Chapter 3

(Siena's POV)

The city conspires against me; its unrelenting tide of traffic a cruel taunt in the face of my speed and desire to reach Father.

Brake lights glow like burning embers ahead, stretching into the distance, a sea of red frustration. My grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white as I will the line of vehicles to move.

The radio drones in the background, the host’s voice laced with pure and unadulterated disdain.

“...She’s just a useless vase of a Luna! She’s enlighted and doesn’t deserve her post next to our great King…”

A sharp pang stabs through my chest, anger igniting deep in my belly. With a growl, I slam the power button, cutting off the sneering jests that plague my every step, but the silence is no better, seeking to feed on the anxiety that churns so violently through my core.

Father is waiting. He’s…

I shake my head, not willing the inevitable to be true. How can it be true? How will I go on…without him?

Breathe Siena.

As if the Moon herself hears my internal scream, the cars seem to part. Breaking through the sea of steel, I weave through the streets with reckless urgency. The pulse of my heart beats thunderously through my ears as the towering gates of Windhowl pack loom before me.

The compound that was once so rich and full of life has darkened of late as if it, too, knew deep in its bones of the tragedies to come.

My foot won’t release the pedal any more than I can release the panic, the guards having barely enough time to scatter as tires screech against gravel, sending specks of dusty sorrow in the air.

The heavy oaken doors, doors that have seen many passings of the Alphas that came before us, slam open. The packhouse stands eerily silent, draped in an unnatural stillness, as if death has become it.

The usual sounds—warriors sparring, the barks and giggles of pups, the scent of fresh meats and breads from the kitchens—all are dead.

Instead, sorrow hangs in the air, thick, choking. My breath hitches; something is terribly wrong.

Have I run out of time? Is it too late?

“Rairity!”

My voice slices through the silence.

Hasty footsteps echo from the hallway; my assistant emerges from the shades of the staircase, a torch burning ominously in her hand.

Her face is tight with grief. “Siena, he’s…he’s–”

Rairity voice cracks. “Come quickly; he doesn’t have much more time. We’ve cut the lights; he says it gives the eyes of his wolf more comfort.”

I don’t wait. There’s nothing else for me to say. I need to see him.

Sprinting up the stairs, each step hammers against my chest like a drum beat from dred or the wars of the old times. I sprint toward my doomed fate. The hallway stretches endlessly, and the heavy wooden doors of my father’s lair open like the mouth of a beast.

Rickard stands guard at the door.

“Siena–”

I tear past him.

“...Papa! ” I choke, rushing to his side.

His eyes flicker open, dim, in agony, but somehow still holding the fierce love I have known all my life.

“Siena,” he whispers, his fingers twitching weakly. I catch his hand, gripping tightly as if I could somehow tether him, anchor him in this world.

Tears blur my vision. “I’m here. I got here.”

Then, just as the flame of a candle flickers the last of its light, he exhales slow, painful sounds. “…I knew you were strong, Siena. Stronger than I could ever hope for, stronger than I could ever be…”

“Papa, don’t say that,” I whisper, shaking my head. You’re the best alpha Windhowl had ever had.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. “No, my girl. I was…I was a failure. I led this pack into ruin. But you—you could be different. You could have ruled over Windhowl.”

The words land, a searing punch to my soul that I did not expect. “Papa, please—”

“I regret that one thing, letting you marry into Silverfang. You should have been here, leading. Not…not sacrificed for politics or love, Siena. “His breath catches, his fingers tighten around mine before going slack.

“....Papa?” Panic surges. “Papa!”

...But he is gone.

The great flame of Windhowl has been extinguished.

The Alpha is no more.

The weight of grief crashes over me, swallowing me up without mercy or complaint. I am drowning in its unforgiving tide.

The room blurs as I clutch his lifeless hand, my body trembling with the sobs of a daughter, of a people.

Around me, murmurs of mourners begging to fill the space, pack members gather, whopper, grieve.

Then, the reality strikes a merciless blow.

The Windhowl Pack is drowning in debt. Without an Alpha, we stand leaderless, vulnerable. The check I brought—a feeble attempt to help—is a mere drop in an ocean of ruin.

Turning to where my younger brother stands, his pale face stares back from the doorway. Too young. Too inexperienced.

He cannot take this on.

Rairity clears her throat. “Siena,” she hesitates, settling a kind hand on my still trembling shoulder. “The council will need to decide. Without an alpha, the pack…we’re defenseless. We may have no choice but to place our future in Raiden’s hands; we could see the need to annex.”

Absorb us; this legacy that my father has built? This community that Raiden knew nothing or cared even less about?

My breath catches. My phone buzzes, the screen lighting up his name.

Raiden. Killer of hearts.

[From Raiden:

Stop messing about. There is a Gala tomorrow, and I expect your presence. Be back inside pack grounds before the sun sets.]

I swallow hard; the lump in my throat grows. Another message follows

[Don’t make me repeat myself, Siena. You will do as you’re told.]

My fingers tremble—a hollow ache spreads like an infection through my chest. I sense the eyes of the back resting on my form, but I cannot bring myself to console them, not yet.

This is the man that I chose over my pack. The man my father regretted me marrying untill his very last breath. And now, when I need him the most, he dismisses my grief like an inconvenience.

Something inside me shatters.

The last illusion of love, of loyalty—they are dead.

“Siena?”

Rairity’s voice is somewhere in the back of my mind.

I block the number.

The silence fills the room. It’s swallowing us all now. Every eye turns to me, waiting. They need a leader.

My father’s words echo in my mind.

You could’ve ruled Windhowl.

Lifting my chin, my voice steady despite the storm that rages on inside. “I’ll do it.”

I face Rairity. She blinks, “Do what, Siena?”

“I’m taking over, Rairity. I am acting Alpha henceforth.”

Standing, I face the grouping of my pack embers. “Effective immediately, I am acting as leader of Wolfhowl Pack.”

A murmur ripples through the room.

Doubt. Shock. Hope?

“Siena, you’re married into Silverfang. They won’t—”

“Silverfang is not my home, not my pack,” I cut in, voice sharp, a growl rumbling just low enough to let Rairity know she is treading on dangerous territory.

“Windhowl is my pack, my family, all of you. It is my duty to step up and an honor to lead you all into the next era.”

Under everyone's shocked gaze, I slowly lifted my head.

For the first time in a long time, I feel something other than grief. I believe it is purpose.

To whatever end that may be, I will not fail.

"I, will become the Alpha,"

I say.