PlotlumeAfter I married Sebastian, the werewolf CEO and Alpha, his sisters moved into our top-floor mansion.
They never say it to my face, but behind my back they call me a 'human waste.' They've never bared their fangs at me, either.
We've been married for months, and they barely speak to me. When they do, it's only to pick at me.
Every night after midnight, they gather in the living room and laugh over the pack's private channel.
They press against the floor-to-ceiling windows to watch me, thrilled.
"Big sis, that easy target of a sister-in-law is hiding under her blanket and shaking again!"
"Keep it down. If she gets scared, who's going to sit through this show with us?"
I don't understand their wolf slang, but I can see the red stains on their lips.
"Our brother said as long as no one ends up dead, we can scare her however we like!"
I can't tell whether they're planning how to split me up.
I roll over, pull the silk blanket over my head, and feel for the silver dagger under my pillow.
My sisters-in-law are nice. I must just be too sensitive.
1
The next morning, howls and snarls echo through the living room.
Marisol and Lola are yelling at a parchment scroll.
Bella is perched on the marble bar counter, gnawing a raw steak that's still bloody.
Blood drips down the edge of the counter.
I'm sitting in the corner of the sofa with my hearing aids in, flipping through a magazine, though I haven't taken in a single word.
Bella lifts the bloody steak and turns her head.
"Sister-in-law, want some?"
She's speaking in common human language.
I hurriedly take out my hearing aids and stand up to thank her.
"Thank you, Bella, I can actually..."
Marisol lets out a short burst of wolf slang, cutting me off.
Bella snorts with laughter, tosses the raw steak into the trash, and turns away.
The sharp smell of blood hits me, and no one looks at me again.
"Hehe, Big Sis, you're so wicked!"
Lola laughs in wolf-speak, grabs a napkin to wipe her hands, and flicks a bloodied ball of paper at my feet.
I freeze where I stand, my hand still hanging in the air.
On the day we got our marriage certificate, I asked them to speak common language at home.
"Sister-in-law, I'm really sorry. We grew up speaking it this way. We'll change, I promise."
Marisol had pressed a hand to her chest and apologized to me then.
But from that day on, the wolf-speak in the house only got denser and sharper.
On Saturday night, Sebastian's pack elders and cousins came to the mansion for a bonfire dinner.
Nobody came upstairs to tell me all night.
I changed into my gown and walked out of my room, telling myself that pack members naturally bond at gatherings.
I carried my wine glass to the end of the long table and sat down.
Bella scooted her chair over, creating a gap between us.
"Wendy, why did you come down? The raw-meat feast would make you throw up, so we didn't call you."
Marisol lifted her glass and smiled at me, then immediately switched right back to wolf-speak.
The whole dinner, the werewolves around me were all partying in high-pitched wolf-speak.
I chewed my cold wagyu alone, and it was so tough it hurt my teeth.
"They say humans can't even crush bones. How pitiful."
A distant cousin mocked me in broken common language, and everyone burst out laughing.
"Don't say that. Wendy's delicate. Be patient with her, and don't scare her."
Marisol spoke up to cover for me, but her hand slid a bowl of raw pig's blood soup in front of me.
Reddish-brown splatters landed on the white hem of my gown.
My stomach churned. I put down my knife and fork and fled to the terrace.
I took out my phone and called my best friend in the human city.
"I'm doing fine at Sebastian's. They take good care of me. The food's just hard to get used to."
After I hung up, I sat in the cold wind for a long time.
Late into the night, I finally pushed open the door at the end of the master bedroom hallway.
The lively living room fell dead silent in an instant.
Every werewolf stopped moving at once and turned to stare at me.
"Go on, keep talking. Don't mind me, I'm going to bed."
I forced a smile, walked back to the master bedroom, and locked the door.
I tore down the lace curtains by the window and hung heavy velvet blackout drapes.
I slid my hand under the pillow and touched the silver dagger.
A bloodstained piece of parchment was slipped under the living room door.