Reality Sets In

Lyra’s POV

I had to admit, Jadis was trying really hard to fit in.

Over the past week, she’d thrown herself into pack life with genuine enthusiasm. She helped in the kitchens, tended the herb gardens, and even volunteered for the less pleasant tasks like mending hunting gear and organizing the supply storage. Everyone loved her, she was sweet, hardworking, and had this infectious laugh that could brighten anyone’s day.

So why did I still feel like something was… off?

“Lyra, could you pass the rosemary?” Jadis asked from across the kitchen counter where we were preparing healing salves for the pack’s medicine stores.

“Sure,” I said, sliding the jar over to her. “You’re really good at this. Where did you learn?”

“My grandmother,” she said with a soft smile, carefully measuring the herbs. “She was the pack healer before… well, before everything went wrong.” Her smile faltered slightly. “I used to think I’d follow in her footsteps, maybe find a mate who’d appreciate having a healer for a partner.”

There was genuine sadness in her voice, and I felt that familiar pang of guilt for my continued unease around her.

“I’m sorry about your mate,” I said quietly. “About how he treated you.”

“Thank you.” She looked up from her measuring. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How do you do it? Stay so positive after… you know, the ceremony?”

I paused in my grinding of dried chamomile. It was a fair question, and one I’d been asking myself all week.

“Honestly? I’m not sure I am staying positive,” I admitted. “Some days I feel like I’m just… pretending everything’s fine until maybe it actually will be.”

“But you have them,” she said, and there was something hungry in her voice that she quickly covered with wistfulness. “Your boys. They love you so much.”

“They do,” I said simply, because there was no point in denying what everyone could see.

“It must be nice,” she continued, and I caught a flash of something sharp in her green eyes before she looked down at her herbs. “Having that kind of devotion. That certainty. Some of us have to work much harder for attention.”

Before I could respond, the kitchen door burst open and Kael bounded in like an overgrown puppy.

“Lyra! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I’ve been here for two hours,” I pointed out, amused despite myself.

“Two hours too long without seeing your beautiful face,” he said dramatically, then seemed to notice Jadis for the first time. “Oh, hey Jadis. How are you settling in?”

“Very well, thank you,” she said, her smile brightening considerably. “Everyone’s been so welcoming.”

“Good, good,” Kael said absently, already turning back to me. “So, I had this amazing idea for lunch. What if we had a picnic? Just the five of us, down by the lake?”

“That sounds lovely,” Jadis said hopefully. “I’d love to see more of the territory.”

“Oh,” Kael blinked, looking confused. “I meant… well, the five of us is usually…” He gestured vaguely at me and then toward where his brothers were presumably lurking somewhere in the house.

“Kael,” I said gently, “Jadis is part of the pack now. She can come.”

“Right! Yes! Of course!” he said quickly, but I could see he was disappointed. “The more the merrier!”

Except he didn’t look merry. He looked like someone had just told him Christmas was canceled.

“Actually,” Jadis said, and for just a moment her smile looked forced, “I should finish these salves. Maybe another time?”

Her tone was light, but I caught the slight edge underneath it.

“Are you sure?” I asked, though I could see Kael practically vibrating with relief behind her.

“I’m sure. You five enjoy your… family time.” There was something pointed about the way she said it, like she was testing the words.

As Kael dragged me away to plan our picnic, I caught a glimpse of Jadis’s face in the reflection of the kitchen window. Her carefully maintained smile had completely dropped, and the expression underneath was cold, calculating. Almost predatory. When she thought no one was looking, she looked… dangerous.

But when I turned back to look at her directly, she was just quietly measuring herbs with that same gentle smile she always wore, humming softly to herself like nothing had happened.

Later that afternoon…

The picnic was exactly what we all needed. Just the five of us, sprawled on blankets by the lake, laughing and talking like the ceremony disaster had never happened. Marcus had brought his guitar, Zane was braiding flowers into my hair, Darius was feeding me strawberries, and Kael was dramatically recounting some pack gossip he’d overheard.

It felt normal. Right. Like coming home after being lost.

“You’re glowing,” Zane murmured in my ear as he tucked another flower behind it.

“It’s just the sunlight,” I protested.

“No,” Marcus said, looking up from his guitar. “He’s right. You literally glow when you’re happy. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only about a thousand times,” I laughed.

