Wildborn

First Impressions

The ride into downtown Umbral Dawn started with a soft hum of tires over gravel and the warm buzz of summer heat filtering through the open windows of the sleek black SUV. Matteo, Gamma of the pack and their assigned escort for the day, sat comfortably behind the wheel. There was something effortlessly steady about him, protective and yet not strained with the pressure of leadership.

Bri sat in the backseat beside Sera in the middle, her grandmother Riona sitting gracefully by the other window, hands folded over her lap, quiet but observant as always.

Sera, as Bri had come to expect, was already in mid-monologue. "So that road there, it loops around to the west side where most of the older housing is located; like renovated homes from the 1800s. Super cool. Past that, there’s the elementary school and daycare. That building with the mural? That’s the community center. And see the greenhouse roofs over there? That’s the Pack’s agriculture hub."

Bri leaned toward the glass, eyes wide.

Rows of brilliant green crops rippled in the valley sun. "That’s a lot of peas."

"Montana’s largest exporter of sweet peas, actually," Sera said with a little smug pride. "We also do copper and timber. Agriculture, some manufacturing, a few logistics companies that help move things around the region. Most of it started small, family-run stuff that just kept growing over the generations."

She gestured toward the valley where fields and distant buildings dotted the landscape.

"Umbral Dawn’s been here a long time. When you’ve had a few centuries to put down roots, businesses have a way of multiplying."

Bri blinked, watching another stretch of farmland roll past the window.

"So the peas are your… corporate empire?"

Sera laughed. "Please. The peas are just our favorite bragging rights."

Bri glanced back out at the valley, impressed despite herself.

"Is there anything you all don’t do?"

"Not really," Matteo said with a chuckle from the front seat.

They soon started passing row after row of houses. Some were quaint and wood-sided, others ultramodern with solar-paneled roofs and glass walls facing the sunrise. Each property had land, privacy, and the unmistakable feeling of being tended to with care and pride. Children played in shaded yards. Even pack members in their wolf forms lounged in sunlit patches beneath the trees.

Sera suddenly paused and glanced at Bri. "Your mom said you were reading through the Lunebrook packet."

Bri perked up. “Yeah. It’s… a lot. But also really interesting. Especially the way they mix ‘regular’ school stuff with our world.”

She hesitated, then added with a small smile, “Grandma filled in some of the parts the packet kind of… glosses over.”

Sera’s eyebrows lifted with interest.

“Oh really?”

Bri nodded. “Yeah. Just things she remembers from when she was there. Some of the older traditions, the stories behind them.”

Riona said nothing from her seat by the window, but the corner of her mouth curved slightly.

Sera glanced between them, curiosity flickering across her face.

“Well now I’m intrigued,” she said lightly. “Did you see anything I can answer questions about?”

"Basketball," Bri said before she could overthink it.

Sera grinned like she’d just won something. "Oh, yes. The girls' team is amazing. We’ve been regional champions three years in a row. A couple of our Year Three's just graduated to the college track, which means some prime spots with playing time are opening up. Tryouts are the third week. And guess what our mascot is?"

Bri smirked. "A wolf?"

"Obviously."

"They're not just good," Matteo added over his shoulder. "They're fast, tactical, and smart. My son Galen says it's like watching an elite squad in motion."

"Galen?"

"Year Three," Sera said. "He’s out training with Kai, actually. You’ll probably meet him at the end of next week when they return."

That name again, Kai. The Alpha’s son. Eira stirred.

That triggered a memory. "The placement exam," Bri murmured, then sat up straighter. "The Lumen Praxis. What exactly is that? I was trying to figure out what to study."

Sera let out a soft laugh. "You can’t really study for it."

Bri frowned. "What?"

Matteo glanced at her through the mirror. "The Lumen Praxis, fondly referred to by the students as the Sorting Moon. It’s held at the start of Year Two. It’s not an academic exam. It's a trial. Four parts."

Sera ticked them off on her fingers. "One: The Echo Chamber. It gauges your psychological and magical resonance."

"Two: The Gauntlet," Matteo added. "Combat readiness. Strength, agility, endurance."

"Three: The Concordance Trial," Sera said. "They simulate a moral dilemma. You react. They assess."

"And four," Matteo finished, "The Medicum. Healing and field response. Sometimes you’re the one that has to pick up the pieces."

Bri blinked. "So basically... you can't cram for it."

You were hoping you could cram, Eira mused.

I like to control what I can control Bri admitted.

But this isn't about control. It's about revealing who you are.

So that includes what? Bri briefly felt panicked. That I'm Wildborn?

Before Eira could answer, her grandmother’s voice slipped softly into her mind. Don’t push them, little moon. There are things best said in private. We will speak tonight.

"Don't worry. Beta Antonio will talk you through what you need to prep for over the next month or so," Sera said, unknowingly interrupting the exchange. "And there will be support. You're not in this alone."

Before Bri could reply, the SUV rolled to a gentle stop.

"Welcome to downtown," Gamma Matteo said.

It was like stepping into a painting.

Downtown Umbral Dawn was rustic charm made real. Red-brick and timber-framed buildings lined the cobblestone streets. A crystal-clear creek ran through the center, flanked by stone bridges and leafy trees, the sound of running water mixing with soft acoustic music from a nearby busker. Fountains burbled cheerfully in the main square, and there were picnic areas and shaded courtyards scattered between flowerbeds and benches.

