The morning came like a slap to the face, bright, fast, and loud with knocking.
The maids were already at our door before the sun had fully risen, just as expected, if not earlier. Their arms were full of polished boots, freshly steamed tunics, gold-edged pins, heavy belts with too many buckles, and all the other ridiculous little details that made us look the part. Like kings. Like warriors. Like the sort of alphas the council would bow to without question. That was the point, after all. Appearances.
I sat on the edge of my bed while one of the older maids knelt in front of me, tugging my boots into place with trembling hands. Another stood at my back, carefully fastening the collar of my black shirt. The fabric was stiff, the gold thread itching slightly at my neck, but I didn’t move. My mind was quiet. Blank.
I let them dress me like they were preparing a weapon for battle.
And in a way, they were.
I glanced around the room, out of habit, searching the faces. Familiar women, maids who’d been here for years, most of them too afraid to breathe too loudly when we were around. They all looked the same this morning. Faces down. Hands moving fast. Eyes avoiding mine.
But one face was missing.
I didn’t want her around this morning anyway.
She was probably sulking somewhere. Curled up in one corner of the palace, still trying to recover from whatever new scar she’d added to her collection. Still hugging herself in the dark like it would change something.
"Where’s the human girl?" I asked lazily, letting my eyes drift toward one of the older maids.
"She...she wasn’t informed to assist this morning, Alpha," the woman stammered.
"Fix that," I said coldly. "Teach her how to dress us. And from now on, she assists. I want her present. Always."
"Yes, Alpha," the maid bowed, retreating fast like her feet were on fire.
I stood once I was dressed, Damon and Ramon already waiting by the door. We didn’t need to speak, we never did before a council meeting. We just moved like one body, one force. And that was enough to shake anyone in our way.
As we walked through the main hall, guards stood straighter. Maids stepped aside with wide eyes. Even the elders nodded low, their heads barely lifting.
Respect was one thing.
Fear... that was better.
We entered the council chamber. The room was built of black stone and heavy wood. A long table stretched through the middle, carved with the ancient markings of the Moon Circle. The elders were already seated, stiff and silent. Our Beta, Belinda’s father, stood when we entered, bowing slightly.
He always bowed lower than the rest. He had more to prove. Or more to gain.
We took our seats at the head of the table, one after the other. Damon on my right, Ramon on my left. I folded my hands in front of me and gave a slow nod.
The matters were the usual: border patrols, rogue sightings, grain storage, trade routes. The kind of reports that didn’t need all three of us to handle, but we showed up anyway. Power is loudest when it enters a room and says nothing. Just being there was enough.
Damon handled most of the security updates, speaking in that calm, clipped voice of his. His tone never changed, even when he was talking about a rogue tearing a patrol member in half. Ramon kept the conversation moving when it came to supplies, food shortages near the outer farms, price fluctuations with neighboring packs, how much grain we could afford to trade without risking our winter stockpile.
Watched the old men across the table squirm under our silence. Watched them fumble with their scrolls and numbers and words like schoolboys in trouble. All of them were so careful...so careful...not to speak too long, not to sound unsure, not to make the wrong kind of eye contact.
Every time one of us shifted in our seat, they flinched.
I liked that. It meant they still remembered who really ran this place.
Then the Beta cleared his throat.
I looked up, narrowing my eyes.
It was deliberate, the way he did it, soft but timed. Not rushed. Not panicking. Just enough to gather attention. Just enough to say, "Listen to me now."
My fingers drummed once against the table. Damon turned his head slightly, sensing the change. Ramon’s fingers tapped in a rhythm that stopped cold. Tension ran under the surface like a wire pulled tight.
"There is... one more matter to address," the Beta said.
His voice was smooth, polite, but I could hear it, the layer of something else under it. Expectation. Ambition.
"It is about Luna’s position."
"The Luna role remains empty," the Beta continued, his voice steady but far too confident for my liking. He looked around the room slowly, as if seeking support from the others seated at the table,elders, advisors, men too old to lead but too proud to fade quietly. Cowards in robes.
I sat motionless, watching his every word.
"It’s tradition, as you know," he went on, "that Luna comes from the Beta’s bloodline."
He said it like it was law. Like it had been written in the stones of the mountain. His chest lifted slightly, puffed with a pride he hadn’t earned in years.
"My family," he added, "has always produced women fit to rule beside the alphas."
"Women who understand our customs. Our strength. Our laws."
I heard the unspoken part just beneath his words, Not her. Not Lisa. Not the human girl who could barely hold eye contact with any of us. Not the one who flinched every time a door opened too fast.
His tone was respectful, but his eyes burned with quiet arrogance. And that made something in me shift.
He paused then, giving his words time to settle in the air. Manipulative. Deliberate. He knew what he was doing.
"And with due respect," he said, his gaze now fixed firmly on me, "my daughter, Belinda, has been raised for this her entire life."
"She is ready," he said. "The pack awaits Luna. They’re starting to whisper. To wonder. Alphas with no Luna. No heart beside the crown."