The Storm Approaching

The bruises from my humiliating fall at dinner had finally faded to a sickly, yellowish-green, barely visible to the naked eye.

In three days, I would turn eighteen. I would stand before the entire Moonstone Pack for my coming of age ceremony. In three days, I would be expected to shift into my wolf for the very first time with all eyes on me.

I couldn't, I just knew it.

My reflection stared back at me through the cracked mirror, water still dripping down my hair and my face after my morning wash. My hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly.

"You can do it," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the loudly dripping faucet. "You can shift can't you? My voice is unsure. Every wolf does it and you're a wolf. You have to have a wolf inside you."

But I'd never felt her. Not once in my eighteen years of life had I felt even a sliver of a wolf stirring inside me. No instincts beyond human ones nor enhanced senses. Absolutely no connection to the moon whatsoever.

Just silence where a wolf should have been present.

A sharp knock sounded on the bathroom door making me flinch.

"Sera, child, are you in there?" Margaret's asked, voice warm as always,

I dried my face and opened the door to Margaret standing in the hallway, her apron already dusted with flour despite the early hour, concern marring every line of her face.

"Morning, Maggie," I said softly, using the nickname I'd called her since I was little enough to toddle around her kitchen.

Her expression softened at the name, as it always did. "Don't you 'Maggie' me. You barely touched dinner last night, and I know you skipped breakfast. Again."

"But I'm not hungry."

"You're anxious." It wasn't a question. She had always been able to read me just like one of her recipe books, every emotion of mine laid out clearly. "About the ceremony."

I looked down at my worn-out sneakers, it's laces frayed and the rubber sole peeling on one side. "What if I can't shift, Maggie? What if I stand under the full moon and nothing changes? They'll..."

"They'll do nothing worse than what they've already done," Margaret interrupted, her voice fierce. She held my face in her calloused hands, forcing our eyes to meet "Listen my little moon. You're much stronger than any of them know. Stronger than you know. You will survive it like you always do."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've watched you survive for eighteen long years in a pack that's done everything in their power to break you. And you're still here." She pulled me into a tight warm hug that smelled of flour and cinnamon and home. "Now come. It's time for breakfast prep, and you need food in that belly even if you don't feel like it."

I followed her to the kitchen, familiar warmth and scents wrapped around me. This was my sanctuary, Margaret's domain. The one place in this entire pack where I felt almost safe.

"Here." She pressed a blueberry muffin into my hands the moment we entered. "Eat, no buts."

I took a tiny bite. It tasted poorly like sawdust in my mouth, my anxiety twisting my stomach into knots, but I forced myself to swallow. Margaret watched me like a hawk until I'd finished it all.

"Much better." She finally turned back to the sizzling eggs on the stove. "Now, about the ceremony. Did you see the dress I left in your room?"

I froze. "Dress?"

"You didn't see it?" Margaret shot me an exasperated look. "Hanging on your doorknob last night. Simple thing, nothing too fancy. You're not wearing those rags to your Coming of Age."

My throat tightened. "Margaret, you didn't have to.."

"Hush child. I wanted to." Her voice softened. "You deserve it Sera. Something that's yours. It's not much, just a white sundress, but.."

"It's perfect," I whispered, blinking back tears. "Thank you."

Her eyes glistened and she quickly turned back to the stove, blinking rapidly. "Good. Now come help me with these eggs before they burn."

We worked in comfortable silence, falling into the familiar rhythm we'd shared since I was just five. Margaret would hum old pack songs while I chopped vegetables or stirred pots, content just to be next to her.

This, this was what it must feel like to have a mother.

"Margaret?" My voice was quiet.

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember... when we lived together? Before..." I trailed off, unable to finish. Before Alpha Magnus separated us and moved me to the basement. Before everything changed.

Her hands stilled on the whisk she was holding. She didn't speak for a while, and I worried I'd overstepped, brought up something painful.

"Every day, little moon. I remember every moment."

"Was I happy then?"

She turned to stare at me, nearly breaking me with the sadness in her eyes.

"You were the happiest child I'd ever seen. Always giggling, and getting into mischief. You used to bake bread with me, and you'd spread flour everywhere, your hair, on your nose, all over your clothes." Her lips formed a gentle smile despite the tears in her eyes. "You'd sit on the counter, tiny legs swinging, and tell me stories about adventures you'd have when you were all grown up."

"What kind of adventures?"

"Oh, saving the pack from terrible monsters. Discovering hidden treasures. Finding a magical garden where flowers bloomed in winter." She recounted with emotion. "Wild imagination and such joy. You'd laugh at everything, the way the dough rose, the songs of the birds outside the window, the patterns the sunlight left on the floor."

