Don’t come back

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older brothers brought home a twelve-year-old orphaned Omega.

My alpha brother seized the rare healing herb I’d spent all my savings on-herbs meant to ease my first transformation-and gave them to her instead.

“You’re strong enough,” he growled. “You don’t need such precious herbs.”

My beta brother snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. “Get out! Don’t come back!”

I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left.

They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I’d return in a few days.

My brothers, finally free of my presence, took the orphan girl on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I’d always dreamed of visiting.