Elara POV:

Three days passed.

The Blackwood Pack was a hive of frantic, directionless energy. Kael lay in a deep coma in the Healers' ward.

I walked down the long, stone corridor of the ward, carrying a wooden tray. The air was heavy with the smell of bitter herbs and the sour scent of anxious wolves.

I saw Selene standing outside Kael's heavy oak door. She was wearing a pure white dress, posturing as a fragile flower. Selene claimed to be a gentle Beta, but I could always smell the stale, grimy scent of a Rogue hidden beneath her cheap rose perfume. She needed me laid out on that cold table, my chest carved open once more, not just to save Kael, but to keep his attention from her own family's treacherous dealings.

When she saw me, her eyes welled with practiced tears.

"Elara," she whispered, stepping into my path. She reached for my sleeve, but I took a half-step back, letting her fingers grasp at empty air.

"He is dying, Elara," Selene said, her voice trembling. "The Healers say only a miracle can save him now. They've tested dozens of wolves, but no one's blood is compatible enough to neutralize the venom."

She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. She was guiding me, prompting me to volunteer my rare White Wolf blood, just as she had in my dream. She wanted me to be the hero who sacrificed everything, so she could reap the rewards of a healthy Alpha.

"And then what?" I asked, my throat producing no echo of feeling. The words left my mouth like chips of dry ice, devoid of all warmth.

Selene blinked, confused by my response.

"What do you mean? You would save him! You love him, do you not?" she pressed.

"If he requires a miracle, go and pray," I said. My gaze traveled from the hem of her dress to her carefully arranged hair with undisguised disdain. "You are his future mate, are you not? Your prayers should carry more weight than an Omega's."

Selene's face went slack. She opened her mouth to speak, but I gave her no opportunity.

I walked past her, leaving her a solitary white figure in the cold hallway.

In my dream, her tears had worked. I had felt noble when I volunteered. Noble, and utterly doomed.

Before my hand could touch the door to the ward, Kael's father, the current Alpha, emerged into the corridor, his large frame blocking my path. He looked exhausted, his broad shoulders slumped.

I placed the tray of hot herb soup on a small nearby table.

"Alpha," I said, inclining my head in a traditional greeting.

He turned to look at me. His eyes were dark and desperate.

"Elara," he said, his voice heavy. "The Healers have tested everyone in the Pack. No one's blood can counter the venom destroying his core."

He took a step toward me. The air in the chamber grew dense, a palpable weight that pressed upon my lungs as if a great stone were laid upon my breast.

This was the Alpha's Command, a power that forces lesser wolves to submit.

"You grew up with him," the Alpha continued, his voice resonating with that compelling power. "I need you to allow the Healers to test you. I need you to give him your blood."

In my dream, this pressure had buckled my knees. I had wept and consented, and they had taken far more than blood.

But now, the dormant White Wolf blood inside me stirred. A warm current spread through my veins, pushing back against the Alpha's heavy aura. I also knew my rights.

I stood straight, my eyes fixed on the crest embroidered on his chest, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I apologize, Alpha," I said clearly. "But the mid-term examinations for the Royal Academy of Runes are next week."

I kept my voice perfectly polite, yet firm. "As a registered student under the Crown's treaty, I am exempt from forced Pack medical procedures. I will not consent to any core extraction."

The Alpha stared at me, utterly stunned by my refusal.

Before the shock could recede from his features, before he could muster another command, I pivoted on my heel. My worn leather shoes made no sound on the polished stone as I retreated down the corridor, leaving his stunned silence to be swallowed by the ward's sterile quiet.

I hurried back to the basement kitchen.

My mother was waiting for me. She looked at my face and knew.

"Did they ask you?" she whispered, her hands trembling as she wrung a dishcloth.

I walked to her and crouched by her chair.

I took her rough, warm hands in mine.

"Mother," I said, looking deeply into her eyes. "I will never give them my blood. I will never let them break my core."

Martha gasped, tears filling her eyes. She was an Omega. Fear of the Alpha class was carved into her very bones.

But as she looked at me, a fierce, protective light ignited in her eyes. A mother's love was stronger than Pack law.

"Good," she whispered fiercely, squeezing my hands. "You protect yourself, Elara. Do you hear me?"

"I will," I promised. "Our service contract ends at the Winter Festival. We are going to leave this manor."

I stood and kissed her forehead.

I went up to my attic room and sat at my small wooden desk. I opened an old, heavy book filled with ancient magical runes. The strange symbols seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight.

I picked up my quill.

I was going to earn a perfect score.

I was going to write my own fate.

And no Alpha, no Luna, no weeping girl in white would take that from me.

Elara POV:

A week passed in a blur of ink and parchment. Alpha Kael remained in his coma.

