Legacy of the Wolf

Chapter Three

Mira's hands moved rhythmically as she swept the empty hall, the familiar task grounding her amid the swirling thoughts that plagued her every day. Autumn had transformed the forest outside into a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges, and yellows, but inside the pack hall, Mira's world felt cold and colorless.

With the Fall Festival only days away, the entire pack was busy. Members who had passed their trials were preparing for the Gathering, where wolves from nearby packs would join in the annual celebrations. As one of the few pack members who hadn't shifted, Mira had been relegated to tasks like cleaning and decorating the pack hall—far from the real action. A menial chore to others, but for Mira, it was just another reminder of her failure.

She was trying to make peace with it. The Blackwoods had assured her she'd find her strength in time, that the shift would come when she was ready. But their reassurances felt like half-truths, especially when they couldn't hide the shift in their behavior around the rest of the pack. Even their warmth at home had grown tinged with a subtle distance Mira could sense, as if they, too, were starting to believe she might never fully belong.

The crisp scent of cedar and pine filled the hall as she wiped down the tables, careful not to let the glassware clink too loudly. It was midmorning, and Mira was alone for now. Lyra had offered to help her with the decorations, but Mira had declined, not wanting to burden her friend with the lowly tasks that had become her responsibility.

When Mira set down her supplies and began unrolling garlands of orange and red, the weight of her restless nights settled heavily on her. Sleep hadn't come easily for weeks, and every night brought new dreams—her mother's kind but tired face, her father's commanding tone in the background. They were so vivid she could almost smell her mother's scent and hear the rumble of her father's voice. But each dream ended the same way, with her mother's frail hand slipping out of hers, leaving Mira feeling hollow when she awoke.

As she moved around the hall, adjusting the banners and fastening more garlands along the walls, Mira tried to shake off the dream's lingering effects. She had a long day ahead and little time to dwell on the past. The Fall Festival demanded perfection, and while others would be enjoying the festivities and vying for the Alpha's praise, she would be ensuring every detail was in order.

It was as she was setting the last garland along the wall that Mira heard two voices drifting down the hall. She froze, recognizing the deep, gravelly tone of one of the pack elders, Edric, and the calmer, measured voice of her Alpha, Alaric Blackclaw. They were deep in conversation, their voices low but clear enough that Mira could make out snippets of their words.

"...a shame, really," Edric was saying, his voice carrying a note of regret. "I often wonder if things might have been different."

Alaric's response was steadier, almost devoid of emotion. "Some choices cannot be taken back, Edric. You know this better than anyone."

There was a pause, and Mira held her breath, moving just a little closer to the doorway where she could catch more of their conversation without being seen.

"It was her parents' fate," Alaric continued, his voice almost a growl. "They were rebels. Their loyalty was a threat to everything I swore to protect."

Mira's heart stilled. She felt a chill crawl up her spine as she processed Alaric's words.

Edric sighed heavily. "Yes, but the girl... she has her mother's eyes. I sometimes wonder if she suspects."

"Suspects what?" Alaric's tone grew hard. "Suspects that her mother and father led a rogue pack in defiance of my rule? They were given every chance to swear loyalty to our way, to protect their own blood, and they refused. They knew what their choices would mean for her."