The Beta's estate was a fortress of grey stone and cold expectations, but Elara's room was the only place that felt like a sanctuary. It was tucked into the highest gable, far from the polished halls where her father's disapproval echoed.
Tonight, the room was dimly lit by a single candle. Elara sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers tracing the fine silk of the gown her father had sent over—a deep, bruised purple meant to symbolize the Beta's lineage. It was beautiful, but it felt like a shroud.
A heavy, rhythmic knock thudded against her door. Before she could answer, it pushed open, and Kael stepped inside.
At seventeen, her younger brother was already a head taller than her, his shoulders broad with the muscle of a warrior who had embraced his wolf early. In the eyes of the pack, he was the "true" heir. But in this room, he was just the boy who used to hide from thunderstorms under her blankets.
"You're brooding again," Kael said, leaning his massive frame against the doorframe. "The scent of anxiety is practically leaking through the floorboards. You're giving the guards a headache."
"It's my eighteenth, Kael," Elara replied, not looking up. "I'm allowed a little brooding."
Kael walked over and sat on the trunk at the foot of her bed. He didn't offer a platitude; he knew her too well for that. "Father is downstairs going over the protocol for tomorrow. He's obsessed with the optics. He's terrified of what the Moon will show—or what it won't."
"He's terrified I'll be mated to a scavenger," Elara said bitterly. "Or that the bond won't trigger at all, confirming I'm just a human in a wolf's skin. A useless branch on a powerful tree."
"You're not useless," Kael said, his voice dropping an octave. "And you aren't invisible to everyone. I saw you talking to Jamin earlier."
Elara shifted slightly, the silk of her gown rustling. "He was just returning my notebook. He's... polite. That's all."
"He's more than polite, El. He's human," Kael said, a rare note of respect in his voice. "In a pack that worships the beast, Jamin is the only Alpha I know who actually remembers how to have a conversation that isn't about dominance or territory. He's the anchor to Jarrius's storm. While Jarrius is busy counting his future soldiers, Jamin is the one noticing when the people in the shadows are hurting."
"Jarrius doesn't see shadows," Elara whispered. "He only sees the light he stands in."
"Exactly," Kael nodded. "To the Alpha and the council, everyone else—including you—is just a number in the ledger. But Jamin... he's different. I've watched him. He doesn't look at you like a 'Beta-Female Two' or a statistic. He treats you like a person. It's a low bar, but in this pack, it's a miracle."
Kael stood up, reaching out to squeeze her knee with a hand that was incredibly gentle for its size. "Tomorrow, the twins will get their titles. Jarrius will likely spend the night basking in the glory of his rank, but Jamin will be the one making sure the transition doesn't crush those of us at the bottom. Keep that in mind. If the moon reveals something difficult, there are still people on your side who don't care about your rank."
Kael walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch. "Get some sleep, El. Don't let them make you feel small in your own home. You're a daughter of the Beta, even if the rest of them have forgotten what that's supposed to mean."
When he left, the silence felt heavier than before. Elara lay back on her pillows, staring at the ceiling. Her brother was right—to the leadership, to Jarrius, she was a non-factor. A shadow in a room full of giants.
She pressed her hand against her sternum. The heat was there again—not the warm, fuzzy pull of a wolf's bond, but a dry, searing heat that made her skin feel too tight.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she didn't see the moon. She saw embers.
24 hours, she thought. In 24 hours, the girl they overlooked will be gone. One way or another.