003: The Daughter Who Didn't Count
1350 Words
Lyra's POV.
The hallway was quiet now. Guards had taken Rowan away. My mother had vanished upstairs. The rest of the pack cleared out, whispers trailing behind them. No one dared to say it loud, but I knew what they were thinking.
Our Alpha heir was out of his mind.
I walked into the destroyed dining hall. Broken plates on the floor. Blood smeared on the wood. One of the chairs was still rocking slightly. My father stood by the window, hands behind his back, staring out into nothing.
His shoulders were tight, like they’d been for months. But now, something else sat on them. Defeat.
I stepped closer. “Dad.”
He didn’t look at me. “Go to your room, Lyra.”
“I need to talk to you.”
His jaw tightened. “Later.”
“No. Now.”
He turned around. His eyes looked sunken, ringed with dark circles. There was no Alpha fury left in them. Just tiredness. Disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” he muttered. “That my son is losing his mind? That the pack is falling apart? That we’ve been getting rogue attacks every damn week and losing warriors we don’t have? Supplies are low. Borders are thin. Our people are scared. And now this.”
He gestured at the wrecked room.
“No one sees us as strong anymore, Lyra. Not after everything. And Rowan…” his voice cracked before he pulled it back. “Rowan was the only hope we had left.”
I swallowed, took a shaky breath, and stepped closer. “Then let me do it.”
He blinked. “Do what?”
“I’ll take his place,” I said. “I’ll become Alpha.”
Silence.
He stared at me like I’d grown another head. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“No,” he said sharply, laughing bitterly. “No, I must’ve misheard. Because it sounded like my daughter…my eighteen-year-old daughter…just told me she wants to become Alpha.”
“I’m not saying it because I want the title,” I said. “Rowan’s not okay. And someone needs to step up. Someone who knows the pack. Who’s trained. Who can fight.”
“You are not serious,” he said, stepping away from me. “Lyra, you’re not thinking straight.”
“I am. I’ve never been more clear in my life.”
“You’re a girl!” he snapped. “Just a girl!”
I flinched, but held my ground. “Exactly. I got rejected today. My mate looked me in the eyes and rejected me like I was nothing. Do you know what that means?”
He didn’t answer.
“It means the Moon Goddess has other plans for me. It means I wasn’t meant to follow someone…I was meant to lead.”
My father’s eyes burned. “That’s not how it works.”
“Why not?”
“Because no woman has ever been Alpha!”
“Not in three centuries,” I said. “But why? Because they weren’t strong? Or because no one gave them a chance?”
“You’re not listening!” he shouted, stepping toward me. “This pack is barely holding on! The last thing we need is to make a damn joke of ourselves by putting a girl on the Alpha’s seat!”
I blinked. My throat felt tight. “You think I’d be a joke?”
He didn’t speak. Just looked away.
“You’d rather let this pack burn than let me try?” I whispered.
“Lyra, I’m sorry about your rejection,” he muttered, his voice low and angry. “But this…this is insane. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying.”
He ran a hand through his hair, paced once, then turned on me again. “I’ve got enough problems, Lyra. Don’t add to them. This pack is already a laughing-stock. Making you Alpha…” his lip curled “...that would be the most abominable thing we’ve ever done.”
My chest caved in a little.
His words cut deeper than I expected.
He looked at me one last time, eyes cold. “Go to bed.”
Then he turned and walked out.
And I just stood there, in the middle of the wreckage.
Alone.
I sank to the floor the moment the door slammed behind my father.
My knees hit hard, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. My chest caved in as I gasped, and then it all came pouring out. The tears I’d held in since Kaelen rejected me. Since Rowan lost his mind. Since my father looked me in the eye and told me I’d never be enough.
But it wasn’t Kaelen’s rejection that broke me.
No.
That pain stung. It left a bruise I’d carry for a long time. But this.. this was worse. This ripped something deeper. Watching everything fall apart and being told I couldn’t fix it. That I wasn’t allowed to try. That I didn’t matter enough to even be considered.
I pressed my forehead to the cold floor, my arms wrapping around myself. My cries weren’t soft. They were ugly and raw and loud. My breath hitched with every one, and I didn’t even try to stop.
‘Lyra.’ Nira's voice came gently in my head, my wolf. She sounded tired too. Small.
‘Please… stop crying.’
I shook my head, eyes shut tight.
“I can’t,” I told her. “I can’t do this.”
My voice broke inside my mind like it would if I spoke it out loud.
Everything was gone. Our family… falling apart. My mother looked like she couldn’t even breathe when Rowan collapsed. My father…he was holding on by strings. And Rowan… he was not even Rowan anymore.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to break something.
And the worst part? No one saw me. No one wanted to.
My wolf whimpered inside me, retreating to a quiet place I couldn’t reach. I was alone with the mess.
So I cried. I cried for Kaelen. For Rowan. For the father I used to believe in. For the family that was slipping through my fingers like sand.
And then…
A sudden noise pulled me out of myself. Loud footsteps. Voices at the front of the packhouse. I rubbed my eyes, still sitting on the floor, listening.
Warriors. More than a few. Strangers.
I pulled myself up, legs shaking. My body still felt numb as I moved to the nearest window, wiped the tears off my cheeks, and peeked through the curtain.
They were here.
Warriors. Messengers. The kind that only came when something serious was happening. They wore black, the sigil of the high council gleaming across their chests.
They bowed to my father, who stepped out to greet them. My mother followed, her face pale, eyes red. My heart twisted at the sight of her.
One of the messengers handed my father a scroll. He broke the seal and read. Slowly. Carefully.
His face didn’t change much, but I saw the tight clench of his jaw. His hand shook for half a second before he steadied it. Then he nodded and took the crest they offered…a small golden pin shaped like a wolf’s head.
I stared at it.
My eyes widened.
No. No, he wasn’t…
He couldn’t be.
He wouldn’t send Rowan.
He couldn’t send Rowan to the Alpha Academy. Not like this. It would be a disaster.
But he held that crest like it meant everything. Like he’d already made up his mind.
I turned my head slowly, looking at the rest of the pack who had gathered outside. Everyone stood still. Faces tight. No one said a word. Some stared at the ground. Some looked at my father like they wanted to scream. I caught the way my mother swayed slightly on her feet, and how the Beta reached out to steady her.
But no one spoke.
Because everyone knew what I did.
If Rowan went there… he wouldn’t make it.
- Writer