"What happened to that little girl?" I asked. I knew the answer. We both did.

Margaret's lips thinned. "Alpha Magnus happened. The day he separated us, that fateful day he put you in that basement and told me it was inappropriate to be attached to pack property'..." She shook her head sharply, her jaw clenched. "I should have fought harder. Should have.."

"There was nothing you could have done. He's the Alpha."

"Still doesn't make it right."

"No," I agreed quietly. "It doesn't."

The sudden swing of the kitchen door made us both jump. Rosa, one of the younger kitchen staff, rushed in, her cheeks flushed.

"Margaret, truly sorry to interrupt, but Alpha Magnus wants the breakfast service moved up by thirty minutes. He has an early meeting with the visiting Alphas."

Margaret muttered something, probably a curse word, judging by the face she made. "Of course he does. Thirty minutes. Because we don't have enough to do already." She turned to me, all business now. "Sera, begin plating the eggs. Rosa, assist her with the bacon. I'll personally handle the Alpha's special order."

We moved into an organized chaos, the brief moment of intimacy shattered by duty. This was our reality, stolen moments of warmth in between serving wolves who saw me as dirt.

I plated eggs with mechanical efficiency, my mind drifting as I worked. Three days until the ceremony. Three days until I either shift or...

Or what?

What would be my fate if I couldn't?

It was constantly talked about in the pack. I'd heard the speculation, the cruel jokes, and the casual discussions of what would become of me.

"Some packs kill omegas who can't shift. Too weak and useless to waste resources on."

"Maybe Magnus will finally exile her. Send her off as a rogue. That's as much mercy as she can get"

"Good riddance. She's been polluting this pack long enough."

Exile equaled death. Rogues rarely survived long. They went mad from the loneliness, from the absence of the pack bond that was every wolf's birthright. They became feral and most were killed by pack wolves on sight.

If I were exiled, I'd die.

Not immediately. But eventually.

"Sera." Margaret's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "You're going to break that plate."

I looked down to find my knuckles white around the porcelain. I relaxed my hands carefully setting down the plate.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just breathe." Margaret moved closer, her voice low just so Rosa wouldn't hear. "Whatever happens in the next three days, we'll figure it out. Together. I won't let them hurt you any more than they already have."

We both knew that was a promise she couldn't keep. Margaret was powerless here. She was just a cook, barely above my own omega status. If Alpha Magnus decided to exile me or worse there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.

Still, I nodded letting her believe the lie. Letting us both pretend that it would be okay.

"Now," she straightened up, injecting false cheer into her voice. "Let's get this breakfast served. And tonight, after dinner, come to my quarters. There's something I have for you."

"Marg.."

"No arguments. Seven o'clock. Don't be late."

She didn't let me argue. Margaret in full mother-hen mode was a force of nature to be reckoned with.

......................................................

My arms ached from the weight of the tray of plates I carried, when I heard footsteps approaching quickly from behind.

"Sera! Wait up!"

I recognized the voice immediately, Maya Chen. I stopped, turning with caution to prevent the dishes from sliding off the tray.

She jogged up to me, her black ponytail bouncing. Her dark eyes nervously flittered around the hallway, making sure we were alone. Probably didn't want to be seen with me.

"Hey," she said out of breath, stopping just a few feet away. Close enough to talk, but far enough that it wouldn't be suspicious if someone came around the corner.

"Maya, you really shouldn't.."

"I know, I know. It's dangerous for us both if anyone spots us actually talking." She shifted her weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. "But I needed to speak to you alone. Before the ceremony."

My stomach clenched. "What about the ceremony?"

Maya bit her lip, reaching into her pocket and pulling out something small. She gripped my hand quickly forcing it into my palm, glancing around again ensuring the coast was clear.

A bracelet. Simple braided leather with a small moonstone bead that seemed to glow faintly.

"For luck," Maya said quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know you're scared and everyone's expecting you to fail. But I remember..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I remember when we were kids, Sera. Before Magnus separated you and Margaret. Before everything got so horrible. We were best friends."

My breath caught in my throat. "Maya—"

"We used to play together in Margaret's garden. Remember? You'd make up silly stories about magical wolves who could talk to the moon, and I'd pretend to be a villain you had to beat." A sad smile touched her lips.

I did remember. Hazy faraway memories of sunshine and laughter and a little girl who didn't care that I was an omega. Who saw me as just Sera. Her friend.

"That was long ago," I said quietly.

