Wolf on the Rise

Chapter 1: Moonlight. Stella stepped onto the patio outside her pack's mansion, a wave of warm air washing over her. The fancy party hummed with conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses. The Aten wolf pack mingled around the manicured gardens and the pool, a sea of formal wear. Even the visiting Goldstone pack had put on a dress or a tuxedo. Right away, Stella spotted her father. The moon was high, and Alpha Robert stood with her aunt, Lena. Her dad's shoulders tensed, and his jaw worked, a sign of fury. Great. “Father." Stella presented her brightest smile. “You're late." Her father's voice was a dangerous rumble as he smoothed his silver tie. “I didn't think I'd have to stress how important this night is. A member of the Banks pack is here and brought a gift for you from Jefferson Noble. This is about uniting the Aten and Banks packs." “And I thought it was about changing into my wolf," Stella muttered under her breath. “Evening, Stella." Lena sipped on a champagne glass with her eyes twinkling, and a smirk on her lips, a clear sign she'd heard Robert's reprimand. Her father's sister always loved the arguments between Stella and her dad. “We need to get started. The moon is high." Lena's smile stretched, brittle like cracked glass. Stella nodded. Sure, she was late, but she made it. Weaving through the crowded patio, she brushed past a mix of pack members. She didn't know who was from the Banks pack, but it didn't matter. She'd never marry Jefferson Noble. The thought alone made her stomach burn. While she followed her aunt, Stella prayed the elders wouldn't mention her jeans and leather jacket. After a day slinging coffee at the café in town, she hadn't had time to change into fancy clothing. They also didn't have the money. However, no one here would know that. Pack Aten did a good job of hiding how truly broke they were. Beyond the pool, a wooden platform loomed at the edge of the gardens, a "Happy Twenty-First Birthday" sign taunting her from above. The sign screamed about her tardiness. Most wolves shifted for the first time at eighteen. She was late and had failed at this multiple times. That did seem to be her MO. The wooden space, erected before the garden, was sturdy enough to support her wolf form. The idea of being a wolf sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Tonight, she'd change under the moon. Turning into a wolf on command took years to master. Three steps led up to the stage. Stella stopped. Her father stood beside a table, the ancient Transformation Cup glowing in the moonlight. Next to him, Lena smoothed her long, silky dress, which accentuated her petite form. The crowd's murmur died. The music faded as her father ascended the stage. “Welcome to Aten's mansion!" the Alpha boomed, taking his position in the center of the platform. While he spoke, Lena's eyes raked over Stella in judgment. “Couldn't even have changed your clothes?" Her aunt spat. “I was working," Stella muttered. “But you wouldn't know anything about that. You only know how to spend money, not make it." “This is important, Stella." Lena's voice hissed. “Once you are a full wolf shifter, you can marry Jefferson Noble, and Aten will have all the money we want." Stella's eyes narrowed. She would never marry for money and just accept some old man, so that her aunt could keep shopping. Stella had the idea that if Lena weren't so old and if her aunt could still have children, her aunt would pursue Alpha Noble herself just to snag a wealthy husband. “Are you ready?" Their Archivist, Luis, the only human allowed at these events, whispered. “I'm going to change this time." God, Stella prayed that was true. She couldn't take another embarrassment. Her father motioned for Stella to stand next to him. A scattered round of applause touched the night. She stood in the center of the stage, a tremor of fear and excitement running through her. Aunt Lena followed her, a strange glint in her eye. Her aunt handed Stella the goblet of sweet red wine. The Transformation Cup wasn't magical or anything, but drinking the wine was an old symbolic tradition dating back centuries. Because the cup was part of the ceremony, Stella took a long drink. She coughed, the wine's bitter taste coating her tongue. Then Stella handed the cup back to her aunt. Everyone cleared the stage. Whispers, like rustling leaves, touched the air. Would she do it this time? Unzipping her jacket, Stella shrugged it off, the cool night air chilling her skin. Then she stripped off her black boots, socks, and jeans. Since she knew she had to remove her clothing, she'd chosen a black bikini swimsuit for her undergarments. Once she was a wolf, the clothes would rip. It was a small price to pay. Stella lifted her arms to the moon. The audience held their breath. The night petted her spine. A shift stirred in her soul. Something inside her felt wild, a primal calling twisting in her veins. Was this her wolf on the rise? Her eyes snapped open, and she scanned the crowd, her gaze darting from face to face. Who was she searching for? Some part of her whispered that she was looking for her boyfriend, Holden. No. Holden could never be here. He was a human, and a human would never be allowed to watch a wolf transform. The law was clear. That would mean Holden's death. The air shimmered, then cracked. A searing heat ignited in her chest, blossoming outward. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. Nothing. Murmurs, like venomous whispers, rippled through the crowd, drawing her attention. To her right, her aunt's lips curled into a triumphant grin. “A wolf-less omega," Lena purred, the words dripping with false sympathy. “No." Stella's arms dropped, her fists clenched, nails digging crescent moons into her palms. All eyes drilled into her, a thousand needles piercing her skin. Her world tilted and spun into a nightmarish blur of faces and pity. The ground beneath her swayed like a ship in a storm. A cold, hollow ache expanded in her chest, spreading like frostbite. The primal hum in her veins, just moments ago a promise, now shrieked in agony. Her soul felt hollowed out, an empty vessel where a powerful wolf should've roared to life. Scanning the onlookers, Stella's panic surged. She couldn't face her pack. The pity, the disappointment, the barely concealed disdain—it was a physical weight pressing down. She needed someone. Someone to hold her as her world shattered. Stella needed Holden. She grabbed her clothing and then launched herself off the stage. The soft thud of her feet on the grass was lost in the buzzing humiliation. Stella ran.