They Called Me Useless Until I Unleashed My Wolf

My name is Clara, daughter of Alpha Jason of the Riverbend Pack. Because the Moon Goddess personally blessed me at birth, the title of Alpha Heir fell straight into my lap. It should have been the ultimate honor. Instead, it became my cage. Growing up, I was the literal definition of dead weight. To the rest of the pack, the "blessed heir" was a running joke, weaker than the lowest-ranking Omega. Even now, on the cusp of twenty, I still haven't shifted or so much as heard a whisper from my inner beast. My siblings never let me forget it, constantly hounding me to surrender my birthright. But they have no idea. It's not that I'm wolfless—I just keep her locked away. And it's not that I lack power. I'm just too damn tired to use it. In my past life, I was the feared Queen of Rogues, a ruthless commander who bled and fought through countless brutal wars until I was completely burnt out. This time around? I just want to live the peaceful, lazy life of a professional slacker. Yet, I severely underestimated the sheer weight of an Alpha's crown. Every Hunting Festival, my father would look at me with desperate, hopeful eyes. "Clara, how much prey will you bring home today?" And every single year, I would either present a couple of pathetic rabbits or hide behind my siblings for protection. While they were out there sweating and shedding blood on the hunting grounds, I'd find a cozy, sun-drenched thicket and take a nap. With every miserable catch I brought back, the spark in my father's eyes dimmed a little more, replaced by bitter disappointment and a heavy, familiar sigh. I wasn't blind. If the Moon Goddess hadn't branded me herself, a certified failure—and a female, at that—would have been stripped of the heirship years ago. Over time, my siblings' attitude shifted from envy to blatant mockery and deep-seated resentment. That afternoon, freshly awoken from a nap, I stepped out of the packhouse and crossed paths with my older brother, George, and older sister, Anna. Their wolves trailed closely behind them, caked in mud—a clear sign they had just crawled back from the grueling training grounds. The moment George spotted me, a smug smirk crossed his face. "Clara, your twentieth birthday is tomorrow. Still no wolf of your own?" Unlike me, the pack's resident disappointment, George had been hailed as a prodigy since childhood. He dominated the Hunting Festivals and consistently ranked first at the Alpha Training Academy. The younger generation worshipped the ground he walked on, and lately, even the pack Elders had been pressuring my father to name George the official heir. I merely glanced at him, giving him nothing. Taking my silence as weakness, Anna chimed in with a cruel sneer. "Why even bother asking, George? You're just rubbing salt in the wound. Not only is Clara wolfless, but she probably won't even be able to scent her own fated mate." The two of them shared a look and burst into arrogant laughter. Even the guards stationed at the gates lowered their heads, poorly concealing their chuckles. I just yawned, walking right past them without breaking my stride. They were so incredibly tedious. So childish. Back when I was clawing my way through the dirt as a Rogue commander, I'd heard insults a million times worse than that. Eventually, I beat every single one of those mockers into submission. But in this life? I honestly couldn't care less. In fact, I secretly wished my father would just strip me of my title already. That way, I could finally be a full-time couch potato with a clear conscience. After all, my past life was exhausting enough to last me two lifetimes.