"I know. And I should have... I should have continued being your friend all these years. Should have stood up for you, but I was afraidaidaidaidaidaidaid." Maya's eyes were filled to the brim unshed tears now. "I was such a coward, Sera. Aunt Margaret raised us together for two whole years, and I just let them separate us without a fight. I let them hurt you for six years, and I did nothing."

"We were both twelve and there was nothing you could have done."

"That doesn't make it okay." Maya's voice cracked. "But maybe... this can be a start? I can't be open about our friendship, not yet, not until I'm strong enough to stand against them

I just want you to know. Someone's rooting for you."

She squeezed my hand, the moonstone bead pressing into my palm.

"When you stand under the moon three days from now, just know that you are not alone. I will be there. I believe in you, even if you don't believe in yourself."

Maya turned, racing away, vanishing behind a corner before I could speak or tell her how much those words meant to me.

I stood there for a while, gripping the bracelet in my hand. It felt warm in my palm, as if it had absorbed heat from her touch.

Someone was rooting for me. It was such a small thing. But right now, it seemed monumental.

I carefully slipped it into my pocket, daring not to wear it where others might see. My hands remained in my pocket, fingers wrapped around the leather and stone.

A talisman. A reminder that long ago, someone had seen me as more than the pack's omega. Someone had been my friend.

Maybe... maybe they still could be.

Th afternoon arrived with its various duties, I scrubbed the dining room floor on both hands and knees, a bucket of soapy water beside me, when I heard them coming.

Eleora's high pitched laugh echoed down the hallway even before she entered the room. I immediately tried to make myself smaller, hoping the large decorative plant in the corner would hide me from their view.

It didn't.

Or maybe they saw me but just didn't care.

Eleora swept into the room flanked by her cohorts, Celeste and two other girls I recognized but never bothered to learn their names. They were all wrapped in designer clothes. Eleora in her pale pink sundress that probably cost more than I made in a year.

I bowed my head and carried on, hoping they'd leave quickly.

"..absolutely humiliating for her," Eleora was saying, examining her perfect nails. Each painted a glossy pink. "I almost feel sorry for her. Almost."

"You think she'll actually try to shift?" Celeste asked, perched on the edge of a chair, swinging her legs care freely. "Oh please, everyone knows she can't. Why put herself through the trouble?"

"Because Alpha Magnus is making it mandatory." One of the nameless girls laughed, a grating sound. "Every wolf who comes of age has to participate. No exceptions. Even for defective omegas."

My hand stilled on the scrub brush but I forced myself to keep moving. Don't react.

"I heard," Eleora lowered her voice to a whisper that still somehow carried perfectly across the room, "that some packs kill off omegas who can't shift. They're considered too weak to waste resources on. A genetic defect."

My heart stopped in my chest. The brush slipped from my fingers and clattering loudly against the floor.

Their conversation halted abruptly.

"Oh my," Celeste said with mock surprise. Look who we have here."

"I think it's the omega, hiding behind a plant." one of the nameless girls said, her voice dripping with false concern. "Scrubbing out floors like the good little servant she is."

Their footsteps approached me. Ridiculousy expensive xpensive heels clicking against the hardwood I'd just scrubbed clean. I kept my head down, retrieving the brush I dropped

"Omega." Eleora's voice was sickeningly sweet now. I could see the pointed toes of her shoes just inches away from my bucket. "How long have you been listening to our private conversation?"

"I wasn't listening." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. "I'm just cleaning."

"Of course you are. That's all you'll ever be good for, isn't it?" Eleora crouched down, leveling her face with mine. This close, I could see the expert application of her makeup, "Cleaning up other people's messes." "The only way an omega can be useful."

I didn't respond. There was no right answer here. Anything I said would only worsen it.

"We were just discussing the upcoming ceremony," Eleora continued, her voice dropping. "Everyone's talking about it. Placing bets, actually. Wanna know what the odds are?"

I didn't want to know. But she was going to tell me anyway.

"Ten to one that you can't shift at all. Five to one that you try and fail publicly. Three to one that you don't even show up." Her smile widened. "Nobody's betting on you succeeding, by the way. Those odds would be infinite."

"Actually," Celeste chimed in from across the room, "I heard Alpha Magnus is considering some very interesting options for what to do with you after your failure."

"Really?" One of the nameless girls sounded intrigued. "Like what?"

"Well, exile is the most obvious. Can't have a weak wolf in the pack who can't even shift. It sets a bad example" Celeste examined her own nails, blood red and filed sharp. "But some people are saying he might just... You know, put her down like a rabid dog."