Chapter 2: The Golden Wolf
I set the meatloaf down on the long oak dining table, the scent wafting through the air like a forgotten promise.
Laughter echoed from the living room.
Father, usually buried in Alpha Council meetings and Ashveil Pack’s logistics, sat comfortably, listening intently as Sera gushed about her time at Wolfsbane Academy.
“We practiced under the pack elder Greyfang,” she said, eyes shining. “He said I had the instincts of a born Alpha–strong enough to lead any pack.”
Mother clutched Sera’s hand, eyes shimmering with emotion.
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“My sweet girl. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? You need more rest–too much time in training will weaken your wolf and dull your senses.”
Rafe sat beside them, still dutifully peeling chestnuts like some Beta servant.
I stood quietly at the threshold between the kitchen and living room–watching, never invited.
That room was warm, bright, full of voices and attention.
This room–mine–was quiet, dim. Forgotten.
Sera’s voice rose with performative
sweetness.
“Kiera, why are you just standing there? Still
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mad at me for ruining your ceremony?”
The conversation screeched to a halt.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward me like I was a problem that had just come back.
Father’s brow furrowed.
“Kiera, come here. Don’t sulk.”
Mother gave me that impatient look–the one that always followed whenever Sera cried.
“You’re the one who picked that unfortunate date. Sera had just landed, we were all exhausted from the airport run. You know that, don’t you?”
Then came the dagger.
“If you’re going to be petty with your sister,
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then you’re no daughter of mine.”
Sera gasped, wide–eyed and full of faux
concern.
“Mom, don’t be so harsh. Kiera will feel
hurt…”
But her smirk said otherwise.
She knew my ceremony date. I told her a week in advance.
She even replied:
“Can’t wait! Got a surprise planned for you.”
Surprise, indeed.
Since we were pups, Sera had always managed to turn every situation into a test- one where the pack had to choose.
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They always picked her.
Even my mate chose her.
I should’ve felt something–anger, betrayal, sadness.
But there was only… stillness.
“I’m not angry.”
Those three words sliced through the tension like claws through bark.
Everyone stared.
Father blinked.
Mother narrowed her eyes.
Sera tilted her head with a mock–confused
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pout.
They had expected a tantrum, not serenity.
Which meant… they knew what they did would hurt me.
They just didn’t care enough to stop.
Father exhaled and forced a smile.
“Good. That’s good. We’re a pack. We don’t hold grudges.”
“Of course,” I said, nodding with perfect obedience.
It was the same voice I used to speak to the Elder wolves during full moon rituals.
The relief in their eyes was instant.
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Theyaviturned their attention back to Setara.
Dinner bebegan.
The maid aladad added several dishes besideses my meatload afercrab legs, lemon garlic scallops, allabesera’s favorites.
“You’re too thininaFather murmured, piling food onto her platete.
“Eat more. You’ll heeeed your strength before re the orchestral triallaM Mother added, dabbing g her eyes again.in.
Rafe chimed in with a grigrin.
“Don’t worry. If any of thoseseitoity wolves give you trouble, I’ll rip their throabats out.”
Sera laughed, her silver hair gledeaiming in the light.
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“No need. I’ve got this.”
They all chuckled.
I ate in silence, the warmth of the meatloaf f doing little to thaw the cold within me.
Then, for the first time that evening, Motherer glanced at me.
She hesitated. Picked up a spoonful of meatloaf and placed it on my plate.
“Try it. Don’t think we don’t care about you just because we fuss over Sera. I care about you too.”
The words felt… rehearsed. Like a line from a script she’d used too often.
I looked down at the food, then slowly set my
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utensils down.
“No. I’m full.”
Her expression shifted–first startled, then irritated.
“What’s wrong with you lately?”
She started to say more, but Sera suddenly clutched her throat, eyes wide.
“Mom… I… I can’t breathe-”
Her voice cracked, breath rasping.
She staggered backward, knocking over her chair.
Panic erupted instantly.
“Sera!” Mother screamed.
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“What’s happening?!” Father stood so fast the table shook.
Rafe was already at her side, sniffing her neck and face for signs of poison, his Beta instincts flaring.
“Her scent’s spiking–something’s wrong!”
My heart thudded in my chest, not from fear, but from the quiet, twisted irony of it all.
In the chaos, no one noticed me standing completely still–just watching.
Veyla’s voice stirred faintly in my mind.
“She’s not choking, Kiera. She’s shifting. Something inside her is waking.”
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