To Choose An Alpha

RAVENNA. The wind was colder than usual this morning. It bit through my threadbare cloak as I stepped out of the healer’s tent, a bundle of herbs tucked under my arm. The scent of yarrow and burdock clung to my skin, earthy and sharp, grounding me more than anything else in this cursed pack ever had. I kept my head down as I walked, the same way I always did. Better to look small and invisible than invite attention. Around here, attention meant cruel eyes, whispered slurs, and the occasional shove when no one was looking. “Wolfless freak,” someone muttered as I passed. I didn’t look up. I never did. I had learned long ago that no good came from fighting words with words. Not when your mother had been beheaded in the center of the pack for treason. Not when your wolf never came, even when the moon sang to everyone else but you. “Witchspawn,” another voice added with a snicker. I tightened my grip on the herbs and walked faster, heart pounding though my face remained calm. I had trained myself to show nothing, not even flinch. It was the only armor I had left. “Ravenna!” I froze, startled, then turned toward the familiar voice. Sora. She came running across the training yard, her dark hair unbound, boots caked in mud, and her smile as unbothered as ever. “I’ve been looking for you all morning,” she said, breathless. “Where’ve you been hiding?” “I wasn’t hiding,” I replied softly, though I knew it wasn’t convincing. “I was restocking the supplies. Mistress Thalia needed feverfew.” Sora rolled her eyes. “You’re always doing something for Mistress Thalia. I’m starting to think she likes you more than her own apprentices.” “She doesn’t.” “She does,” Sora insisted. “You’re her favorite. Don’t argue.” I let out a small sigh and adjusted the bundle in my arms. “What do you want, Sora?” Her eyes sparkled, and that never meant anything good. “Did you hear?” she asked, bouncing on her toes. I raised a brow. “Hear what?” “They’re calling for healers. Gifted ones. Across all of Elvarim. The Royal Luna is sick. Dying, they say. And the palace is desperate.” My stomach twisted. “And?” “And?” she echoed, aghast. “And you have to apply.” “No.” “Yes!” I shook my head. “I’m not applying. That’s for real healers. Gifted ones.” “You are gifted.” I gave her a flat look. “I’m wolfless.” “So?” She folded her arms. “Doesn’t change your hands. I’ve seen you close wounds in seconds, Ravenna. I’ve seen you save people no one else could. If that’s not a gift, I don’t know what is.” “They won’t pick me.” “You don’t know that.” “They’ll see my name and laugh.” “They won’t even see your name. Mistress Thalia said she’d send in your application anonymously.” I stiffened. “She’s in on this?” “She wants you to go,” Sora said gently. “She believes in you.” That made something ache in my chest. Mistress Thalia, for all her sharpness and strict rules, had been the only adult to ever look at me without disdain. She taught me everything she knew, even when I wasn’t officially allowed to apprentice. I owed her more than I could say. “I’m not meant for places like that,” I whispered. “I’m a nobody.” “You’re not a nobody to me.” That made me look at her. Really look. Sora, with her wildness and her softness, the Alpha’s second daughter who never quite fit into the perfect mold her sisters did. She was nobility, and yet they whispered about her, too. Too strange. Too kind. Too much. “You know they’d kill me if they found out who I was,” I said. “Then don’t let them find out,” she said simply. “Hide it like you always do. Just… try.” I stared down at my hands, still stained with crushed rosemary. Try. It felt so useless. But something deep inside me, it stirred. Hope and fear, twisted so tightly I couldn’t tell them apart. “When’s the selection?” I asked. “Two days,” she said. “We’d have to ride out tomorrow to the Pack Central so you can get picked.” I laughed, dry and bitter. “You sound so sure I will be.” “Because I am.” I shook my head, but I didn’t say no again. I didn’t say yes either. We both knew that was the closest to agreement I’d come. Later that night, I stood in the healer’s hut, lighting the lamps one by one. The wind howled outside, rattling the wooden shutters, and I could hear the low growls of wolves training in the clearing beyond. It made my skin prickle. Mistress Thalia came in, her robes swishing behind her. “I hear Sora got to you,” she said without preamble. “She’s very persuasive.” Thalia gave a small smile. “She is. But she’s right.” “I’m not like them. I’m not even…” “Do you think healing is something wolves alone can do?” she interrupted, voice sharp. “No.” “Good. Because I’ve seen many wolves with powerful beasts in their veins who couldn’t stitch a wound if their lives depended on it. Your mother…” she paused. “Your mother wasn’t a traitor, Ravenna.” My breath caught. “What?” “ There were whispers. She was loyal to the old Alpha. When he was killed, her enemies made sure she went down with him. But she never…” No one had ever said that to me before. Not once. Not in all these years. “Why are you telling me this now?” I whispered. “Because you need to know what kind of blood runs through your veins before you go to the palace, isn’t one of a traitor but one stemmed in strength and loyalty. ” I swallowed hard. “I haven’t been accepted yet.” “You will be.”