As the morning sun tickled the tip of my nose and shone mercilessly on me like it did every morning, I reluctantly awoke from my short dreamless sleep.

"Please not now..." I grumbled tiredly, turned onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow.

Immediately my old dark solid wood bed creaked and complained and I answered it out of habit: "Yes, yes, Betty. Stop moaning, I'm already up..."

Sleepily, I got up to the sound of my Betty groaning and rubbed my eyes. I had to blink several times against the bright morning sun until I finally got used to the brightness.

Then I sighed in agony. I didn't want to get up.

Normally I was a morning person, as I usually had the house to myself at that time, but at the moment I was just too overworked.

And today was the day I had been dreading for a long time. Because I was a werewolf. Well, not quite yet, strictly speaking.

But tonight at midnight was my eighteenth birthday and thus also my very first transformation into a wolf. The first transformation was uncontrollable, it just happened and it was also the most painful. At least from everything I've heard so far.

However, I didn't know much about the transformation and what it was like to be a wolf. After all, I had no one to talk to. At the thought, I slumped a little and Betty squeaked in insult at this small movement.

"Except you, of course," I replied apologetically to the bed.

Yes, I was aware that I was talking to a piece of furniture. But who could blame me? I would go crazy if I didn't.

And Betty wasn't the only one I talked to from time to time. My little stuffed dog named Bruno also knew all my worries inside and out. Even though he had never given me any good advice before...

My life was just bleak and empty.

Until I was about nine years old, I lived with my mother Clarissa in a small house in the mountains. I didn't know my father. It was a simple life, but we lacked nothing. My uncle Leopold and my cousin Jamie came to visit regularly. The blond boy was a little older than me and I always enjoyed playing with him. I was happy.

But the older I got, the more often I noticed that my mother was very depressed and listless from time to time. Some days she had barely left her bed and seemed like an empty shell of herself. These phases had become more and more frequent recently.

On Christmas Eve after my ninth birthday, when I should have been in bed, I sneaked downstairs hoping to see Santa Claus. Instead, I saw an argument between my mother and my uncle and fled, terrified, straight back to bed.

From then on, my mother was unrecognizable. Until finally, on New Year's Eve, she wordlessly packed my little blue Cinderella backpack with the essentials and handed me my beloved stuffed dog Bruno.

Then we drove through the winter night in silence. It was snowing heavily and I was scared. Partly because of my mother's blank look. Partly because I had a feeling that something bad was going to happen.

We drove into an area I had never been to before and stopped in front of a large house as the blizzard got more intense. We rang the front doorbell and the storm tore and pulled at us with its frosty fingers.

A tall, intimidating, dark-haired man opened the door and invited us in. They sent me into the living room, but I could tell from their tone that they were arguing. I remembered shivering, even though the house had been warm.

"Cinderella is really lame..." I suddenly heard a childish voice say behind me. I turned around in shock and began to sob from tension and fear.

Three boys who looked exactly the same stood behind me and eyed me skeptically. They couldn't have been much older than me. They all had dark hair and light blue eyes.

One of the three grinned wickedly: "What do you want here, little crybaby...?"

In search of support, I held my stuffed dog Bruno tightly to my chest.

At that second I heard the front door slam loudly and shortly afterwards the tall, scary man came into our living room and stared at me with a stony expression.

My mother had left.

She had left me behind. With these complete strangers...

That was almost nine years ago. I hadn't heard from her since. I missed her terribly. Even though I didn't know if I could ever forgive her for leaving me with those horrible people.

From then on my life became a nightmare.

The Stirlings were something like the first family of the pack. Roland Stirling, the dark-haired, intimidating big man, was the alpha of the North Moon pack. He was rather taciturn towards me and although his temples were now grey, that only made him look even more grim.

His wife Victoria, Luna and thus the highest ranking female wolf in the pack, was something like a queen. She was a beautiful, tall, slender woman with black, silky straight hair, light porcelain skin and piercing dark green eyes. But her beauty was deceptive, she was cold, heartless and hated me ever since they took me into their care.

The worst people I had to share my new home with were the triplets. Their names in birth order were Ashton, Blake and Collin. They were no longer little boys, but grown into grown men. Their derogatory behavior towards me had not changed since the first second.

They considered me nothing, worthless.

Something they had to tolerate in their home and that they could torture to their heart's content. I didn't understand why the rest of the pack idolized them. All the female wolves were at their feet and would jump at them if they snapped their fingers.

They were damn good looking, I couldn't deny that. But they were also ruthless, selfish and disgustingly arrogant. For me, it was like a curse to have to share my birthday and my home with them.

It was a wonderful coincidence that we also shared a birthday on November 16th. Except that they were three years older than me. And that day was tomorrow.

To make matters worse, our entire culture was against me.

We lived in a strict pack hierarchy. Usually, the eldest son of the alpha male would replace him in his position of power as soon as he was ready to advance. However, with identical triplets, it was a little more complicated. Since such a succession had never happened in the history of the pack, the triplets decided early on that they wanted to rule like an alpha in three bodies. Our pack and their father, the current alpha, supported their daring decision. The age at which the alphas could advance was twenty-one.

Thus, tomorrow, November 16th, the triplets would turn twenty-one years old and officially take over the pack from their father Roland.

My worst nightmare to date was about to come true.

Only the small ray of hope that after graduating high school I could finally leave this house and this horrible family behind me kept me going.

It was the Alpha's condition that I had to stay in the Stirling house until I graduated. And no one could contradict the Alpha.

I finally wanted my freedom; even though I was not a prisoner and was not officially considered an employee, I had never been part of the family.

If I was obedient, at least they treated me like air. Otherwise, things could be very different.

Either way, I longed for the day when I could finally leave my private hell.

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered slightly.

It was usually pretty cool in my little attic room. Except in the summer, of course, when it was stuffy and hot.

I looked sleepily around my tiny kingdom. I had exactly four pieces of furniture. Betty, my creaky old solid wood bed, a matching chest of drawers for my few clothes, an old bookcase with a built-in drawer that also served as a bedside table, and a small half-height cupboard in the corner where I kept my school things.

The rest of the small room was bare. A few boxes with some old things were stacked here and there. The walls and ceilings were wood paneled and there was an old gray carpet on the floor, on which I did my homework.

The best thing about my room was the round gable window. Even though I was annoyed that I had no way of darkening it, I was able to see the stars at night when I was lying in bed.

I also had the best view in the house. At that thought, I shakily got to my knees, turned around, and looked outside, accompanied by Betty's groaning noises.

We were far up north, so the winters were long, cold and snowy. However, our short summer months were still pleasantly warm and mild.

My gaze wandered over the small snow-covered clearing behind the house, to the dense forest with its tall evergreen conifers, to the long mountain range on the horizon, with its seven snow-covered peaks towering high into the sky.

Behind the seven mountains, the seven dwarves live, I thought with a smile. At least that's how I always imagined it when I first came here.

I've always had a passion for fairy tales. Whether the dark ones by the Brothers Grimm or the cheerful ones by Walt Disney. My mother used to read to me a lot on the long winter evenings and my absolute favorite fairy tale was Cinderella.

I always wanted to be able to talk to animals like Cinderella, have a fairy godmother and meet my prince at a big ball.

Instead, I was forced to do housework for a family that hated me. I didn't have two evil step-sisters, no, but three unbearable step-brothers, and I was talking to a creaky bed out of desperation...

Unlike Cinderella, I probably didn't have a good fairy, but an evil one.

Which led my adult self to the bitter realization that one should be careful what one wishes for.