chapter 15
Sunday afternoons in the district always had the same energy: tired, hungry, and mildly chaotic.
By midday the heat was rising, aunties were fighting over washing lines, and kids were chasing each other with sticks that definitely weren’t sanitized. Ferial and Abdie stayed outside, finishing the last of her grandmother’s fried veggie dough, when—naturally—everything went downhill.
It started small:
A soccer ball rolled under Abdie’s chair.
Then a kid chased it and tripped, falling dramatically against Ferial’s legs.
Then the kid’s mother stormed over shouting, “WHY YOU SIT OUTSIDE LIKE A LANDLORD! MOVE YOUR LEGS WHEN YOU SEE A CHILD!”
Abdie blinked. “Ma’am… he ran into her. She didn’t run into him.”
The mother narrowed her eyes. “Are you calling my child stupid?”
Ferial raised her hands. “No, no, no—”
“Yes!” Abdie said.
“ABDI—”
“What? He is! You saw him! He flies like a drunk pigeon!”
The mother gasped so sharply her wig shifted. “How dare you talk about my baby like that! He’s gifted!”
“He’s gifted in falling!” Abdie shouted.
Ferial groaned. “Abdie, PLEASE.”
Too late.
The aunties from across the walkway joined.
“Abdie, leave the child alone!”
“He didn’t fall, man — he descended.”
“WHERE IS YOUR MANNERS!”
And like the district was summoned by gossip, the arguing spread:
One of the aunties accused the other of “raising interfering children.”
Someone accused Abdie of not paying back money from three months ago.
A man yelled that the soccer ball hit his washing.
Another neighbor came out and shouted that everyone was blocking the walkway.
A toddler started crying just for dramatic effect.
Within minutes, it became a full-scale district shouting match, complete with finger-pointing, wrong accusations, someone crying, someone laughing, and one auntie telling EVERYONE that their ancestors were “shaking their heads in heaven.”
Ferial stood in the middle of it, horrified.
Abdie was ready to swing a broom.
The aunties were ready to swing each other.
And that’s when —
The wolf patrol turned the corner.
Four enforcers.
Fully armed.
Already annoyed.
They froze at the sight of twenty humans shouting like a live-action telenovela.
One enforcer muttered, “Moon above… not again.”
Another raised his voice. “EVERYONE — STOP TALKING!”
The district ignored him.
“STOP TALKING!” he repeated, louder.
The district ignored him again.
An older man yelled back, “YOU STOP TALKING!”
The enforcer blinked. “Sir. Please.”
But it was too late. The argument grew bigger, louder, and more chaotic until the wolves finally snapped.
The captain pointed at the entire group with a shaky inhale.
“Okay. You. You. You. And—” he waved his hand helplessly, “—ALL OF YOU. Into the trucks. Now.”
Abdie froze. “Wait, wait, wait — ALL of us?”
Another wolf nodded. “Yes. All of you. We’re taking you to command.”
“Command?” Ferial squeaked. “Why command? We didn’t do anything!”
“You did plenty,” the captain muttered. “All of you are being detained for… disturbing… whatever this is.”
Auntie Rachel gasped. “ME? ME? I did NOTHING!”
“You screamed at three different people,” the enforcer replied.
“That’s my personality!”
“Into the truck, ma’am.”
The chaos upgraded to shocked chaos.
Before they knew it, Ferial, Abdie, and half the block were being herded toward two armored vehicles like naughty schoolchildren being marched to the principal’s office.
Ferial hissed to Abdie, “I TOLD you to keep quiet!”
“You can’t blame me!” he whispered aggressively. “The kid hit YOU!”
“And you hit the entire neighborhood!”
They continued bickering even as a wolf pushed them into the vehicle.
Inside the armored truck, the neighbors continued shouting at each other, even though there was barely space to blink.
Ferial covered her face. “We’re going to die. They’re going to make us mop the enforcer block.”
One wolf overheard. “If you keep shouting, yes.”
Abdie groaned.
---
They arrived at the command building.
Not just any building — the temporary operations center.
The place where all high-level wolves were stationed.
Including him.
The moment the humans were shoved inside the main hall, dozens of wolves turned in unison.
Meetings stopped.
Maps, radios, and screens froze mid-mission.
A general stared.
A lieutenant blinked slowly.
One younger soldier whispered, “Why are there… so many humans?”
The Alpha heir stood at the head of a long table, halfway through briefing a group of high-ranking wolves.
Ferial’s stomach fell into her slippers.
He turned.
His expression was unreadable — sharp, focused, and visibly displeased to have his entire briefing interrupted by what looked like a chaotic field trip from the district.
The enforcer captain cleared his throat nervously. “Alpha heir, sir… we brought them in. They were causing a public disturbance.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The Alpha heir stepped forward, hands behind his back, eyes scanning the group — and landing on Ferial.
Just for a heartbeat.
Her chest tightened.
Then he addressed the room.
“What,” he asked calmly, “is happening?”
Everyone pointed at everyone else.
All at once.
The shouting exploded.
“She hit me with her slipper!”
“He insulted my parenting!”
“She threw my pot!”
“Abdie said my child is a PIGEON!”
“YOU ARE A PIGEON!”
The Alpha heir closed his eyes for a long, suffering moment — like he was considering walking out of the room and never returning.
Finally, he raised one hand.
The entire room fell silent instantly.
His voice was low, controlled.
“Either you explain one at a time…”
He paused.
“…or I will make you run laps around the compound until the moon rises.”
Ferial gasped.
Abdie whispered, “He’s not joking. I can see it.”
One by one, they explained — horribly — each blaming someone else, each contradicting the next, until the Alpha heir massaged his temples.
When it finally ended, he stared at them like they were a species he’d never seen before.
Then:
“Punishment,” he said, “will be simple.”
Everyone held their breath.
The Alpha heir turned to the patrol captain. “Escort them back.”
The neighbors exhaled in relief.
“Under supervision.”
They inhaled in panic.
“And assign them all to two days of district cleanup duty.”
An auntie screamed, “NOOOO!”
Abdie shouted, “WHAT!”
Ferial whispered, “We deserve this.”
Then — unbelievably — the Alpha heir looked at her again.
Not for long.
Just long enough for heat to crawl up her spine.
Just long enough for her to feel seen.
Just long enough for her to feel trapped.
The wolves began herding the group back out of the hall, still muttering, still arguing.
As they left, the Alpha heir returned to his meeting, voice steady, expression unreadable.
But his eyes…
His eyes lingered on her until the door closed.
And the district — loudly, chaotically, disastrously — wasn’t done with her yet.