The Lycan Who Shouldn't Exist

The study smells of lotus and old paper. It always did — that particular blend of aged wood mixed with lotus and paper is like the signature of Vale Manor, a place that has seen too much and been through centuries. Two lamps burned on the desk, which lightens the whole room outside the tall window. The moon has already taken its place in the sky, fat and indifferent way above the treeline. Old man Vale sat behind his desk like a man who had never in his life faced discomfort, sitting still with his eyebrows almost touching each other. He was broad along his shoulders, even now, his white hair beautifully laid behind him, with jaws placed in a particular way that shows his very displeased_for the moment—he decided to remain civil. His hands were gently placed on the desk. He started tapping his two fingers together. That was a tell, that Mr Vale was carefully choosing his words and when he stops, you step back. Rowan stood near the window. Standing tall and indifferent, rumors have it he took the late Mrs Vale's height and his father's stubbornness, which made every conversation between the two a mini collision. “I honestly don't know where to start with you, Rowan, look how you pampered her.” The old man's voice was low, measured, not angry but very displeased. I know I love that child way too much, you know I do. But loving her and being blind about her are two different things, and you, as her father, are definitely blinded and can't see. “She's sixteen, Father. And by the way, did you just say pampered and sounded displeased? Who started it sir?” Old Vale stopped tapping his fingers together and sat upright. “Alright, I started it. She is my grandchild, and it is your duty as the father to train your daughter, but you chose to pamper her and when I stopped, you continued bravo.” He was almost shouting, totally agitated. He took a pause and took a deep breath. “She is sixteen and so is Selene. She showed her first sign at fourteen. Her mother's daughter, although barely fed when she arrived at this house at my doorstep, was still trained. She still pushed. And Nyra _” “Nyra is not Selene.” “No.” The old man rested his back against the chair. “She is not. Selene did not have a father who smoothed everything for her before she could feel it.” Rowan's jaw tightened. He turned back to the window, seeing the dark outline of the forest beyond the manor walls. “ You know what, dad? I won't say anything about this. Because what are you trying to imply? I treated my sister's child poorly and pampered my child?” He stopped talking because no answer would satisfy this oldman, and they both knew it. “Just because she has not shifted doesn't mean she is weak,” Rowan said finally. “She will shift.” “And when is that?” Vale stood, and even at his age, the room seemed to notice—that particular weight the man carries when he's the second strongest in the entire community. “I am not getting any younger, Rowan.” His voice was down and more calm. “And you…..” Then he continued: “My cultivation has stalled. I have been sitting at the fourth stage with the threshold in sight and I can't push through and if I don't break through I will die. If I get too old, I won't attain immortality if I don't break through to Spirit Wolf Stage,” he stopped and exhaled. Something passed across his face and he quickly folded away. “ I just have granddaughters. I love them, but the least I ask is for them to be strong, so our pack and the Vale name don't end in you. If I don't make it. “She trains _” “Not the way Selene trains.” The old man moved to the window beside his son and stood there looking out into the darkness. “I hear the talks, Rowan. In the market and the street, the Vale enemies seem to be rejoicing. Thanks to Selene, they are a bit threatened, and they might be planning happily,” he continued, a Vale granddaughter. Sixteen. No sign. No shift. No sign of a wolf. People are saying it quietly now." In a year they won't be quiet.” Rowan said nothing. He knew the talk. He had heard it too, in a way people hear things when they think you are too close to notice the half-second silence before conversation changes when you walk into a room. In a certain way, people look at his daughter with pity, dressed as politeness. “She is my daughter,” he said. “She is my granddaughter,” Vale replied. “That is exactly why I am saying this to you instead of letting you figure it out alone. Nyra Vale did not know there was a heated conversation going on in her grandfather's study. She was in the east study courtyard, which was where she ended up every evening—because it was one place where the air felt different in the manor. Cooler. Like something was always moving through It just you can't just find it but can feel it. She sat on a low stone wall, legs crossed with her book on her laps while staring into the void. The moon was full tonight. Her cousin said the full moon made them restless, made their wolves rise and press against the inside of their skin like something wanting to come out, so she paid attention to see if she could sense or feel it. Nyra felt nothing like that. She just felt the quiet night. A faint warmth somewhere behind her ribs and that might have been her imagination playing tricks on her and probably was. She was sixteen. She knew that knowledge in her chest. Like a stone, she learned to carry very well. Still in her thoughts, her sister interrupted her. “Still out here talking in the dark?” Selene appeared in the courtyard. Her hair was dark and loose, her training wrap still bound around her left hand. She is exactly Nyra’s age. She is living in a world where Nyra wishes she could, although they live together and eat the same food, for some reason, she can't get the same thing she wishes her body could just let her. “I was reading,” Nyra said. Selene glanced at the book, and hissed. And she sat beside her and held her shoulders. “Grandfather is in his Study,” she said, not as a question. “He is always in his Study.” “With your father.” Nyra continued looking at her book like she was reading, “I know.” Selene said nothing, which was the loudest thing she could say. The truth is none of them said anything. Selene came to the Manor when she was five with her mother, and her father was gone. And she became exactly what Vale required, her wolf already pressing the surface, visible to anyone who knew what to look for. And Nyra has been there from birth And there is nothing. No wolf. No shift. No sign. Nyra closed her book and stood The moon was full. And she felt nothing.