turmoil. For now, she would stay. But the fear of what was to come lingered, a shadow she couldn’t shake.
