Crowned by the White Wolf

Sera Vale was on her knees scrubbing the packhouse kitchen floor when the first gray light crept through the window. She had been awake since four. She was always awake before everyone else, because an omega who wasn't invisible by sunrise didn't last long in Redwood. Her brush scraped over a stubborn stain near the stove. Last night's gravy, probably, or Beta Holt's spilled wine. Either way, it would be gone before anyone stumbled in for breakfast, and nobody would wonder who had cleaned it. That was the deal. Do the work nobody wants, and nobody looks too closely. Inside her chest, something shifted. Nyx was pacing again, restless, claws clicking against the inside of her ribs the way they had all week. Not now, Sera thought. Please. Not today. Nyx didn't listen. She never did on days like this. Her wolf wanted out, wanted the forest, the wind, the whole wide world Sera had never been allowed to touch. Sera pressed a soapy hand flat against her chest and whispered, "Soon. I promise... I just don't know how." The kettle was already warm on the back burner. She poured herself a cup of moonroot tea and winced at the first sip. It tasted like dirt and pennies, bitter enough to make her eyes water. It had tasted that way every morning for six years. She drank it anyway. She always did. She had made a promise at her mother's grave, and she wasn't going to be the kind of person who broke it. “Drink it every day, Sera. Every single day.” “And never, ever let anyone see your wolf.” Her mother had gripped her wrist so hard it left marks. Sera had been sixteen, crying too hard to ask why. She still didn't know. She only knew that her mother had looked terrified, and her mother had never been afraid of anything. The kitchen door banged open. "Happy birthday, you absolute legend!" Bianca bounced in with her hair in a messy braid and a muffin in each hand, grinning like she'd won something. Sera laughed, the first real laugh of the morning. "You're awake before seven? Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" "Very funny." Bianca hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs. "It's your birthday. Mating Moon night. Do you really think I could sleep?" Sera's stomach flipped. "Don't remind me. I might actually throw up." "You will not." Bianca pointed a muffin at her like a sword. "You're going to walk out under that moon, feel the bond snap into place, and some gorgeous wolf is going to fall at your feet." "Gorgeous wolves don't fall at the feet of omegas," Sera muttered, scrubbing harder. "They step over them." "Not this one." Bianca slid off the counter and crouched beside her, bumping their shoulders together. "Hey. Look at me. You are the kindest person in this entire pack. Anyone who gets you will be the luckiest wolf alive." Sera's throat tightened. Bianca had been saying things like that since they were eight, since the day she'd split her lunch with the quiet girl who scrubbed the stairs. Without her, Sera wasn't sure she'd have survived this place. "Okay, that's enough," she said, wiping her eyes with her wrist. "You're going to make me cry into the floor water." "Good. Salt makes everything cleaner." Bianca stole a sip of the tea, gagged, and clutched her throat. "Goddess! How do you drink this? It smells like a swamp." "Practice," Sera replied, snatching the cup back. "And stubbornness." Bianca's grin softened. "Your mother's orders again?" "Yeah." Sera shrugged, though her hands tightened around the cup. "Don't ask me why. I just... can't break it." Bianca was quiet for a moment, picking at a muffin. Then, a little too casually: "Can I ask you something weird?" "You've never asked me anything normal in your life." "Ha. Ha." Bianca rolled her eyes. "Seriously. If the Goddess gave you a mate and the pack needed you to give him up... for something bigger, for everyone... would you?" Sera blinked. "Where did that come from?" "Nowhere." Bianca's smile came back too fast. "Just, Dad's been lecturing me all week about duty. He keeps saying I should 'think about the pack's future.' Like I'm a spreadsheet." "Well, I wouldn't," Sera admitted. "Give him up, I mean. I've waited my whole life for someone who'd choose me back." Something flickered across Bianca's face. Then it was gone. "Of course you wouldn't," she murmured. "You're a romantic. It's disgusting." Bianca's gaze drifted to the window, toward the Alpha's quarters across the courtyard. "Did you see Dominic yesterday? Standing there in that black coat, all tragic and brooding? Goddess, that jaw should be illegal." Heat crept up Sera's neck. Of course she'd seen him. She always saw him. She'd spent years memorizing the way he walked, the way he rubbed his temples when the elders argued, the way his eyes looked heavier every day since his father's funeral. "He's grieving," she mumbled, embarrassed. "It's not brooding." "Oh, it's definitely brooding." Bianca smirked, then gave her a sly look. "You're blushing, you know." "I am not." "Tomato," Bianca sang. "Actual tomato." Sera flicked soapy water at her, and Bianca shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. "Bianca." The voice from the doorway was cool and clipped, and all the laughter drained out of the room. Beta Holt stood there in a pressed gray jacket, arms folded, looking at the soapy floor like it had insulted him. "There you are. I've been looking for you for twenty minutes. The Alpha eats in the main hall today, and I want you at the high table. Properly dressed." "Dad, we were just talking..." "With the omega." He didn't even glance at Sera. "You have more important company to keep today, Bianca. Tonight matters. For all of us." Sera's grip tightened on the brush. She had a name. He knew it. He had known her since she was a child. He just never used it. "Yes, Dad," Bianca muttered. She squeezed Sera's shoulder once and whispered, "Save me a dance tonight, okay?" "Remember what the late Alpha always said," Beta Holt added from the doorway. "A strong Luna makes a strong pack." His eyes finally flicked to Sera, then away, like she was a smudge on a window. "Don't dawdle, girl. The floors won't scrub themselves." The door swung shut. Sera stared at it for a long moment. "Wonderful," she muttered to the scrub brush. "Another lovely conversation." By dusk, the whole packhouse smelled of roasted meat and nervous perfume. Sera had scrubbed, polished, and carried until her arms shook. She was still in her work dress when the bells started ringing across the clearing, calling every unmated wolf to the Mating Moon. She was halfway down the back corridor, tugging at her apron, when she nearly collided with someone. "Sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't..." She looked up, and the words died. Dominic Kane stood there in a black coat, one hand braced on the wall, those storm-dark eyes fixed on her face. He looked exhausted. He looked like he'd been running from something. "Omega," he began, then frowned, as if the word felt wrong. "You're... you're Vale. Sera Vale." Her heart slammed so hard she was sure he could hear it. "Y-yes, Alpha." He took a slow breath, nostrils flaring, like he was trying to place a scent. Then his jaw tightened and he stepped back. "Never mind," he muttered. "Go. You'll be late." Then he was gone, boots echoing down the corridor, and Sera stood frozen, one hand pressed to her chest. Nyx had gone completely still. For the first time in six years, the pacing had stopped. Sera swallowed. Outside, the bells rang again, and a thin silver glow was rising behind the pines. The Moon Goddess was waking. Nyx? she thought. What's wrong? For a long moment, nothing. Then, for the first time in her life, a voice answered. It was low, certain, and absolutely terrified. Whatever happens tonight, Nyx whispered, promise me you won't let go of me. Sera's blood ran cold. Her wolf had never spoken before. Not once. Not even when she'd cried herself sick at her mother's grave. And as the third bell shuddered through the walls, Sera pulled off her apron and walked toward the moon, toward her fate.