Violet
Violet ran the brush through her sister’s hair. “There. All the tangles are gone.”
Her younger sister scooped up a handful of snow as she grinned up at her. “Thanks. Can you braid it?”
“Don’t hit me with a snowball,” Violet warned. She didn’t want to go home with her dress wet. “But yes. I’ll braid your hair if you’ll help me with the –” The words froze on her tongue as a booming male voice rang out.
“Violet! Where are you?” At the sound of their father’s voice, both girls jumped to attention. Once he’d started calling someone's name, he was already angry.
Dammit. She pushed her sister away. “Go. Get back home and start working on the sewing.”
“But –”
“Don’t argue.” She did her best to protect her sister, but her sister had to do her part and cooperate.
She scrambled to pick up the logs she’d already piled up. “I’m here, Father. Gathering firewood.” Like you told me to, was the part she didn’t say out loud.
She blinked a snowflake from her eyelashes and tried to look placid. Inside, she was anything but. Sometimes she fantasized about hurling a log straight at his head. Not that it would hurt him. He was a wolf shifter, and a log flying toward his face would only make him furious.
He snarled at her. “Get that wood back to the camp,” he said. She turned, hesitating. She hated turning her back to him.
He shoved her forward, not putting much force into it. But she let herself stumble. If she was too tough, he’d ramp up his force, and make the next shove harder, just to prove a point.
When she got back to the camp, her sister was waiting on her. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Just fine,” Violet said, even though it was a lie.
Dinner was excruciating that night. For some reason, her father, who was the Alpha of their pack, had found fault with the way her mother had cooked the venison. He’d berated her and then taken her portion and given it to Violet’s younger brother. Violet knew her brother didn’t want to eat his mother’s food. He’d even gagged on it. But he’d choked it down, unwilling to earn his father’s wrath for himself. After that, her father went to bed. Their entire family breathed a sigh of relief. It was visible on their faces and in the set of their shoulders, although none of them would ever mention it.
Once Violet was sure her father was asleep, she approached her mother. Now that he wasn’t prowling around their property, yelling and kicking and shoving, Violet could finally exhale. She let her breath out, expanding her lungs in her ribs.
Her mother sat by the fire, deftly sewing. She was by far the best seamstress in the pack, and Violet tried to help her mother when she could.
She knew better than to criticize her father. Her mother would freeze. Then she’d make excuses. But no matter how futile it was, Violet always tried again.
“We could leave here,” she said.
Her mother flinched. “I’m quite happy here.” She didn’t look away from the fabric. “If you just wait, you’ll find that you’ll be quite happy too.”
“Wait until what?” she asked. Wait until father stops being a cruel bastard?
Her mother didn’t answer. She just looked at her fabric and her needle and thread like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
She gave up. Her mother was a lost cause. But Violet was not.
* * *
The following night,her father had their family gather around the fire. “I have a very important announcement,” he said.
All eyes were fixed on him.
“And it’s very good news. I’ve found mates for both of you girls,” he declared, pointing in the direction of his two oldest daughters. “I’ll be announcing it to the pack tonight.”
“Without telling us?” Violet said.
“What did you say to me?” his eyes narrowed as he spun to face her.
Shit. She’d spoken out of turn. “I only meant that I was surprised you hadn’t shared the information with us yet. Since it’s such good news.”