Chapter 2

Every year, in the pack's official vote, I was named the most beloved Luna in the pack, yet none of it made Lyra the least bit proud.

I asked her, "Isn't Mommy impressive?"

Lyra tilted her head and answered with perfect bluntness.

"Not really. All you do is make other people work and snap at me."

I froze. Her eyes had curved into little crescents, her mouth full of smugness, and I said:

"When you say that, it really hurts Mommy."

She only said proudly, "The Moon Goddess says honesty is a wolf's finest virtue. Good children don't lie."

I didn't know how to argue with that, and it left me uneasy.

Logically, a child should feel attached to the elders who raised her so carefully, should instinctively take her mother's side, but Lyra was different.

Over summer break, I took her to the International Junior Wolf Games.

Others looked at the two of us and sneered. "That girl was the last one picked for the team, and she barely scraped through the fitness test. If another girl hadn't come down with a stomach bug, the spot would never have gone to her. A mutt, that one."

"That's not her mother beside her, is it? Such a rare bloodline, and she produces a mongrel like that. Did she stray, I wonder? Strange that her Alpha can't smell it on her."

I went over myself and told them to shut their mouths. "Lyra is no mongrel. Her wolf spirit was simply damaged at birth. You have no business judging her."

But Lyra rolled her eyes and laughed. "Mommy, they're not insulting me. They're talking about how you cheated and betrayed Daddy."

For a moment everyone around us exchanged glances.

Catching the cunning at the corner of her mouth, I felt my face go stiff.

Lyra studied me for a while, head tilted, then added,

"Don't be sad, Mommy. I only told the truth."

The month before, Lyra had remarked offhand that other children's mothers made them toys.

After finishing all of the pack's business, I stayed up late sewing her the stuffed bear she wanted.

The needle pricked my fingers several times, and dark shadows formed under my eyes.

Seeing me rub my sore fingers, my husband teased her on purpose.

"Mommy stayed up so late making you that bear. How will you repay her one day?"

Hugging the new bear, Lyra answered without even looking up.

"Repay her for what? Mommy's going to die someday anyway."

My husband went still, and my eyes stung at once.

Yet Lyra saw the looks on our faces, she giggled and held the little bear up high.

The next morning I ate my breakfast in silence and said nothing more.

Lyra even leaned over to ask, "Mommy, are you tired of hearing the truth again?"

For those few nights, Lyra's cruel little moments kept my heart racing and kept me from sleep.

My husband comforted me, saying she was young and didn't understand, and that she would grow out of it.

But I had begun to notice something, sharp and undeniable.

Every time her words left me hurting, a flicker of joy she couldn't hide would leap into her eyes.

And in the end she would always say, light as air, "I'm only being honest."

How could a child with a nature like that ever inherit the position of Alpha?

At that thought, I pressed my feelings back down.

I went to open the door and see the caseworkers out.

"Mister! Miss!"

Seeing them about to leave, Lyra called out right on cue.

"If I find out my mommy really is a bad person who steals pups, can I call you for help?"