Chapter 2 — Adoption Day

Elara Veyne

In my first life, I spent three nights praying before the evaluation.

Back then, I believed a powerful ability could change an orphan’s fate. The Church was full of children waiting to be chosen by noble families, merchants, officers, or wealthy lupine houses.

Most of us were human. Wars created human orphans efficiently, especially among families without inherited strength or a second form to help them survive. Some humans had blessings. Others had nothing unusual at all. Shifters and hereditary manifestations existed too.

The Church claimed the First Light made no distinction between bloodlines.

Being adopted by a powerful lupine family was even considered fortunate. People called it being welcomed beneath the protection of a new pack.

I had believed that once.

Now I stood before the same crystal and tried not to smash it.

“You can place your hand on it,” the sister said.

Gideon Caldris stood on the other side of the room reviewing records. House Caldris was one of Aldervane’s respected lupine families: wealthy, influential, praised for accepting gifted human children into their home.

No one knew what their protection looked like behind locked doors.

My neck burned at the sight of him.

I touched the skin automatically.

No collar.

Not anymore.

“Elara?”

I approached the crystal.

The first time, I had poured everything into it. Golden light had filled the stone, and the priests had praised my affinity with Life.

This time, I released almost nothing.

Golden veins still climbed too quickly.

I pulled my mana back.

A priest studied the result.

“Affinity with Life. Auxiliary manifestation.”

“And the potential?”

“Low. Perhaps moderate with training. Nothing exceptional.”

I almost smiled.

I lowered my head instead.

“Is that all?”

“Auxiliary abilities are valuable too, Elara.”

“I understand.”

I stepped away.

“Elara Veyne?”

My body froze before I turned.

Gideon stood in front of me.

He was younger than the man who had killed me, but otherwise frighteningly familiar.

Then his nostrils flared slightly.

One quiet breath.

My stomach dropped.

Lupine senses.

For one irrational second, I wondered if he remembered my scent.

Impossible. I had returned with my memories. He had not.

Still, years around wolves had taught me how little privacy a heartbeat, a whisper, or fear-scent could offer.

“Affinity with Life,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Healing?”

“A little.”

“Let me see your fingers.”

I went rigid.

For an instant I was back in the laboratory, burned hands on a table while Gideon held my wrist and calmly asked if I could finish another order before fainting.

I forced myself to offer my hand.

He examined my fingertips.

His skin touched mine.

Nothing happened.

No collar tightened. No pain followed. He could not force me to stay there.

I pulled away before he finished.

His eyebrow rose.

“Sorry. I’m nervous.”

He lost interest.

“We don’t need low-potential auxiliaries,” he told the priest.

Then he walked away.

In my first life, those words would have humiliated me.

Now they felt like freedom.

My relief lasted until Gideon stopped before another girl.

Brown hair. Two braids. Maybe sixteen.

The priest read from her record.

Alchemical affinity. Good mana stability. Unusual ability to detect impurities.

My chest tightened.

Sabine joined Gideon. Minutes later, they invited the girl into a side room.

I knew the sequence.

Interest. Questions. Promises.

A home.

Teachers.

A family.

The protection of a powerful pack.

My hand lifted.

“Wait...”

Too quiet.

I could warn her. I could scream that the Caldris were dangerous.

Then someone would ask how a fifteen-year-old orphan knew that. Gideon might look at me again. The priests might repeat my evaluation. There were enough lupine ears in the building that even a whisper could travel farther than I wanted.

And if the Caldris did not choose her, they would choose someone else.

I lowered my hand.

Shame came immediately.

-----

She found me after lunch, smiling so brightly I struggled to meet her eyes.

“Elara! I think I’m going to be adopted.”

“Really?”

“Mrs. Caldris said they have a daughter almost our age. I could study alchemy with private teachers. They even have their own laboratories.”

Yes.

They had many.

Some had no windows.

“It sounds like they liked you.”

“Do you think so?”

Maybe I had once looked exactly like her.

“Be careful.”

Her smile faded. “About what?”

I almost told her about the locked rooms, the endless work, Gideon’s ring, the collar.

Instead I said, “People. Some aren’t what they seem.”

She waited for more.

I gave her nothing.

Soon she was smiling again, running toward the other girls.

I watched her leave and hated myself for staying silent.

---

That night, I found a piece of bread in my pocket.

I had hidden it during dinner without realizing.

No one had counted my spoonfuls. No one had made me earn the right to eat. My body had saved food anyway.

I hid half in the cupboard, then moved the other half beneath my mattress.

Only then could I relax.

When I noticed the dormitory door was closed, my chest tightened again.

I opened it.

Closed it.

Opened it once more.

“Is it broken?” asked one of the girls who was in the dorm with me

“No.”

“Then why do you keep opening it?”

My hand stayed on the handle.

“I wanted to make sure I could.”

----

Back in bed, I finally noticed another absence.

Sahri.

No white bird at the window. No song. No feathers. No one searching for my hidden bread.

I tried to remember when I had first met her, but the years were all jumbled up in my head—everything was a blur. Maybe it hadn't happened yet.

Or maybe not everything had returned with me.

I went to the window anyway.

“Where are you?”

No answer.

I had died. I was fifteen again. I did not know why.

But I knew what I could control.

That night, I went to the Church library.

In my first life, I knew alchemy because the Caldris needed me to know it. I knew poisons and potions, but almost nothing about politics, contracts, trade, or the world beyond their laboratories.

I had knowledge.

Just not the kind that made someone free.

I opened a political atlas across a table.

I had three years until I could leave the Church.

Three years to control my blessing.

Three years to save money.

Three years to learn everything they had never wanted me to know.

Destroying House Caldris could take longer.

That was fine.

I had already given them one lifetime.

I could be patient long enough to take it back.