Shops lined the plaza: artisan bakeries, a vintage bookstore, several designer clothing boutiques, and a cozy-looking coffee shop with frosted windows. A banner across one street read: The Honeyfire Market - One Week Away!

Groups of teens lounged in clusters, sipping iced drinks or trying on sunglasses from outdoor racks. Children ran barefoot through the grass, and elders in rocking chairs watched from porches of the shops, occasionally offering a wave or word of greeting.

Their first stop was the electronics store. A bit out of place with its modern, stylish chrome fixtures and gleaming tech, however a necessity essential to the pack keeping up with the times. Matteo made sure Bri was equipped with the newest cell model, her number securely linked to the Pack's communications network for added protection until they were able to fully establish new identities.

Next came stops at a sleek apothecary for toiletries, a boutique perfumery, and a small general store for practical essentials.

"Each one of these is pack-owned," Sera explained as they walked. "This perfumery? My second cousin's. That bakery? Belongs to the Costas. The apothecary was opened by a Valerios healer and her mate."

They arrived at De Luca General Store, a cozy, wooden-beamed shop that smelled like cedar and old paper. A bell jingled overhead as they entered, and a tall man with curly hair and a wide smile greeted them warmly.

"Sera! Welcome! And this must be the newcomers I’ve heard whispers about."

"This is Bri, and her grandmother, Riona."

"A pleasure," the man said, bowing his head.

Inside, the store opened into a warm, bustling space that felt both timeless and quietly updated for the present. Thick wooden beams crossed the ceiling, their surfaces worn smooth by years upon year of polishing. Shelves built from dark pine lined the walls from floor to ceiling, stacked with glass jars of preserves, sacks of flour and sugar, locally milled grains, and neatly labeled tins of spices. A chalkboard above one section proudly listed the week’s fresh deliveries from nearby farms; berries, eggs, goat cheese, and honey from hives just outside town.

But woven among the old-world touches were unmistakably modern upgrades. Sleek refrigerated cases hummed softly along the back wall, filled with fresh produce, dairy, and prepared meals packaged in tidy compostable containers. A small bank of self-checkout kiosks stood beside a traditional wooden register, though the hand-lettered sign above them read: Cashier always happy to help.

Baskets of fresh bread and pastries from the Costa's bakery perfumed the air near the entrance, while a small refrigerated island displayed locally butchered meats and vacuum-sealed game cuts. Toward the center of the store, a row of polished metal racks held everyday essentials; cleaning supplies, toiletries, and neatly stacked household goods.

The whole place carried the quiet pride of something built to last: a family business that had grown with the town without losing the warmth of the generations who had run it before.

As they browsed, Bri noticed through the front window, an older man seated quietly on a bench out front. He was small, folded in on himself, but his eyes were keen. He watched everything, not in suspicion, but in reverence.

They wrapped up their purchases and were leaving, when Grandma Riona stepped out of the store, his head turned in her direction, and his body went still.

His eyes widened, and he slowly rose to his feet.

"Lunaris Dualborn," he whispered, voice cracked with emotion.

Riona smiled gently and walked to him, grasping his outstretched hands.

Bri stood and watched as the two stared at one another in silence, mind-linking.

That's the second time I have heard that name. Bri posed to Eira.

It's not a who Eira said.

Then Riona turned to them all.

"I believe it’s time for lunch."

The local diner was tucked between a sweets shop and an antique store, its neon sign flashing The Greasy Moon in soft pink and mint green.

The inside was like stepping into the 1950s. Vinyl booths, checkerboard floors, and a jukebox humming quietly in the corner. Chrome stools lined a counter where milkshakes spun in silver machines.

For a moment, Bri half expected Rand to push through the kitchen doors with a towel slung over his shoulder, or Meg to sweep past the tables with a stack of menus tucked under one arm. She could almost picture Alec sprawled in one of the corner booths, long legs stretched out and a lazy grin waiting for her to notice him.

The illusion lasted only a heartbeat before Sera’s boisterous voice pulled her back to the present.

"Valentina!" Sera called as a curvy woman in her mid-forties stepped out from behind the hostess stand. Her thick braid was coiled into a bun under a small hairnet.

"My girl!" Valentina cried, embracing Sera and then kissing Gamma Matteo on both cheeks. Her eyes landed on Bri and Riona. Her posture straightened slightly. "And who are these fresh new faces?"

Sera grinned. "Valentina, this is Bri and her grandmother."

"Welcome to The Greasy Moon. Come, sit in the back booth. Best view in the house."

They passed families and couples as they made their way across the room. And then—

"Soriah!" Sera exclaimed.

A striking girl turned from where she stood near the jukebox. Her long, jet-black hair was braided down her back, and her eyes, a rare, jade-kissed green, glimmered with gold flecks, fixed on Bri. Her posture was elegant and commanding, the kind of natural authority that made people step aside without being asked. Her features were striking; strong cheekbones, sun-warmed bronze skin, and a quiet steadiness that spoke of deep roots.

There was no mistaking the heritage in her face and Bri recalled her Riona's recent account of the old families who had been known for the bonds they formed with the Indigenous peoples of the northern territories, and that history lived plainly in Soriah. She carried it with unmistakable pride, like a young queen born of two ancient worlds standing easily in her own power.

Sera gestured. “Bri, this is Soriah. Captain of the basketball team. And Kai’s girlfriend.”

Soriah’s gaze shifted to Bri.

It was not unfriendly.

But it was unmistakably measuring.

The kind of look someone gave when deciding exactly where another person belonged in the world around them.

Bri straightened her spine.

And smiled.