Chapter 70 071
Chapter 71
Thalia's POV
Two months into probation, winter arrived.
The temperature dropped and snow started falling regularly. The pack prepared for the cold months ahead, storing food and reinforcing shelters.
Our workload in the kitchen increased. More meals to prepare for wolves who stayed inside during harsh weather. More dishes to clean. More hours spent standing over hot stoves and cold washing tubs.
My hands developed permanent cracks from the constant exposure to water and temperature changes. Rosa gave me salve but it only helped so much.
"You need to wear gloves when you wash," she instructed.
"We don't have gloves for kitchen work."
"Then I'll get you some. Your hands are getting infected."
She brought me thick working gloves the next day. Sarah approved their use as long as the work still got done properly.
It helped. Slowly my hands started to heal.
Kira continued working alongside us. She'd integrated into the kitchen routine efficiently and Sarah seemed to approve of her work ethic.
But Kira still watched me. Not obviously, but I caught her glances when she thought I wasn't paying attention.
One afternoon when we were alone prepping vegetables, she spoke quietly.
"How much longer do you have?"
"Ten months."
"That's a long time to maintain this level of compliance."
"I don't have a choice."
"Everyone has choices. You're choosing survival over resistance. That's still a choice."
"Resistance means extending my probation or worse. That's not a real choice."
Kira cut carrots with precise movements. "What if there were other options? Ones you haven't considered?"
"Like what?"
She glanced toward the door, making sure no one was coming. "Like leaving. Getting away from Varian's control completely."
"The collar tracks me. If I leave pack territory, alarms go off. I'd be caught within hours."
"Collars can be removed."
"Not without the key. Which Varian keeps personally."
"There are other ways to deal with collars. People who specialize in removing them without keys."
I stopped working and looked at her directly. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I think you're wasting potential staying here. You could be doing more than serving meals and keeping your head down."
"Are you trying to recruit me for something?"
"I'm offering you information. What you do with it is your choice."
"I'm not interested in schemes that will get me hunted as a rogue."
"Even if it meant actual freedom instead of this fake compliance?"
"This fake compliance keeps me and my mother alive. That's worth more than some fantasy of freedom that probably doesn't exist."
Kira shrugged and went back to cutting vegetables. "Just think about it. You have ten months. A lot can happen in ten months."
I reported the conversation to Sarah that evening.
"Kira's trying to get me to leave. Talking about people who can remove collars and options I haven't considered."
Sarah's expression darkened. "That's dangerous talk. You need to report this to Varian."
"If I report it, Kira gets punished. Possibly severely."
"And if you don't report it and someone finds out you knew about escape plans, your probation gets extended indefinitely. Maybe your mother's too."
She was right. I had to report it.
I requested a meeting with Varian the next morning. Stood in his office and told him everything Kira had said.
"She's trying to recruit you to escape," Varian observed calmly.
"Yes. I wanted you to know immediately that I'm not interested and that I'm reporting her approach."
"Good. You're learning. This is exactly the kind of loyalty I expect from probationary members."
He summoned Kira to his office. I was required to stay and repeat my account in front of her.
Kira's expression didn't change as I spoke. She just watched me with those sharp eyes, neither surprised nor angry.
"Is this accurate?" Varian asked her.
"Yes. I suggested Thalia had options beyond serving out her probation. I thought she might be interested in hearing about alternatives."
"Alternatives that involve removing pack property and fleeing pack territory. That's attempted theft and encouragement to go rogue."
"I was offering information. Nothing more."
"You were attempting to corrupt a probationary member. That's a serious offense."
Kira finally showed some emotion. A slight smile. "I wasn't corrupting anyone. I was testing her. Seeing if she was actually as compliant as she appeared or if she was just hiding rebellion."
"And what did you conclude?"
"That she's genuinely broken. That you've successfully transformed her from someone who stood up to you into someone who reports conversations to avoid consequences. Congratulations. Your methods work."
The words hit harder than they should have. Because part of me feared she was right.
Varian had Kira removed and placed in the holding cells pending further punishment. I was dismissed with praise for my loyalty.
Walking back to the kitchen, I felt hollow.
My mother found me there standing motionless in front of the washing tubs.
"What happened?"
I told her everything. About Kira's offer. About reporting her. About the test and what Kira had concluded.
"You did the right thing," my mother assured me.
"Did I? Because I feel like I just proved I'm exactly what Kira said. Someone who's been broken."
"You're not broken. You're smart. There's a difference."
"Is there? Because a few months ago I would have at least considered her offer. Would have thought about alternatives before immediately running to Varian. Now I don't even hesitate. I just comply."
"You're surviving. That takes a different kind of strength than open defiance."
"Or it's just weakness with a prettier name."
That night I couldn't sleep. Kept replaying Kira's words. "Genuinely broken. Successfully transformed."
Was that what I'd become? Had Varian actually succeeded in breaking whatever defiance I'd once had?
The evidence suggested yes. I followed orders without question now. Reported potential escape plans. Made public statements validating my own punishment. Wore the collar without fighting it anymore.
Every marker of compliance was there.
But compliance for survival wasn't the same as genuine transformation. Was it?
I wanted to believe there was still something inside me that hadn't surrendered. Some core of self that was just hidden, not destroyed.
But I was starting to doubt.
Three days later, Kira was exiled. Permanently this time, with the rogue designation that meant any pack could hunt her if they chose.
I watched her leave from the kitchen window. She walked away from pack lands with nothing but the clothes she wore.
She didn't look broken. Didn't look defeated.
She looked free.
And I hated how much I envied that even as I knew reporting her had been the only rational choice.
"You saved yourself," my mother reminded me when she saw my expression. "And you saved us both from suspicion. That matters."
"Does it? Because I just watched someone who was actually free walk away while I stay here wearing this collar and pretending I'm grateful for it."
"Kira isn't free. She's hunted. There's a difference."
"Maybe. But at least she chose it. I haven't chosen anything in months. I just react and comply and survive."
My mother didn't have an answer to that.
Because we both knew it was true.
I'd stopped making choices and started just accepting whatever came. That was survival but it wasn't living.
And I had nine more months of it ahead.
Nine more months of compliance and service and proving I could submit.
Nine more months of becoming someone I didn't recognize.
The thought of it made me want to scream. But I didn't scream. I just went back to washing dishes.
Because that's what I did now. What I'd become.
Someone who swallowed rage and kept working. Someone who reported threats and earned praise for loyalty. Someone who'd forgotten how to fight back.
Kira was right. I was broken.
And the worst part was I didn't know how to fix it. Didn't know if there was anything left to fix.
So I just kept washing dishes and counting days and hoping that somewhere under all this compliance there was still a person worth recovering.
But I wasn't sure anymore.
And that scared me more than anything Varian had ever done.