The Woodland Packs

Loud footsteps walked up the hallway, then a fist pounded the door, hard

I jumped, shivering with cold and fear

“Hurry up! The kitchen isn’t going to clean itself!”

I rolled my eyes because he couldn’t see me. If anyone knew that, I did.

“Um, one minute. Sorry. I’ll be right out.”

He grunted and walked away.

I relaxed against the commode as I heard his footsteps fade away, my whole body shaking with stress.

How long was I going to be able to hide this from the den?

And when they finally found out, which was inevitable, what would they do? Force me to get an abortion? Or something worse?

I exhaled in a long sigh. Time to get moving.

I opened the water closet door and moved into the small bathroom next door, splashing some cold water onto my hot cheeks.

Uncle Dennis, my adoptive father’s brother, was my “employer.” He had me working seven days a week in a job no one else would do.

The bears owned a run-down block of apartments. Some of the floors were rented out to outsiders, the rest were occupied by members of the den,

including me.

And the way I paid for my tiny bedroom in this apartment I shared with four others was to clean every bathroom in the block.

All forty-six.

I exhaled slowly, garnering whatever self-preserving courage I had.

Just one step at a time. You can do this.

I walked to the old kitchen and grabbed some saltine crackers from the cupboard, crunching on the only thing that kept the nausea at bay.

I took a moment to breathe and get some food into my belly, then I got to work.

Of course, it wasn’t just my job to clean every bathroom in the block of apartments. It was also my delight to clean the kitchen and the entire apartment I slept in. Even though five of us lived there.

My nose burned with a sudden foul smell and my throat convulsed. Oh, no.

Then the front door flew open and three, burly, bear-shifting men walked in.

Great. My uncle was back, and with two of the others who’d shunned me when they found out I was human.

And the smell of them…. Oh my God.

I couldn’t hold it in.

I rushed to the newly cleaned kitchen sink. My back heaved as my stomach emptied the contents I’d managed to get into it.

“What’s going on with you? You sick again?” The voice was angry, annoyed. Like it always was with me. Or had been, since I reached maturity and the bears had decided I was unworthy of a mate.

Not a single man had wanted me.

Despite all my hopes and dreams of a real family, I’d been rejected.