A Voice In The Storm

The grand hall of the pack house buzzed with murmurs and thick tension. Warriors stood in rigid rows, elders sat with unreadable expressions, and the rest of the pack filled the space with anticipation. They hadn’t seen Alpha Derek like this in a while—not since the Luna was chosen.

When he finally appeared at the head of the hall, flanked by guards, the entire room fell silent. His towering frame radiated power. His jaw was tight, eyes cold, and posture demanding authority.

“I’m not here to beg,” Derek’s voice sliced through the silence. “And I don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

Murmurs stirred again, but his next glare silenced them.

“I chose to be absent the day the Luna was introduced. That was my decision. If you have a problem with it, take it up with me directly.”

One of the elders, a graying man named Warren, rose. “Alpha, with all due respect… how can we accept a Luna who cowers in corners and can't even shift properly? You’ve always demanded strength. Why lower the standard now?”

A ripple of agreement rolled through the room.

Derek’s face didn’t change. He crossed his arms. “Whether you agree or not, she was chosen. What you do with that information is up to you—but she remains in the position until I say otherwise.”

That was all he said. Cold. Final.

Then, the boos came.

“She’s weak!”

“She hides during full moons!”

“She doesn’t even speak in meetings!”

Diva stood at the side of the room, flanked by two guards. Her heart raced, palms clammy. Every word stung. Every insult sliced.

She had never been meant to lead. She hadn’t asked for this. And yet, here she was.

Derek said nothing. He didn’t defend her. He didn’t even glance her way.

Then something shifted.

Diva took a breath. One step forward. Then another.

“May I speak?” her voice rang out—softer than a shout, louder than a whisper.

The room turned.

Derek looked at her, his eyes narrowing, as if surprised she had a voice at all.

Diva walked to the center of the hall, her shoulders trembling. “You’re right,” she began. “I am not the strongest. I haven’t fought wars or led hunts. I don’t roar like the rest of you.”

Silence.

“But I’ve been surviving battles none of you see. Battles in my mind. In my body. Every day.” Her voice shook but held firm. “I was forced into a world I wasn’t prepared for. And still—I’m here. I didn’t run. I didn’t break. I’ve endured. Maybe that doesn’t make me strong to you. But it makes me something.”

No one spoke.

“I didn’t choose this role. But I will not let it crush me. And if I’m going to be your Luna, then I’ll learn. I’ll fight. I’ll rise. You won’t remember me as the weak girl in the corner—you’ll remember me as the one who stood when everyone else wanted her to fall.”

The silence was deafening.

Even Derek’s jaw clenched, eyes unreadable.

One of the young warriors near the back let out a quiet, “Damn.”

Warren blinked. “Well… that was unexpected.”

Diva didn’t wait for applause. She bowed her head slightly and walked back to her spot. The room remained quiet, unsure how to respond.

Above them, unseen in the high shadows, Ronan’s spy watched.

Hours later, in the forest clearing just beyond the territory’s border, the spy knelt before Ronan.

“We couldn’t go through with it,” he said. “She gave a speech. It… stirred something in the pack.”

Ronan’s face twisted in irritation. “So?”

“The guards were more alert. The crowd was unpredictable. Too many eyes. If we’d moved in, we’d be caught.”

Farrow added, “Besides, something’s changing. Her energy—her aura—it’s shifting. She’s waking up. We need to be more careful.”

Ronan stared at the fire burning in the center of the circle. The flames reflected in his eyes.

“I see,” he muttered. “We wait then. Let her settle into the illusion of safety. Let the pack believe she’s earned her place.”

The spy lowered his head. “So… we leave?”

“For now,” Ronan said. “But this doesn’t end. We’ll strike again. And next time, we won’t miss.”