The Alpha's Curse, The Mafia's Queen

Selena’s POV I moved along the forest path with a coil of rope slung lightly over my shoulder, the morning air cool and crisp against my skin. Distant voices and the rustle of bodies already warming up drifted through the trees. The pack had gathered for training, and by the time the clearing opened before me, a small, stubborn smile had settled on my lips. The training ground buzzed with life. Young wolves my age clustered in loose groups, stretching, joking, and shaking out their limbs in anticipation of the morning run. For a fleeting second, I let myself pretend I was one of them. That I belonged here. I adjusted the rope in my hands and started forward—until a voice cut through the air. “Selena Aria.” I froze mid-step. No one used my full name. Not unless they were an elder… or about to deliver bad news. Slowly, I turned. A man leaned against a thick oak a short distance away, arms crossed, watching me. The early light filtered through the branches above him, framing his face in shifting patterns of gold and shadow. He was one of the pack’s lead warriors, the one responsible for shaping the next generation of fighters. His posture looked casual, but there was nothing casual about the quiet authority radiating from him. “Yes?” I asked. “What are you trying to do, Selena?” I opened my mouth, but he lifted a hand before I could answer. “I know,” he said calmly. “I’m just asking.” He pushed off the tree and walked toward me with slow, deliberate steps. When he reached me, he tapped my shoulder lightly, almost kindly, and offered a small smile. “I can see how eager you are to run. So tell me—what’s your aim for today’s training?” The smile came back before I could stop it. “I’m going to be the fastest one out there,” I said honestly. He let out a soft, amused chuckle. “I believe you. That look on your face says you’ve already planned your victory lap.” Warmth bloomed in my chest. It was rare—painfully rare—for anyone to speak to me without that careful distance or thinly veiled pity. For a moment, it felt good. Normal. Then his tone shifted. “But you can’t join them.” My smile died. I glanced around, half-expecting him to be addressing someone else, but there was no one behind me. “Me?” I asked, confused. “I’m not even late.” “I know.” My stomach twisted. “Then why—” “Today’s training isn’t about running,” he continued, voice steady and final. “It’s about preparing the ones who will defend this pack when war comes. It’s about training those with wolves.” The words landed like stones. Without waiting for my response, he walked past me toward the group of young shifters. I turned slowly, watching as he joined them. The energy in the clearing changed instantly. Wolves stretched deeper, cracked their necks, rolled their shoulders—focused, serious, ready. The playful atmosphere I’d walked into had vanished. I stood there, still clutching the useless rope, feeling like an outsider in the only home I’d ever known. Then came the sound of small, rapid footsteps. “Selena!” I turned just as Nyra barreled toward me, three other children trailing behind her with bright, excited faces. The moment I saw her, the knot in my chest loosened. Nyra grabbed my hand without hesitation, beaming up at me. “You promised you’d tell us a story today!” Before I could even answer, she was tugging me away from the training ground, her little legs pumping with determination. I hesitated, glancing back one last time. The warrior was still speaking to the others, but as if he felt my gaze, he lifted his head. Our eyes met across the clearing. Something unreadable passed between us—something that made my pulse flicker—before Nyra yanked my hand again. “Come on!” she insisted, laughing. I let out a quiet breath and let the children pull me away. Together we headed deeper into the forest, toward the warm crackle of the fire the pack had lit to keep the youngest ones comfortable while the rest trained. Away from the wolves. Away from the life I could never quite touch. Just the girl without one.