“It’s true though,” Darius added, leaning back on his elbows. “When you smile, really smile, it’s like the sun came out.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” I said, but I was blushing.

“Ridiculously in love with you,” Kael said matter-of-factly, stealing a strawberry from Darius’s container.

“Hey!” Darius protested. “Get your own strawberries.”

“I don’t want strawberries, I want Lyra’s strawberries.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. Everything tastes better when it’s meant for Lyra.”

I was laughing at their ridiculous argument when I caught sight of a familiar figure sitting alone on the pack house porch, watching us. Even from a distance, I could see the longing in Jadis’s posture.

My laughter faded. “We should have insisted she come.”

“Who?” Zane asked, following my gaze. “Oh. Jadis.”

“She said she was busy,” Marcus pointed out.

“She was just being polite,” I said, guilt gnawing at me. “She probably didn’t want to impose.”

“We could ask her to join us now,” Darius suggested, though he didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it.

“Would that be weird?” Kael asked. “I mean, we’re kind of in the middle of… us time.”

“Us time?” I repeated.

“You know what I mean. Family time. Pack bond time. Whatever you want to call it.”

I looked around at my four boys, all of them beautiful and relaxed in the afternoon sunlight, and I understood what Kael meant. This was our space, our dynamic, our carefully balanced unit of five. Adding someone else, even someone as nice as Jadis, would change the entire feel of it.

But that wasn’t Jadis’s fault.

“She’s lonely,” I said quietly. “And she’s trying so hard to fit in.”

“She’ll make friends,” Marcus said gently. “The other pack members already love her.”

“But not us?” I asked.

The four of them exchanged one of their looks.

“We like her,” Zane said carefully. “She seems very sweet.”

“But?” I prompted.

“But we don’t need more friends,” Darius said simply. “We have everything we need right here.”

“Everyone needs friends, Darius.”

“Not us,” Kael said with that blind certainty that both warmed my heart and worried me. “We have you.”

I looked back toward the pack house, where Jadis was still sitting alone on the porch. As I watched, she stood up abruptly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in her posture, the sharp, angry movements as she paced back and forth. Then, as if she’d felt my gaze, she suddenly schooled her features back into that sweet, sad expression and went inside.

“I should go check on her,” I said, starting to get up.

“Lyra,” Marcus’s hand caught mine. “You can’t fix everyone.”

“I’m not trying to fix her. I’m trying to be a good friend.”

“You are a good friend,” Zane said softly. “The best. But some people… some people need to find their own place. You can’t force it.”

I settled back down on the blanket, but I couldn’t shake the image of Jadis sitting alone, watching us with such longing.

Later that evening, I found her in the library, curled up in one of the big armchairs with a book.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not,” she said, closing her book and smiling at me. “How was your picnic?”

“It was nice. You should have come.”

“Oh, I was fine here. I found this amazing collection of healing texts. Your pack has quite the library.”

“Jadis,” I said, settling into the chair across from her. “Are you happy here? Really?”

She was quiet for a long moment, staring down at her hands.

“I’m grateful to be here,” she said finally. “Your father, Alpha Magnus, saved my life. Your pack has given me safety and purpose.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Another long pause.

“I thought…” she started, then stopped, and I saw her jaw clench briefly before she continued. “I guess I thought things would be different. That maybe I could have what you have. What you don’t even seem to appreciate.”

The last part was said so quietly I almost missed it.

“What do you mean?”

“A family,” she said, her voice carefully controlled again. “People who love you unconditionally. Who would do anything for you.” She paused. “People who actually notice when you’re in the room.”

“You can have that here,” I said. “The pack, ”

“The pack is kind to me,” she interrupted gently. “But they’re not my family. And your boys…” She smiled sadly. “They’re very polite to me, but they barely see me when you’re in the room.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Because she was right.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault they love you.” Her smile turned brittle. “It’s not your fault you’re everything they need. Though I do wonder sometimes… what makes you so special? What do you have that others don’t?”

There was something almost challenging in her tone, and I felt my wolf stir uneasily.

“Jadis, ”

“It’s okay, Lyra. Really.” She picked up her book with slightly too much force. “I’m just grateful to have a safe place to figure out what comes next. After all, I came here for a reason, and I’m not one to give up easily.”

As I left the library, her words echoed in my head. Some people get fairy tales, and some people don’t.

But something about the way she’d said it made me think she wasn’t quite ready to accept that reality.

And something told me that was going to be a problem.