Downstairs, the scent of coffee and something sweet, probably Mom’s blueberry pancakes, fills the air. Mom looks up from the stove, offering a small, reassuring smile. We don’t need to speak about it. The unspoken understanding hangs in the air, a silent agreement we’ve struck since the bonfire.
She offers me a mug of herbal tea, my favorite, a blend of mint and lavender. "Sleep well, mija?" Mom asks, her voice soft. I just shake my head slightly, accepting the mug.
Mom places a hand on my shoulder, a feather-light touch. "You are strong, Maya. Stronger than any of them know." It’s a quiet affirmation that helps settle my churning stomach, a reminder that at least one person in this world sees me, truly sees me, beyond the titles and expectations.
A sudden, sharp bark from outside. Both Mom and I stiffen. It’s too close to the main den. Not a playful bark. This one is laced with warning.
Mom moves to the window, peering out. Her expression tightens. "Rogues," she murmurs, her voice a low growl. "They're getting bolder. Too bold." The external threat becomes very real, a stark reminder of why I agreed to the marking. The pack needs stability. They need their future Luna who isn’t just strong, but unwavering.
I feel a flicker of annoyance, hot and sharp. Even with the internal pack drama, the external threats are escalating. It’s a constant pressure cooker, and I’m right in the middle.
I head to the training grounds, needing the physical outlet, needing to feel the burn in my muscles to distract from the hum beneath my skin. Bolton is already there, observing a group of younger wolves, hispresence a magnet for attention. His gaze finds me immediately, a silent question in his eyes.
He approaches, his usual confident stride a little more deliberate today. He takes my arm gently, his touch warm and familiar. "Are you alright, Maya? You seem… distant this morning." He’s concerned, genuinely. But his touch feels possessive, a reminder of the upcoming public display, and the bind I’m willingly stepping into.
He means well, she knows. But his concern feels like a leash.I need to be seen as strong, not fragile. Not a project.
I pull my arm away slightly, not abruptly, but firmly. "I'm fine, Bolton. Just… focused." I force a confident tone, hoping it masks the tremor in my voice.
Suddenly, a sneering voice cuts through the crisp morning air. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Worried about your little 'ceremony,' 'Alpha's mate'?" Cassie stands a few yards away, flanked by a few of her cronies, a venomous smirk on her face. Her eyes are glittering, almost feral.
Cassie steps forward, her eyes glinting. "You think a little public display will fix everything, Maya? You think the pack will forget what you are? A half-breed. Tainted." Her words are like daggers, aimed straight for the deepest insecurity I’ve ever harbored.
"You're just jealous, Cassie," I retort, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands, a low growl starting to build in my chest.
Cassie laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "Jealous? Of a leash? No, Maya. I promised I'd finish things before that moon rises. And I always keep my promises." Her gaze drops to my feet, then sweeps up to the high branches of the ancient oak that dominates the training ground. A glint of something metallic catches my eye, just for a second, high in the tree. Too quick to identify.
Cassie's eyes lock with mine. "Tonight, Maya. You'll wish you never agreed to this charade." She turns and stalks off, her cronies snickering behind her, their laughter like nails on a chalkboard.
Bolton moves to stand protectively in front of me, his body a shield. "Don't listen to her, Maya. She's just trying to get under your skin." But I see the concern in his eyes, the subtle shift in his stance. He’s worried. And I hate that she can still do this.
As Cassie walks away, one of her cronies, a hulking male named Rylan, steps forward. He grins, a challenge in his eyes. "She’s right, Bolton. How can we trust an Alpha’s mate who can’t even handle a simple rogue threat? Or… a simple climb?" He gestures pointedly towards the massive ancient oak tree, its lower branches thick and gnarled, but the higher ones thin and precarious.
My eyes narrow. The metallic glint I saw in the tree earlier flashes in my mind. This isn't random. This is staged.
Rylan continues, sneering, "Maybe the 'future Luna' should prove she's not just a pretty face for the ceremony. Prove she can handle herself. Climb that tree, Maya. Prove you can navigate a difficult path without falling." His words are dripping with insinuation about my lineage, about the 'taint' Cassie keeps harping on.
A ripple of whispers goes through the younger wolves. Some look curious, some skeptical, some clearly on Cassie's side, their eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and malice.
Bolton steps forward, his jaw tight. "That's enough, Rylan. Maya doesn't need to prove anything to anyone." But I put a hand on his arm, shaking my head.
This is it. The chance."No, Bolton," I say, my voice low and steady, radiating a new, fierce resolve. "He's right. I will prove it."
I stride towards the tree, ignoring the snickers, ignoring the doubt that still lingers like a phantom limb. I take a deep breath,focusing. My human side analyzes the handholds, the weakness of the branches. My wolf side feels the ancient wood, the grip of bark under my fingers, the raw power of the earth beneath my feet.
I start to climb. It's harder than it looks. The lower branches are easy, but as I go higher, the air thins, and the branches sway precariously. I remember the metallic glint. I see it now: a thin, almost invisible tripwire strung between two higher branches, designed to make me fall. Cassie’s sabotage. A cruel, petty trap.
A gasp from below. Some of the smaller wolves look worried, their eyes wide.
Instead of panicking, a hot surge of anger and resolve floods me. This is my heritage, both sides, working in tandem. I use my human dexterity to subtly shift my weight, my wolf instincts to find the securest footholds, and my keen hybrid senses to detect the tripwire. I am both. I am more.
I sidestep it, barely brushing it, then continue my ascent until I'm perched on a high, stable branch, looking down at the gathered pack members. I look Rylan dead in the eye, my gaze unwavering. "Is that high enough for you, Rylan?" My voice rings with a new authority, echoing through the clearing.
A few of the younger wolves actually cheer, a tentative, hopeful sound. Dax, who had been watching silently with Lila, lets out a low whistle of approval. Even Bolton looks impressed, a flicker of pride in his eyes that melts some of the fear still clinging to my heart.
I descend with more confidence, landing lightly on my feet, barely making a sound. I meet Rylan's gaze again, a triumphant, defiant smirk on my lips. "Anything else you want to challenge, or are you satisfied that a 'half-breed' can navigate a little obstacle course?" My eyes flick to Cassie, who is now glaring, her face a mask of barely controlled fury.
Later that day, in the pack meeting room, a familiar warmth settles over me as I sit with Bolton, Dax, and Lila. We’re discussing the incident, the tension in the room lessened by the shared understanding.
