ARIELLE
There was a total of ten rogue shelters in the entire Weerwolf Kingdom, scattered across ten different locations. They were, of course, not entirely dedicated only to rogues.
The current Royal Luna, Daniella Wayne, was the one who initially opened all the shelters to help orphans and abandoned children. Her mission was to make sure that no wolf was left behind, regardless of their background or unfortunate circumstances.
Upon reaching the age of sixteen, when werewolves were in their shifting stage, the shelters were supposed to provide them with sustainable work, which usually meant hard physical labour.
Initially, Daniella was the one running the shelters using her own money, but as the word had gone out about that, the packs who wanted to get onto the good side of their royals decided to form an alliance and take the shelter management off the queen's hands.
The initiative seemed noble, and Daniella was happy to delegate this duty to others, however, once it happened, the allocated budget was cut more than in half, and the official rotation list of volunteers suddenly became obsolete.
As a result, the shelters had turned into rundown charity houses where young wolves were dying from starvation and diseases, while the packs were leeching off their budgets for their own profit.
Now, those houses were more like shelters for utterly hopeless wolves – both kids and adults – and more often than not, they were places where wolves came to die.
I, too, grew up in one of those shelters, and today, I was standing right in front of one of them, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.
"Ugh, what a dump," Hanna muttered behind my back, draping herself in a black coat as if it could help her shield herself from the horror that was awaiting her.
I grinned, spinning my body around to face her head-on. "If you think this is a dump, wait till you actually come inside!"
The maid shrank deeper in her coat, a violent shiver shaking her body like an earthquake. She bit her tongue, even though I could see how eager she was to spit more venom at me, but after the thirty lashes and a night spent outside, Hanna now knew better than to cross me.
Unfortunately for her, her punishment was not over yet.
Because I brought her to this specific shelter for a reason.
"Come on," I nudged her on the back, forcing her to finally step inside. "After you."
As soon as we entered the house, a sharp stench of dirt, rotten food, and all kinds of bodily fluids hit our noses, forcing us both to recoil at once.
The reek was so strong, it almost made me tear up, but I had to collect myself before Hanna could see my face again. This was supposed to be her nightmare. I was used to it.
As we walked through the vast, half-empty hallway on the first floor, I couldn't help but feel somewhat heartbroken. It wasn't used to be like that when I was a kid. Sure, I knew that things took a turn for the worse later on, but I had never had any interest in trying to see that with my own eyes.
Once I was brought to Blackstone, I was arrogant enough to think I had finally erased my past and everything related to it. Even in this life, there was still nothing I could do to help these people, not until I'd grown older, at least.
"How can I help you?" One of the shelter workers asked me as she approached us with a bucket of something red in her hands.
"Blackstone pack," I said, doing my best not to think about what exactly was in that bucket. "We are here to volunteer."
"I see," the woman nodded, clearly not very impressed by our appearance. "Well, the cleaning supplies are in the store room outside. You pick which duty you are comfortable with. How many days are you going to spend here?"
"Just one," I said firmly. "We are visiting all the shelters. One day per each."
"I see," the woman simply shrugged and padded away, adding carelessly over her shoulder. "The rations are scarce, so if you hadn't brought your own food, you'd have to make do with what we serve here."
"Did we bring any food, Miss?" Hanna asked me pleadingly, her doe eyes glued to mine.
I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest as I shot her a condescending glare. "Do you see me carrying any bags?"
Her shoulders slumped, face turning pallid as she turned away and muttered something under her nose.
I smiled, relishing in the moment. Sure, I knew that food here was a coveted luxury even for the workers themselves, but I was not so stupid as to bring my own supplies.
There were all kinds of desperate people staying in these shelters – one whiff of us having even a single crumb of food would turn this place into a battle royale. They wouldn't care if I were the alpha's daughter. They all knew damn well that it was because of the alphas and their packs that they had to resort to such desperate measures.
"All these sick, dying bastards," I heard Hanna murmur again, watching as she wrinkled her nose at the sight of sick children. "Why can't they just kill them? Keeping them alive is just a waste of the packs' money! What's the point in preserving such a miserable life anyway?"
"You would really like that, wouldn't you?" I asked, my lips spread into a wide grin.
"What... What is that supposed to mean?"
"I wonder..." I said thoughtfully, my eyes slowly scanning the beds in the spacious resting room.
She has to be somewhere here... I thought to myself, frowning as I couldn't see the person I was desperately looking for. I remember what she looked like from my past life... There is no way she'd be dead already...
"Hanna?"