Elara POV

The Great Hall of the keep was a cavern of clamorous noise and flickering torchlight. Along the heavy oak tables, warriors tore at roasted boar with greasy fingers and drank from dented tankards. At the high table, seated in the Alpha's customary place, was Kaelen. Beside him, Seraphina.

Upon a silver platter before her, she had emptied the contents of the leather pouch.

"A gift," Seraphina announced, her voice carrying over the din, "from our future Alpha."

A roar of approval went up from the tables, the sound of wood banging on wood a deafening drumbeat.

"The future Luna claims her spoils!" a hulking warrior bellowed.

They were already naming her his Luna.

Another man laughed. "The month's wager is nearly up, Kaelen. Will you yield to her clan's demands?"

I knew of the wager. Seraphina had boasted to the other she-wolves that she could secure Kaelen's proposal, and with it the alliance, within thirty days.

The words hung in the air like smoke. I waited for Kaelen to deny it, to laugh it off as drunkards' nonsense. Instead, a low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound meant as a warning, yet there was no true menace in his scent. The corner of his mouth was, in fact, turned upwards in a sort of proud smirk as his gaze settled on her.

So it was true. He knew of the wager. And he was playing along.

A faint, insistent whisper echoed at the edge of my consciousness. Elara, will he truly choose her as his Mate?

It was a Mind-Link, sent by a young packmate from across the hall.

I closed my eyes, and with a deliberate effort of will, erected a wall of silence in my mind. The link was severed.

An hour later, we were all convened in the vast, cold library for the lesson in pack histories. The Elders stood before the hearth, their forms casting long, wavering shadows. They were wolves of great age and many battles, and the very air around them seemed thick with a stern, unyielding gravity.

Ordinarily, Kaelen would have taken the seat beside me, letting his presence form a buffer, a shield for my senses against the crushing authority of the Elders. Today, he sat one row ahead, with Seraphina at his side, their shoulders nearly brushing across the narrow aisle.

He offered no protection.

A tightness seized my chest, and the air grew thin in my lungs under the sheer weight of the room's collective presence.

My gaze fell upon a slip of parchment in Kaelen's hand. He scribbled a note upon it, then slid it with a faint scratching sound across the polished wood of the desk to Seraphina. She read his words, and a small, private giggle escaped her lips before she wrote a reply. Their inner wolves were communing, a silent flirtation conducted in plain sight.

"Seraphina," the eldest of the Elders called out. "Inform the assembly of the significance of our territorial borders."

Seraphina rose to her feet, her posture one of utter confidence. "Borders are the lifeblood of the pack, protecting our resources and repelling rogues. A strong Luna must see to their patrol daily."

"Excellent," the Elder commended, a rare smile gracing his severe features.

Then, his sharp gaze fell upon me.

"Unlike some," the Elder continued, his voice hardening with a cold pragmatism. "Survival in the winter to come will demand strength. Elara, you have had the future Alpha's tutelage for years, and yet you show no progress. You cannot shift. You cannot fight. In a rogue attack, you would not merely perish—you would see your packmates slain in the futile effort of your defense."

A low ripple of derisive laughter moved through the library.

A hot flush crept up my neck, burning my cheeks.

The instinct of the Omega was to lower my head, to offer my throat in submission to the humiliation. My eyes stung with a familiar, traitorous heat.

I looked to the rigid line of Kaelen's back. In times past, his Alpha's Command would have silenced the room in a heartbeat. He would have been on his feet, snarling at any who dared mock me.

Today, he remained seated, his knuckles turning white where he gripped the edge of his desk. His gaze was fixed upon the motes of dust dancing in a stray sunbeam, his entire being coiled in a deliberate effort of non-intervention.

"Look," Seraphina whispered, her voice loud enough to carry. "She is about to weep again."

A harsh, weary sigh escaped Kaelen's lips.

"Omegas are a liability," he muttered, forcing a hollow chuckle that did not reach his eyes.

The sound of it, that broken laugh, felt like a stone slab settling upon my lungs.

I closed my eyes. I brought my teeth down upon my lower lip, biting until the warm, metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. With a will I did not know I possessed, I forced the tears back, swallowing them down like poison.

