"MIDNIGHT'S MARK"

I burned my hand on the oven for the third time that morning. Honestly, it felt like the universe telling me to pay attention.

"Lila, you are going to lose that hand if you keep spacing out." Vera appeared in my bakery kitchen doorway. Her arms were crossed. She wore her healer whites that somehow stayed clean.

I ran cold water over the burn and yawn ."Just tired."

"You are always tired. When was the last time you actually left this place?" She walked over and examined my hand. The burn was already healing werewolf perks but she still applied some salve from the jar she always carried. "Seriously, Lila. You live above a bakery. You work in the bakery. You smell like bread twenty four hours a day."

"Bread smells nice."

"That is not the point." Vera capped the salve and fixed me with her healer stare. The one that made grown warriors confess they had been ignoring injuries. "The lunar eclipse is tomorrow night. The whole pack will be at the ceremonial grounds. You should come."

I pulled my hand back and returned to shaping dough for the morning bread. My fingers worked automatically. Kneading and folding. "I do not do pack gatherings."

"I know. You do not do anything that involves being seen by anyone above your rank. Which is literally everyone." Vera's voice softened. "But this is different. A lunar eclipse only happens once every seventy years. It is history. Do you not want to be part of something bigger than this kitchen?

"I will think about it," I lied.

Vera sighed. "Fine. But when you are old and gray and realize you spent your entire life hiding in this bakery, do not say I did not try." She headed toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Elder Morrigan came by the clinic yesterday asking about you."

That made me look up. "Why?"

"No idea. You know how she is. always speaks in riddles." Vera grinned. "Maybe she wants to order a cake."

After Vera left, I finished the bread in silence. The bakery was my refuge. The one place in Shadowpine Pack territory where I controlled something. It was small. Tucked into a corner building that most wolves walked past without noticing. Perfect for someone like me.

I was an omega. Bottom of the pack hierarchy. The wolves who got the smallest portions at communal meals. The ones who existed to serve and support without complaint. Some packs treated omegas okay. Shadowpine was not cruel exactly. But we were invisible unless someone needed something.

I had been invisible for so long I almost forgot what being seen felt like.

The morning crowd started arriving around seven. I served coffee and pastries to warriors heading to training. Mothers buying treats for their pups. Elders who came for the conversation as much as the food. They were polite. They said thank you. But none of them really looked at me. Not in a way that counted.

It's was only me in the bakery,

My parents had been dead for twelve years. Killed in a rogue attack that also wiped out three other families. I barely remembered them anymore. Just my mother's laugh, my father's hands covered in wood shavings from his carpentry work. After they died, I went to the pack home for orphaned pups.

That was where I learned that being invisible kept you safe.

The pack home was not abusive. But it was not loving either. Too many kids. Too few adults. A clear hierarchy even among orphans. The strong pups got attention. The weak ones got forgotten. I was small. Quiet. Omega. Forgotten was my default state.

So I learned to bake. The pack home kitchen became my escape. I could create something people wanted. Something that made them smile. Without having to be seen. By twenty four i had enough to rent this place and settle.

The door chimed again. I looked up and immediately wished I had not.

Sienna Ravencroft walked in. The temperature in my bakery seemed to drop ten degrees. She was everything I was not tall, powerful, beautiful in that dangerous way that made people stare. An elite warrior. Third ranked female in the pack. The kind of wolf who could snap me in half without trying.

"Coffee. Black." She did not ask. Just commanded.

"Of course." I poured it with steady hands. I was proud they did not shake.

Sienna took the cup and surveyed the bakery with the expression of someone looking at garbage. "You actually work here every day?"

"I own it."

"Right." She sipped her coffee. I could see the dismissal in her eyes. To her, "I need three dozen pastries for the training grounds. Delivered by noon."

Three dozen meant I would have to stop everything else and bake nonstop. "That is a big order. I usually need a day's notice—"

"Noon, omega." The steel in her voice made it clear this was not a negotiation. "Or is that too difficult for you?"

Heat crept up my neck. Part embarrassment. Part anger I could not express. "I will have them ready."

"Good." She turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and tomorrow night at the eclipse ceremony? Try to stay in the back. No one wants to spend a historic event staring at pack rejects."

She left. The door chimed cheerfully behind her. My hands were shaking now.

I stood there for a long moment. Breathing carefully. This was not new. Sienna had always treated me like dirt. I stayed out of everyone's way. I did not cause problems. But to wolves like Sienna, don't care.

The anger faded into the familiar hollow ache. This was my life. Baking for wolves who did not see me. Serving wolves who looked through me. Existing in the margins of a pack where I would never matter.

I got to work on Sienna's order, so i kept baking, invisible and alone.

while the universe prepared to change everything.