I, on the other hand, had accomplished three things.

First, I completed my mid-term examinations at the academy, ranking third in my entire class.

Second, I accepted a well-paid commission to translate a set of ancient Elven scrolls.

Third, I found a small, red-brick house for rent in the town near the academy.

I was sitting in the academy's grand library, surrounded by towering shelves. I was carefully transcribing the translation of a complex rune when a sharp pain lanced through my temples.

Elara! Where are you? Return to the manor immediately!

It was the Luna's voice, echoing inside my head. This was the Mind-Link, the telepathic network of the Pack. Normally, an Omega cannot block a Luna's connection.

But my mind was no longer a weak and pliant thing.

I drew my consciousness downward, imagining the severing of countless muddied synapses until all that remained in my mind was the dry rustle of parchment.

Busy.

I sent back the single word, then violently severed the connection. The silence in my head was a beautiful thing.

She would be furious. Let her be. In my dream, I had answered every summons like a trained dog, and it had earned me nothing but an early grave.

That evening, I returned to Blackwood Manor.

The moment I stepped into the grand hall, I knew it was a trap. The long oak dining table was lit by dozens of silver candelabras. The Luna sat at the head of the table, her face a mask of cold fury.

"Sit down, Elara," she commanded, pointing to a chair opposite her.

I did not move. I stood near the door, maintaining my distance.

"I prefer to stand, Luna. What is it you require?" I asked.

Luna's eyes narrowed. "The Healers have confirmed that your blood type is a rare match," she said, dispensing with all pleasantries. "We need half of your wolf core to neutralize the venom destroying Kael's."

"I am unwilling," I said. The words left my mouth before she had even finished her sentence. They were sharp, swift, and absolute.

Luna slammed her hands on the table, making the silver cutlery jump.

"How dare you!" she screamed. "Do you know what will happen to him if he does not receive a core?"

"I know precisely what becomes of an Omega who surrenders half her core," I replied, my voice as unadorned as the stone walls around us. "Chronic pain. The loss of the shift. A life cut short. The Moon Goddess showed me exactly what you are asking me to accept. You ask that I die a slow death so your son may live in comfort."

I looked at her without a flicker of pity.

"Kael can wait. When a Pack Warrior dies honorably in battle, their core can be transplanted to sustain him."

It would not restore him fully—only White Wolf blood could truly cleanse the venom and make him whole—but it would keep him alive. Let him settle for survival, just as he would have settled me with a lifetime of pain.

"You ungrateful creature!" Luna shrieked, her face purpling. "This manor has fed you! We have given you and your mother shelter for fifteen years! This is how you repay our grace?"

I let out a short, dry laugh.

"Grace?" I repeated, the word tasting like dirt. "My mother works sixteen hours a day, scrubbing your stone floors until her knees bleed." I pointed a finger at the gleaming floor beneath my feet. "She cooks your meals and washes your clothes for a few copper coins and a damp room in the basement."

I looked directly into the Luna's furious eyes.

"You purchased cheap labor, Luna. You did not purchase my life. And under the Academy's charter, you cannot touch me without the Crown's approval. There is no grace here."

I turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring the stream of vitriol she hurled at my back.

The Luna's shouts faded behind me. She did not know it yet, but she had already lost. The dream had freed me from the chains she still believed were wrapped around my throat.

Late that night, my mother came up to my attic. She looked terrified.

"I have the money from my translations," I told her, showing her a small leather pouch heavy with gold coins. "We are moving out. Soon."

Martha looked at the gold, then at me, and finally nodded, her expression firm and brave.

The next morning, I walked out of the heavy iron gates of the manor to head to the academy. Selene was waiting for me by the stone pillars. The morning wind was freezing, whipping her thin cloak about her.

"You are a monster, Elara," Selene spat, her eyes full of venom. "You are watching him die and doing nothing."

I stopped and looked at her. Several Pack members were walking by, heading to the morning market.

I made certain my voice was loud enough to carry on the wind.

"I did not tell him to run into the forest," I said clearly. "You knew your brother owed money to Rogues. You knew those Rogues carried venom no healer could cure."

Selene's eyes widened in panic as the passing wolves slowed their steps to listen.

"You wept to Kael and manipulated his Alpha pride," I continued, my voice cutting through the cold air like a shard of glass. "You sent him to his death because you wanted a free bodyguard to clean up your family's squalid affairs."

"Be silent!" Selene hissed, looking around nervously.

"You caused his broken core, Selene. Not I," I said. I pulled my warm wool cloak tighter around my shoulders.

I left her standing in the freezing wind, enveloped by the suspicious whispers of the Pack.

Let them whisper. Let them wonder. The truth was a weapon I had never wielded in my dream, and now it cut deeper than any claw.