And in that moment, something inside me shifted—not my wolf, but something deeper. A door closing. A flame guttering out.

I opened my eyes and fixed them on the back of Kaelen's head, vowing that my tears would never fall before him again.

Elara POV

Following the lesson, my feet carried me directly to the highest chamber in the Elders' tower. The room was redolent of old parchment and burning beeswax.

An Elder laid a heavy contract upon the table. It was the final approval for my departure to the Royal Academy.

I bit my thumb until a single drop of blood welled, and pressed it to the bottom of the page. The sanguine seal glowed for a moment, a brief, binding flare of red.

As I descended to the main courtyard, I passed the stone armory. The heavy oak door stood ajar. I stopped, my steps arrested by the sound of Seraphina's bright, ringing laughter.

I peered through the gap.

Seraphina was perched upon the edge of a long weapons table. Kaelen stood between her knees. She was toying with a silver dagger, its blade catching the light.

"Tell me plainly, Alpha," Seraphina purred, her voice carrying a political edge disguised as flirtation as she leaned toward his face. A small assembly of male warriors watched them, their faces alight with eager grins.

"Who is the fitter to stand at your side?" Seraphina demanded, her voice rising to ensure she was heard by all. "I, or that little Omega, Elara?"

The men began to whistle and stomp their boots upon the flagstones.

Kaelen reached for the dagger, his fingers closing over the hilt to still its motion.

As he pulled, Seraphina deliberately let go, feigning a loss of balance. She fell forward, landing flush against his chest.

Kaelen caught her, his expression hardening for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a low, breathless laugh.

The warriors howled their approval.

Seraphina's arms wound around his neck, and she did not let go.

"An answer, Alpha," she whispered against his jaw.

"Your strength, Seraphina," Kaelen conceded, his eyes fixed on the silver blade rather than her face—as if he couldn't quite meet anyone's gaze. "It is what this pack requires."

I took a reflexive step back, my vision swimming for an instant. My shoulder bumped against the heavy oak door, causing it to swing inward with a loud, groaning creak that echoed off the stone walls.

Every head in the armory swiveled toward the entrance.

A flicker of raw panic crossed Kaelen's face. He pushed Seraphina from his chest with such force that she stumbled backward. Seraphina merely smirked. She retrieved the dagger and pointed its tip at me.

"Oh dear," she mocked. "Shall we fetch a mop for the tears?"

The other she-wolves in the room covered their mouths, their stifled giggles a testament to their anticipation of my collapse.

Kaelen strode toward the door, his brow furrowed.

"Elara, where are you going?" he asked, his voice tight. "I was just about to find you. I thought to teach you some basic defensive maneuvers today."

His hand stopped in mid-air, the knuckles white with tension. My gaze traveled over that hand to the gray, clouded mountains in the distance.

"To the back mountain," the words scraped from my throat, dry and without inflection.

My fingertips dug into the hem of my cloak until the nails turned a bloodless white. I stared at a patch of moss in the crack between two flagstones, forcing my weight onto my right foot to take the first step. Circling his rigid form, I walked out into the corridor, where a cold draft met me head-on.

A packmate hurried to my side as I moved down the hall.

"Are you not angered?" she whispered.

I opened my history text and carefully secreted the travel contract between its pages.

"No," I replied, my voice a study in calm. "A future Alpha has the right to choose a stronger Luna for his pack."

"But—" my packmate started.

"He made his choice," I cut her off gently. "And I have made mine."

She fell silent, perhaps sensing that something fundamental had changed in me—something she could not name.

Later that afternoon, a messenger delivered a note from Kaelen, a summons to the market. I cast it into the fire.

At sunset, I heard Seraphina's voice rise from the courtyard, asking Kaelen to take her on a night hunt in the Black Forest.

"We should take Elara," Kaelen suggested, his voice carrying.

"I decline," I called back from my window, before slamming the wooden shutters closed. I sat upon my bed, letting the cold darkness of the room settle around me, a quiet comfort in the knowledge that my time in this place was nearly at its end.

Outside, I heard Kaelen's footsteps pause beneath my window. He stood there for a long moment, saying nothing. Then Seraphina called his name, and his footsteps retreated.

I did not open the shutters.