LYRA
If you live in a werewolf pack without a wolf, you learn to walk quietly. You learn to lower your eyes. You learn to pretend the whispers don't sting.
"Move, human."
I stepped aside immediately as two she-wolves brushed past me in the corridor of the medical wing. Their shoulders knocked into mine on purpose. One of them laughed.
"She smells like nothing," the other said.
"Not even an Omega."
I kept my face blank.
After fifteen years in Silver Crescent territory, I had mastered the art of invisibility.
I organized herbs. Cleaned wounds. Boiled water. Kept my head down.
Because humans weren't equals here. We were barely tolerated.
"Lyra," Beta Rowan's sharp voice cut through the room like a blade. "Stop daydreaming and bring those bandages."
"I wasn't daydreaming," I murmured softly, but I moved quickly.
Beta Rowan never liked me. None of them did.
To them, I was the girl the former pack healer had taken pity on. The orphan with no wolf. The strange child whose mother died under mysterious circumstances.
Useless.
Weak.
Human.
I watched him apply the bandage on the patient's cut, his hands precise, almost gentle. Rowan never looked at me while he worked, but I could feel the weight of his eyes judging every small move I made.
"Hand me the disinfectant," he said finally, still not looking at me.
I obeyed immediately, holding the bottle out with both hands. As I was about to hand it over, I accidentally tripped. The bottle slipped from my fingers and hit the floor, spilling its contents.
Rowan turned to me in rage, yanking me up from the floor.
"How dare you?"
"I… I'm sorry. It was an accident," I stuttered.
"Even as a human you're still weak. Now get out before I rip you apart," he said with clear irritation.
I didn't wait to be told twice.
"I… I'm sorry," I whispered again, but my voice was already fading as I backed away.
My hands were shaking. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't get enough air. I kept my head down as I hurried out of the medical wing, feeling the familiar burn behind my eyes.
Don't cry here. Don't cry where they can see.
The heavy wooden door closed behind me with a dull thud. Only then did I breathe.
Outside, the air was cold against my skin. The sounds of the pack carried on like nothing had happened, warriors training in the distance, laughter from young wolves. The normal life I would never truly belong to.
I found the old wooden bench near the wall of the building and sat down slowly.
My hands covered my eyes. For a moment, I said nothing. Did nothing. Just sat there, holding myself together.
Why does it still hurt?
After fifteen years, I should be used to this. The insults. The looks. The reminder that I was less.
But some days were harder.
Today was one of them.
My fingers pressed harder against my eyelids as the memories I tried to bury slowly crept back.
Even as a human you're still weak.
His words echoed.
I had no wolf. No family. No rank. No one to defend me if things went wrong. If they decided tomorrow that I was no longer useful, I knew exactly what would happen.
Humans without purpose didn't last long in pack territory.
A single tear escaped before I could stop it.
I quickly wiped it away.
Crying changed nothing.
It never had.
I lowered my hands slowly and stared at the ground, forcing my breathing to steady. My mind drifted back to last night.
I had dreamed again.
Of golden eyes.
Of a massive black wolf standing over me.
Of a voice that wasn't mine whispering:
Soon.
I shook the thought away and rose from the bench.
"You're attending tonight's gathering, aren't you?" one of the she-wolves asked as she approached.
"Of course she is," another snorted. "The Alpha invited all territory residents. Even the pets."
They laughed.
I felt hurt by their words but didn't retaliate.
Tonight was Alpha Lucian's territory assembly, his first since crushing the eastern rogue invasion.
The entire pack would attend.
Even humans.
Especially humans.
Because public gatherings were displays of power.
And Alpha Lucian loved reminding everyone who ruled.
I had only seen him up close once. Two years ago.
He walked through the training grounds after a border fight, blood streaked across his jaw, eyes glowing faintly silver. Warriors parted for him like the sea obeying its king.
I remember something strange happening then.
The air had tightened.
My heartbeat had quickened.
And for a split second… I felt warmth in my chest.
It disappeared as quickly as it came.
Just like everything else inside me.
"Don't stare at the Alpha tonight," one of the she-wolves mocked as she passed me again. "He doesn't like desperate girls."
Heat rose to my cheeks.
"I'm not desperate."
"Please," she scoffed. "Every unmated female in this territory dreams about him claiming them."
Alpha Lucian was twenty-seven.
Unmated.
Untouched by any official Luna.
Feared.
Admired.
He would never notice someone like me.
Someone who didn't even have a wolf.
****
By afternoon, the entire territory buzzed with preparation. Warriors patrolled the borders. Omegas prepared food. Banners bearing the Nightcrest emblem hung from stone pillars.
I felt a strange tightness in my chest.
Like something restless waiting.
As the sun began to set, I returned to the small quarters I lived in behind the medical wing.
I was about to take my seat on the small bed and then...
A sharp pulse struck my chest.
Painful.
Sudden.
Like something had knocked from inside my ribs.
I collapsed on the floor, one hand clutching my chest trying to control my breathing.