Mira's POV
The ceremonial grounds are packed before sunrise.
Mira stands at the very back with the other servants and Omegas, her burned hands shoved deep into her pockets. She didn't sleep at all after finding Garrick's body. She just lay in her bunk staring at the ceiling, waiting for guards to come drag her away for knowing too much.
Nobody came. Which means Kael kept his word.
The thought of him makes her chest tight in a way she doesn't want to examine.
Around her, the pack is restless. Warriors cluster together talking in low voices. Noble families stand in groups, their designer clothes and jewelry catching the early light. The Elders sit on a raised platform, their ancient faces grim and serious.
Everyone is waiting.
The sun breaks over the horizon and Elder Thaddeus stands. His voice is old and thin but it carries across the entire grounds, reaching even the Omegas in the back.
"The Alpha bloodline has ended. Garrick Ashborn had no heir and no successor. The pack stands at a crossroads."
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Mira keeps her eyes down, making herself smaller.
"But the ancient scrolls speak of this moment," Thaddeus continues. He holds up a roll of parchment so old it looks like it might crumble. "When the bloodline breaks, the prophecy awakens. We have not read these words in five hundred years. Now we must listen."
He unfurls the scroll and his voice takes on a strange quality. Like he's channeling something older than himself.
"When the Alpha bloodline fails and the throne sits empty, a new ruler will rise from the lowest blood. Not from noble families. Not from warrior lines. From the forgotten ones. From the invisible ones."
Mira's stomach drops.
No. No no no.
"The next Alpha will be marked by silver in their hair and violet in their eyes. They will carry the gift of command. The ability to dominate the very wolves that hunt beneath the moon. When this one claims their power, the pack will transform. For better or worse, the old world will burn."
Silence crashes down like a physical thing.
Mira feels hundreds of eyes sweeping through the crowd. Looking for someone with silver hair and violet eyes. Looking for the prophecy made flesh.
Her hand moves to her hair instinctively. The silver streaks are right there, impossible to hide. She's always hated them, always felt like they marked her as lesser. Now they feel like a target painted in blood.
Her violet eyes are locked on the ground but she can feel the stares anyway. Some curious. Some afraid. Some hungry.
Seraphina's voice cuts through the noise before Mira can stop shaking.
"Ancient nonsense," the Beta female says loudly. She stands near the front, beautiful and confident and dripping with disdain. "Prophecies are just stories old wolves told when they didn't want to admit they were losing control. We don't need mystical signs. We need strength. We need the Blood Moon Hunt to decide our next Alpha like it always has."
Several warriors agree with her. Noble families nod. The tension loosens slightly because Seraphina is right. Prophecies don't mean anything in a pack that values strength above all else.
But Elder Thaddeus doesn't look convinced. He rolls up the scroll carefully and his eyes sweep the crowd before landing on the back where Mira is standing.
For just a second, his gaze locks with hers.
Then he looks away and the moment breaks.
The meeting dissolves into chaos. Warriors start arguing about the Blood Moon Hunt. Noble families cluster together discussing politics. The Omegas start dispersing, heading back to their duties.
Mira tries to follow them.
A hand wraps around her wrist before she can take two steps.
She knows who it is before she even turns. She'd recognize Seraphina's perfume anywhere. Something floral and poisonous that makes her throat tight.
"Hello, little servant," Seraphina says, her voice dripping sweetness that doesn't match her eyes. "How are those hands healing?"
Mira can feel the other Omegas watching. They always do when Seraphina decides to play with her.
"Fine," Mira whispers.
"Good. That's good." Seraphina's grip tightens on her wrist. "Because I need you to understand something very clearly. The prophecy they just read is nonsense. Entertaining nonsense, but nonsense nonetheless. There's no way the pack would ever follow an Omega, especially not some invisible nothing like you."
She leans closer and her voice drops so only Mira can hear.
"But paranoia is dangerous. People are stupid when they're paranoid. They see silver hair and violet eyes and they start wondering. They start asking questions. They start thinking crazy things like maybe the prophecy is real."
Mira tries to pull away but Seraphina's grip is iron.
"So here's what's going to happen. Three days from now, the Blood Moon Hunt begins. It's the most important ritual we have. Unmated Alphas prove their strength. Warriors show their power. The whole pack gathers to celebrate."
Seraphina's smile turns sharp as broken glass.
"And you're going to disappear. You're going to stay in the servants' quarters with the door locked. You're not going to watch. You're not going to wander. You're not even going to breathe loud. Because wolves in hunting frenzy are unpredictable. They get excited. They get aggressive. And sometimes they forget that Omegas are supposed to be protected."
The unspoken threat hangs in the air between them.
Sometimes they kill them instead.
"If you're smart, if you're really as invisible as you're supposed to be, you'll survive the hunt. You'll survive the prophecy nonsense. You'll go back to being nothing and nobody will remember your name." Seraphina releases her wrist and steps back. Her voice returns to normal volume. "But if you're stupid. If you try to use that prophecy garbage to climb above your station. If you even think about trying to matter..."
Her smile doesn't reach her eyes.
"Then the hunt will be the least of your problems."
She walks away, already bored, confident that she's made her point. The other Omegas quickly look away when Mira glances at them. They won't help. They can't help. Getting involved means becoming a target too.
Mira stands alone in the middle of the dispersing crowd, her wrist throbbing where Seraphina grabbed it, her burned hands clenching into fists.
The prophecy echoes in her mind. Marked by silver hair and violet eyes.
She looks down at her hands. At the burns that Seraphina gave her without consequence. At the dirt under her fingernails from scrubbing floors. At the scars that mark her as broken and less than.
For twenty-two years she's been invisible. She's been safe in that invisibility. Safe in being nothing, mattering to no one.
But something shifted when she found Garrick's body.
Something shifted when Kael looked at her like she was more than a ghost.
And now the entire pack thinks she might be important. They think she might be the one from the prophecy.
They think she might matter.
Seraphina is walking toward the noble families now, already gossiping, probably spreading her own version of what happened. Making sure everyone knows that the prophecy is definitely about Mira. Making sure that whether it's true or not, the seed of suspicion is planted.
If Mira tries to hide, they'll think she's guilty.
If she tries to act normal, they'll be watching for signs of power.
If she tries to claim innocence, nobody will believe her.
She's trapped between the prophecy and Seraphina's hate, with nowhere to run.
And the Blood Moon Hunt starts in three days.
Three days until Alphas are wild and unpredictable. Three days until hunting frenzy makes them dangerous. Three days until she needs to choose between staying invisible and staying alive.
Because Mira is starting to understand something terrifying.
Staying invisible might have just become impossible.