A Different Kind of Strength

Elsa’s POV

The morning light was soft when the knock came at my door. I had barely finished fastening the silver clasp on my gown when the guards appeared to escort me. My heart thudded as we crossed the long corridors of the packhouse and descended the stone steps. Outside, the air was crisp, scented with pine and faint traces of smoke from the chimneys.

“She is waiting,” one of the guards said gruffly, and I followed, my palms damp inside my sleeves.

Lady Selene’s residence stood separate from the main packhouse, though close enough that her presence could still loom over everything. The building was elegant but quiet, its white stone walls climbing with ivy. It felt older than the other structures, filled with a kind of weight that whispered of history and power.

I stepped inside. The scent of herbs and polished wood filled the air. The chamber was wide, warmed by a great hearth. There, near the center, Lady Selene sat on a high-backed chair draped with wolf pelts. Two maids knelt at her side, massaging her legs gently, their hands moving with practiced care.

For a moment, I simply stared.

She was not what I expected.

Her hair, silver streaked with black, was gathered in a loose braid that fell over one shoulder. Her skin bore the faint marks of age, yet her features remained strikingly beautiful—sharp cheekbones, piercing gray eyes, and a regal bearing that radiated strength even as her body leaned on the chair for support. A carved cane rested against her arm, polished from years of use.

But those eyes… when they turned toward me, they softened.

“Ah,” Lady Selene said, her voice smooth yet commanding. “So you are the one.”

My throat tightened. The one?

“Are you my son’s mate?” she asked directly.

I froze. My instinct was to bow, to hesitate, to stammer. But something in her gaze told me she would see through weakness. So I nodded firmly, my voice quiet but steady. “Yes, my lady.”

The corners of her mouth curved into a smile. “Come closer, child.”

I blinked, startled. I had braced for sharp words, cold judgment. Instead, her arms opened.

Slowly, unsure if my legs would carry me, I approached. The maids shifted aside as Lady Selene reached for me and drew me into her embrace. Her arms were surprisingly strong, her warmth enveloping.

“I am so happy to see you,” she said softly.

I stiffened, caught between shock and relief. The warnings of the maids echoed in my head. Strict, unyielding, impossible to please. Yet here she was, holding me as if she had known me all her life.

Didn’t they say she was strict? Amy’s voice muttered inside my head. And yet look at her….beaming like she’s waited forever for this moment.

My lips parted, but no words came. I could only stand there, stunned.

Lady Selene leaned back, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “You are even lovelier than I imagined. Dylan has chosen well.”

A flush crept up my neck. Chosen? No one had ever spoken of me that way before.

Before I could gather my thoughts, the door opened behind us. Two figures swept into the chamber, their footsteps light but sure.

The sisters.

The younger one reached me first. She was all energy, her golden curls bouncing as she darted forward. Her wide blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she circled me like an eager pup.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, tugging lightly at a lock of my hair. “It’s so dark! Like midnight. Is it always this shiny?”

I blinked, startled by her sudden closeness. “Uh… I suppose so.”

“And your skin,” she continued, brushing her fingers against my hand as though I were some rare jewel. “So soft, like porcelain. Do you do something to it? Some kind of secret?”

I nearly laughed at her rapid questions. Her excitement was so genuine it disarmed me. “No,” I said softly. “I don’t have any secrets. It’s just… me.”

She grinned, satisfied, as though I’d shared something profound. “I like you,” she announced cheerfully. “I’m Neris, by the way.”

Neris. The younger sister.

Behind her, the elder moved with far less eagerness. Tall and poised, her hair as dark as Dylan’s, her eyes cool as frost. She didn’t rush, didn’t smile. She stopped a few paces away, studying me with an unreadable expression.

“I am Lyra,” she said simply. Her voice was calm, but not warm. Not unkind, either. Simply… distant.

Where Neris brimmed with curiosity, Lyra carried restraint. Together, they were opposites.

Lady Selene’s hand brushed mine again, pulling my attention back to her. “Do not mind them,” she said gently. “They are my daughters, each with their own ways. Neris heart is open, Lyra’s s cautious. You will learn them both in time.”

Neris giggled, looping her arm through mine as though we were already sisters. “Mother, she’s shy! But I’ll fix that. We’ll be friends, won’t we, Elsa?”

Her joy was infectious, though I still felt like a deer caught in the open. “I… I’d like that,” I admitted.

Lyra’s gaze lingered. Not hostile, but sharp, as if she weighed every word, every movement. Finally, she spoke. “Time will tell.”

The weight of her words settled over me.

Lady Selene gave her a mild look, then turned back to me with another smile. “Do not fear, child. You are one of us now. My son has chosen, and I accept his choice with all my heart.”

Her embrace had been warm, her words kind. But Lyra’s silence lingered like a shadow at the edges of my thoughts.

I lowered my gaze, hiding the storm within me. Relief, confusion, dread—all tangled together.

The maids had said Selene would be strict, harsh, impossible to please. Yet she had welcomed me with open arms. They had warned of judgment, and I had found warmth instead.

So why, deep down, did unease still gnaw at me?

Because even kindness can be a test. And though Selene’s smile felt genuine, I knew the eyes of this family would be on me, weighing whether I truly belonged in Dylan’s world.