Selena’s POV
The fire crackled in the heart of the clearing, its flames twisting and leaping beneath the vast night sky of the Silver Pack. Sparks rose like tiny, restless stars before vanishing into the dark. The children sat in a tight circle around me, their small faces bathed in warm orange light, eyes wide with wonder.
I leaned in, dropping my voice to a hushed whisper.
“And then,” I breathed, “the white wolf leaped across the river and saved the entire pack from the shadow hunters.”
A collective gasp rippled through the group.
One little boy scooted closer on his knees, practically vibrating with curiosity. “Was she scared?”
A soft smile curved my lips. “Even the strongest wolves feel fear,” I told him gently. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s protecting the ones you love even when you’re terrified.”
Another child frowned, thoughtful. “But don’t packs have Alphas? Why didn’t the Alpha save them? Where was he?”
The others nodded eagerly, waiting.
I rested my chin on my hand, pretending to ponder the question. “Of course there was an Alpha,” I said. “But in this story, the white wolf was both Alpha and Luna.”
Confusion painted their faces.
“How?” they asked in unison.
I chuckled. “Because she was special. A hybrid. Stronger than two Alphas combined.”
The clearing erupted with excited chatter.
“I’m going to be the white wolf one day!” a girl declared.
“No, me!” another shot back.
The boys jumped in loudly. “We can be the white wolf too!”
Their laughter and playful arguments filled the night until I clapped my hands.
“Alright, alright—quiet down.”
The noise slowly died away.
Nyra, who had been unusually quiet the whole time, raised her small hand. Her wide eyes shimmered with wonder. She had stolen a piece of my heart the day she was born.
“Yes, Nyra?” I asked softly.
“I have a question,” she said shyly.
“Only one,” I teased.
She nodded quickly. “You said the white wolf is stronger than two Alphas… so how can I become one?”
My expression softened. I reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “Oh, Nyra… white wolves are incredibly rare. Only the Moon herself can bless someone with that kind of power.”
Her little shoulders drooped.
“But,” I added quickly, “you can still become the strongest wolf in the Silver Pack. All it takes is hard work and a brave heart.”
Determination sparked in her eyes again. “Okay.”
“Good.” I stood, brushing dirt from my clothes. “Now it’s late. Go home before your parents start worrying.”
The children groaned in protest but eventually scrambled to their feet.
“Thank you, Selena!” they called, waving as they dashed off toward the pack house.
Nyra lingered a moment longer. Then she ran back and threw her arms around my leg in a fierce hug.
I bent down and gently ruffled her hair. “I want to be the white wolf of the Silver Pack,” she whispered against my thigh.
“You will be something even better,” I murmured. “If the Moon chooses you. But I already know you’ll be strong.”
She flashed me a bright smile and raced after the others.
Soon the clearing grew quiet again. Only the fire remained, popping and sighing beside me.
“Great story.”
I jumped at the voice. Isadora stepped out from the shadows near the trees, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“Oh my God, Isadora—you scared me half to death.”
“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to.”
Moonlight spilled over her, turning her pale skin luminous. Her long black hair cascaded like silk down her back, and those icy blue eyes gleamed with that strange, otherworldly shine she sometimes carried.
“Have you been standing there the whole time?” I asked.
“Of course. I wanted to hear how it ended.”
I groaned. “You’re unbelievable.”
She laughed softly. “It’s late. Come on, let’s head back before the patrols get nosy.”
We walked together through the cool, quiet night toward my small house at the edge of the pack lands. The moment we stepped inside, Isadora pushed the door open like she owned the place.
“Now,” she announced dramatically, “what did you cook?”
I blinked. “I—I didn’t—”
She was already disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later she returned with toasted bread and fried eggs on a plate.
“Oh look,” she said cheerfully. “Breakfast for dinner.”
“I lost my appetite earlier,” I muttered.
She dropped onto a chair and started eating without shame. “You skipped breakfast again?”
“I promised the children a story and I was running late,” I said defensively.
Isadora shook her head. “You care about them more than you care about yourself.”
Her words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been.
Before I could reply, a loud knock echoed through the house.
We both froze.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked quietly.
I shook my head.
The knock came again—slower, more deliberate this time.
My heart picked up speed as I walked to the door. I leaned in, trying to peer through the small opening, but the night outside revealed nothing. The moment my fingers brushed the handle, a strange awareness washed over me. The air felt thicker. Charged.
I swallowed hard and opened the door.
Alpha Kael stood there, leaning casually against the wall beside the frame like he had all the time in the world. A small, knowing smile curved his lips.
The sight of him stole the air from my lungs.
“Hi,” he said, voice low and warm.
“Hi,” I managed, throat suddenly dry.
His gaze held mine, steady and searching. “Are you busy?”
The question felt too ordinary for the way my pulse was racing.
“No,” I whispered.
“Good.” His smile deepened. “Would you take a walk with me?”
“A walk?” I glanced past him into the dark woods. “Right now?”
“There’s nothing to fear,” he said gently.
Something in his voice made my chest tighten—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous. Hope.
I hesitated, then glanced back at Isadora. She was still eating, pretending not to listen, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
I stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind me.
When I turned around, he was watching me. He straightened and extended his hand.
“Come.”
My breath caught.
*Alphas don’t choose girls without wolves.* The thought screamed through my mind. In every story I’d ever heard, they rejected them. Cast them aside. Yet here he was—reaching for me.
It felt impossible.
Too good to be real.
My fingers trembled as I stared at his offered hand.
*Maybe just for tonight,* I thought. *Let it be simple. Let it not hurt.*
Slowly, I placed my hand in his.
His fingers closed around mine—warm, steady, sure.
And deep in my heart, one quiet prayer echoed:
Please… let this night go well.
