The flood bell rings three times, and nobody in Hollowmere comes. Of course they don't.
I'm the one who always answers it.
Kestra: Easy, you rusted bastard. I've got you.
Pump three has been choking on river trash since dawn. I've got grease to my elbows and cold water to my ribs.
Six years of this. Nobody thanks me. The street stays dry, so nobody thinks.
Kestra: One more turn. Don't you dare die on me.
Mavra: Kestra! Caught the intake grate off the south line. Brought your seal kit.
Kestra: You're a goddess, Mavra.
Mavra: Don't tell my mother. She thinks I'm at prayer.
That's my crew. No pack, no titles, no sweet talk. Just people who show up with tools when the water rises.
Mavra: Rest of them are on the north bank. Whole street's pretending they can't hear the bell.
Kestra: Let them pretend. I like the quiet.
The seal bites. The old girl shudders, coughs, and starts to pull.
Water drops an inch. Then another.
Kestra: There she is. Good girl.
Then boots on the landing above. Three pairs.
Red dress. Copper hair. A mouth already smiling at something I'm not going to like.
Veyla: Look at this. The little pump bitch is down here playing in the shit again.
The other two laugh. It's an ugly sound in a small wet space.
Veyla: Four Alphas rode in at noon asking for the wolfless mechanic. Bet they smelled your wet dog cunt from the valley road.
Veyla: You think they want a mate? They want a warm hole that fixes pipes.
I get one hand on the ladder. She puts her boot on my shoulder and shoves.
My back hits the pipe collar. Something in my arm opens, hot and wet.
The water turns red around me.
Kestra: Get off me.
Veyla: Dain's mine. You go near him and I'll cut your throat and tell the court a pump drowned you.
She says it flat, like a chore she's already planned.
I believe her.
I stand up. My arm's dripping, my knees are shaking, and I still stand up.
Kestra: I've kept this town dry for six years. You've kept a market stall.
Kestra: So no. You don't get to tell me where I belong. Not you. Not them.
Her smile slips for half a second. Good.
Veyla: Freak.
They go. The hatch bangs shut. The breath I was holding comes out shaking.
My eyes burn. I don't cry. I fixed a pump with a split arm and I'm not giving her that too.
I tape it tight enough to hurt, and I keep working.
Ona: Kestra. Sweetheart. What happened to your arm?
Kestra: Pump collar got me.
Ona: That collar's been dead twenty years. Don't lie to an old woman.
Ona: Word's all over the market. Four Alphas are waiting there for you.
Ona: Aric. Dain. Talon. Ulric.
The names hit me somewhere under the ribs. Heat, sudden and stupid, like a hand on my neck.
Kestra: Why would they want me?
Ona: They're telling the whole market you're theirs. Scent claim. All four of them.
Kestra: I don't feel anything. No bond. No wolf.
Kestra: Just a headache in a nice coat.
Ona: That won't stop them. Or the town.
Ona: Every one of those men leaves a mess and rides home. Their names come first.
Ona: You're my family, kiddo. You don't owe them a thing.
I nod. My arm hurts. My chest hurts worse, and I hate that it does.
Above me, four powerful men are sitting in those market lights, waiting to find out what I am.
Kestra: Let them wait.
I turn back to the pump. The water's still coming, and I'm still the only one down here.