It didn’t come with a bang or a scream in the night. No one came swinging chains or Molotovs. Instead, it arrived on crisp white paper, slipped under the front door like a polite threat.

Anika found it just after sunrise. The kitchen still smelled like weak coffee and leftover soup when she held the envelope between two fingers like it might bite.
“It’s from the city,” she said.

I leaned over her shoulder to read it. Nyx, ever dramatic, let out a mental groan. “Ugh, humans and their paperwork. Can’t we just eat someone?”

I ignored her.

The letter was clean, typed, and official. Too official. Something about zoning regulations. Land disputes. Claims that the shelter was built on illegally obtained property. And then the real kicker—accusations. Anonymous tips alleging that the shelter was a front for criminal activities: trafficking, drugs, weapons. All of it complete fiction, but dressed up in the language of bureaucracy.

“Bullshit,” Sasha hissed. “Complete and total bullshit.”

“They’re coming at us legally,” I said. “Smart move. No blood, no mess. Just... erasure.”

“They want to shut us down,” Dev added quietly. “And they’ve got the tools to do it.”

She didn’t argue. Just folded the letter back into its envelope with slow, deliberate fingers. “They’re turning the screws.”

Mr. Khouri limped in with his coffee, caught the tail end of the conversation, and sighed like his soul hurt.
“We can’t afford lawyers. You all know that.”

“We can’t afford not to fight,” Sasha said. “If we fold now, we lose Mira. We lose everyone.”

That name. Mira. It grounded me more than Nyx’s snarls ever could.

“She’s upstairs,” I murmured. “Still asleep.”

“They’ll take her,” Anika said softly. “If this shelter goes under, she goes back into the system.”

And that, I couldn’t allow.

“I’ll handle it,” I said.

Everyone turned to look at me. Like I’d just offered to catch a knife with my teeth.

“How?” Dev asked. “You gonna argue zoning law with a city inspector?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. But I’ve got contacts. People who still owe me.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes. “You mean those people.”

“I mean useful people.”

Anika sighed. “We don’t have the luxury of being picky.”

We spent the rest of the morning mapping out options. We had two weeks, according to the notice, before the first inspection. Two weeks to gather paperwork, prove legitimacy, and convince someone—anyone—that we weren’t what they claimed.

Dev was already digging through old receipts and permits. Sasha made a call to a former volunteer who worked admin for a local nonprofit. Mr. Khouri promised to speak to an old friend on the city council, though no one held their breath for that one.

And me? I slipped out the backdoor, hoodie pulled low, and vanished into the part of the city where no one looked too closely.

By nightfall, I was back. Dusty, exhausted, and angry.

“They’ve got reach,” I told Anika. “Whoever’s behind this has ties in legal offices, real estate. They want us out, and they want it to look clean.”

“Can we expose them?” Sasha asked.

I shook my head. “Not without proof. And they’ve scrubbed their tracks well.”

Nyx huffed in my mind. “Cowards hiding behind paper and pens. Let me bite just one of them. Just one.”

“Not yet,” I whispered.

“What?” Anika asked.

“Nothing. Thinking out loud.”

She gave me a look. She knew better. But she let it slide.

Later that night, I stood on the shelter’s rooftop, the city sprawled out below me like a sleeping beast. Mira’s laughter echoed faintly from a window. Safe. For now.

“I’m not letting them take this place,” I said to the stars.

Nyx sighed. “Good. Because I’ve already picked out whose face we claw first.”

I smiled.

We were in this now.

And I wasn’t the girl who had woken up broken in a hospital bed anymore.

I was Rhea Nyx.

And I had a wolf.