Chapter 7

Aila Coraline

"I know a place you can go, just in case Alpha Samuel kicks you out," Anastasia reassured me.

I had returned home after the mess I caused in Alpha Samuel’s office. I let my emotions get the best of me and said things I shouldn’t have. My mother understood, but she wasn’t pleased with how careless I had been with my words.

"Do you think Alpha Samuel will really kick me out?" I asked, the thought suddenly weighing on me.

"We never know. You know he can't be tested. He's kicked out plenty of pack members before—what makes you any different?"

She was right. Alpha Samuel was righteous in his own way, never one to tolerate mistakes. And my mistake? Bursting into his office like a disrespectful twat. I should’ve shown more respect; he’s still the Alpha, after all.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my mother walked in with my father close behind. I could already sense the tension in the room before a word was spoken.

"What were you thinking?" my father scolded, his voice harsh. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Have you completely lost your sense?"

I clenched my fists, trying not to let my frustration show. "I was upset—"

"Upset? That’s your excuse?" He interrupted, his face reddening. "Do you think that justifies your behavior? The Alpha won’t care how you feel when he’s deciding whether to throw you out of the pack!"

My mother stood quietly, her gaze soft but filled with concern. She’d always understood me better than my father, but now, even she seemed torn.

"And what about you?" I shot back. "You never stand up for me! Never! I’ve had to fight for myself in this packhouse because you’re always siding with everyone else. You’ve never once apologized for it."

My father’s face hardened. He opened his mouth as if to respond but said nothing. Instead, he turned his back on me and left the room, leaving my words hanging in the air, unaddressed, as always.

My mother stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Give him time," she whispered. But I wasn’t sure how much more time I could give.

I'm not weak. Father taught me well how to harden my emotions, to keep them locked away. He taught me to be strong because no one, except Mother, would ever back me up.

But damn it—my tears always fall when I need them least. I couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever come a time when Father would choose me, defend me over his duty.

"Why is he always like that, Anastasia?" I asked weakly, wiping the tears from my face. "Why does he only see my mistakes and never the good I do?"

"Maybe he's worried, Cora," Anastasia replied softly. "He might not show it, but deep down, I think he’s concerned. Worried that Alpha Samuel really will kick you out. I doubt he doesn’t care about you... he’s still your father, after all."

"I doubt he’ll ever care. All he wants is for me to act a certain way, to be perfect in his eyes."

My voice trembled with frustration. How could it be so different? How could Seleira live her life the way she pleased while I was constantly held to impossible standards?

"Why does Seleira get to do whatever she wants, and I can’t?" I asked. "She’s just one rank above me, so what’s the difference? Alpha Samuel supports her no matter what, protects her when someone wrongs her. But Father? He’s never done that for me."

The words echo through the corners, heavy and bitter. I sighed and whispered the thought that had haunted me for years, "Maybe if I was a boy, he’d treat me differently."

It was the truth, as much as it hurt to say it. I knew Father never wanted a daughter. He’d always hoped for a son, someone who could carry on his legacy, his name. But instead, he got me. And I’d spent my whole life trying to live up to expectations I was never meant to meet.

Anastasia’s eyes softened with understanding, but she didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. I had always known deep down that no matter what I did, I would never be the child he wanted.

"It’s not fair," I murmured, my voice barely audible now. "I didn’t choose to be born... but I’ve been paying for it ever since."

Anastasia reached out, squeezing my hand. "You’re enough as you are, Cora. Don’t ever doubt that."

But I wasn’t sure if I could believe that anymore. Not when the person who mattered most had never made me feel like I was.

Other children born under the Alpha, Beta, and Delta ranks live in affluence and privilege. In our pack, it's almost the same, except for me. I’m the Beta’s daughter, yet I’m always the unwanted one—always doubted, never trusted with anything.

Anastasia stayed with me for a while longer, her presence calming the storm inside me. We didn’t say much after that. Eventually, when she saw that I was feeling a bit better, she gave me a reassuring smile and said her goodbyes.

"Take care of yourself, Cora. Things will get better, I promise," she whispered before walking out the door.

I was left alone in the quiet, but the heaviness that had been weighing on me had lifted, at least a little. By the time night fell, I felt more settled, though there was still an ache in my chest I couldn’t shake.

Later that night, as I sat by the window, gazing out into the dark, my mother quietly entered the room. She sat beside me without a word, and we both watched the stars in silence for a while. I knew she was waiting for me to speak, but the words felt tangled in my throat.

Finally, she broke the silence. "You know your father loves you, right?"

I swallowed hard, not sure how to respond. "I don’t know, Mom. It doesn’t feel like it."

She sighed, her expression soft but tired. "Your father... he’s complicated. He’s proud, and he holds himself—and everyone around him—to such high standards. I know it’s not easy, especially for you. But it’s not that he doesn’t care. He just... has trouble showing it."

"I’m tired of trying to be something I’m not for him," I admitted, my voice cracking. "I’m not perfect. And I’ll never be the son he wanted."

She looked at me then, her eyes filled with understanding and sadness. "You don’t have to be perfect, Coraline. Not for him, not for anyone. You’re strong in ways he may never understand. And you’re enough, just as you are."

Her words touched something deep inside me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt the faint stirrings of hope. But there was still a part of me that remained unsure, scarred by years of trying to live up to expectations that were never mine to bear.

"What if he never sees that?" I asked quietly.

My mother reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Maybe one day he will. But until then, don’t forget who you are. You’ve got your own path to follow, and that’s more important than any role he or anyone else has set for you."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from frustration. I leaned into her embrace, feeling her warmth and comfort wrap around me, only for a moment.

For now, that was enough.