The cold sweat clung to Sienna's skin, a familiar clammy shroud. Her blue eyes, wide and unseeing, stared blankly at the ceiling. The images from her nightmare, a monster tearing her father's heart, still pulsed behind her eyelids. Warm tears traced paths down her cheeks, a silent river of grief and fear she no longer bothered to wipe away. Every night, the same scene. Every morning, the same hollow ache.

She moved like a puppet, limbs heavy and unresponsive, as she rose from her bed. Her feet carried her towards the bathroom, but paused, as they always did, before the mirror. Her reflection stared back, a pair of deep blue eyes that lacked the youthful light of girls her age, dimmed by gloom, exuding melancholy. A rueful smile touched her lips. These eyes, indeed, were windows to a soul that had seen too much, wept more than it had smiled.

She assessed her face. Uncle Jarek called her beautiful, but she knew better. Her bullies, especially Azriel, had carved the truth into her very being. Round face, brown wavy hair that caught gold in the sun, reaching her waist. Short for a werewolf, only 5'2", a constant target for their cruel jokes. And then there was the most damning fact of all: she was wolfless.

Today, she had an important test. Another day, another battle.