After I Severed the Kinship Bond, My Whole Family Regretted It Chapter 01

After I Severed the Kinship Bond, My Whole Family Regretted It Chapter 01

On New Year’s Eve, I came to in a pack clinic with an IV taped to the back of my hand.

Balance due: $300.

Snow, my wolf, curled weakly inside me. “Perfect. We have exactly $29.01 to our name.”

I unlocked my phone. A countdown from the Pack Registry app filled my lock screen.

23 hours, 8 minutes, 27 seconds.

To keep young wolves from being abandoned, every Kinship Bond had to be reaffirmed once a year.

For the past two months, I’d been picking up temp shifts at concerts so I could afford the trip home to renew mine. I’d worked myself so hard that I collapsed backstage and woke up here.

I was too weak even to reach anyone through mind-link.

Calling Mom was my only option. The phone rang and rang before she finally answered, with noise blasting in the background.

“Mom, I’m at a pack clinic. I need $300 to pay the bill.”

“A clinic?” Her voice sharpened instantly. “On New Year’s Eve? Seriously, Elara? Of all nights?”

“I passed out. I…”

She cut me off. “I don’t have three hundred dollars to give you. Figure it out.”

“Mom.” I tightened my grip on the phone. “Today’s the last day to reaffirm the bond. As soon as I pay the bill, I’m coming straight home.”

“Don’t try to guilt me with the bond.” She gave a cold laugh. “You’re the one obsessed with renewing it. I can take it or leave it. If you can’t be bothered to come home, then maybe I don’t have a daughter.”

The call ended.

Her words hit harder than wolfsbane. Snow was already weak, and the pain tore through her so badly that she coughed up blood somewhere deep inside me.

My fingers went white around the phone. I opened a loan app to see if I could scrape together the money, only to notice a new post on social media.

My sister had posted an Instagram carousel. “Rex with Mom and Dad! Front row was SO worth it!”

The photos had been taken at the same arena where I’d been working.

That seat cost nearly $29,000.

In one photo, Dad held up a piece of concert merch while Mom had an arm around Lyra. The three of them were smiling so brightly it hurt to look at.

I looked from the photo to the clinic bill crumpled in my hand.

The nurse tapped lightly on the counter. “Are you able to pay the balance today?”

My phone buzzed again. Lyra had texted me. “Sis, is Snow dead or something? Why can’t I get you on mind-link? Mom said you’re pretending to be sick for money again. Can you not make everything harder for them? They work for what they have.”

I called Dad next. It rang for a long time before he answered over the roar of the crowd. “Dad, I’m at the clinic. I need three hundred dollars for the bill.”

“Elara…” He sounded uneasy. “What happened?”

“I passed out. Malnutrition.”

“Oh. You really need to take better care of yourself…” He didn’t get to finish. Mom’s voice cut sharply through the phone. “Is that Elara? Is she asking for money again? Marcus, don’t you dare send her anything!”

The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Elara, enough. I’m not giving you three hundred dollars. Not one cent.”

“Mom,” I said evenly, “I saw the concert pictures.”

Silence.

A few seconds later, she blew up.

“So what? Your sister’s been under a lot of pressure at school. We wanted to do something nice for her. Is that a crime? Why do you always have to turn everything into a competition with her?”

“I passed out from malnutrition and woke up in a clinic,” I said slowly. “While you’re sitting front row in a twenty-nine-thousand-dollar seat.”

“And?”

Whatever restraint she had left disappeared. “It’s our money. We decide how to spend it. We already send you five hundred dollars every month, and somehow that’s still not enough. You’re an adult, Elara. Stop acting entitled.”

“So I get five hundred a month.” I watched the IV drip. “What does she get? Fifteen hundred? Twenty thousand?”

“That’s ridiculous!” she snapped. “You do this every time. You can’t manage your own life, so you decide you’re jealous of your sister. If five hundred dollars is so unbearable, then don’t reaffirm the Kinship Bond today.”

She hung up.

The dead tone buzzed in my ear.

I stared at the clinic bill, then at the countdown glowing on my lock screen.

The nurse came over again.

“Do you need help figuring something out?”

I looked up and smiled. “No. I’m fine.”

I opened the shopping app and canceled the silver bracelet I’d ordered. I’d picked up shift after shift to save for it.

It was supposed to be a gift for Mom.