Not Welcome

Charleza’s p.o.v.

“Why can’t you just be happy for your sister?” My mother’s question carries through the ballroom.

The ballroom fell silent when my mother stomped across the ballroom floor, and not one conversation picked up again.

“What do you mean? I just congratulated Rivanon on finding her connection.” I answer.

It was the truth, because despite everything, I was happy for her even if something kept nagging at the back of my mind.

“You are jealous that you won’t get an Alpha mate yourself. No other sister in a Beta bloodline will have an Alpha mate once one has found a high-ranking mate first.” I stare at my mother because I have no idea where she got that delusion from.

Rivanon is nodding along as our mother talks, and I even see a few other pack members nod their heads.

“You are jealous of Rivanon because you know there is no chance of you finding a high-ranking mate. With Rivanon having a high-ranking mate, you will never get more than a warrior.” My mother continues.

“Charleza, it is probably best if you leave. You are upsetting your mother and your sister.” Dad says after he has finally joined us.

I can’t wrap my head around what just happened, but I have been a part of this family long enough to understand that not one will come to my aid.

Suddenly, I no longer feel the peace I felt when I had entered the pack house. For once I had hoped my parents would be too busy keeping up appearances to bother me.

When I walked into the ballroom about an hour ago, I had smiled at the soft light spilling across the room like warm honey. My eyes had caught the tiny lights draped overhead in constellations, making the ceiling look like a quiet evening sky brought indoors.

“Is there a problem, Beta Aler?” I turn around to see our Alpha approaching.

His broad-shouldered figure is a strange contrast against the sea of blush peonies, pale lavender hydrangeas, powder-blue delphiniums, and creamy ranunculus. The pastel flowers spill from tall vases and trail along the windows in romantic garlands.

Pack members are scattered across the ballroom; some sit at round tables dressed in ivory linen with plates half-finished, while others stand in small circles or walk around greeting friends and family.

“No problem at all. Charleza was just leaving.” Dad says as he steps forward, blocking me from the Alpha’s view.

I hear a tender, unhurried melody drift through the room, like a whispered conversation, along with the soft hum of people enjoying a celebratory night.

“Charleza arrived less than an hour ago. Why would she be leaving so quickly?” Alpha Fynlo asks, stepping to the side so he can look at me.

“She has an early morning, Alpha. It is best if she gets some sleep.” Mom answers him before I can get a word out.

Everyone around is either acting as if they aren’t listening in on the conversation, while others don’t even bother hiding it.

“I thought it was clear that only our warriors were to keep to their schedule, and every other pack member has the day off or will start a few hours later.” Alpha Fynlo responds.

I am not a warrior, even though I can protect myself and kick ass when it is necessary. So, like everyone else, I have the morning off and no reason to get out of bed early.

“Alpha Fynlo, Charleza said I didn’t deserve a connection. She said I was too stupid to be a Luna.” Rivanon looks at the floor as if she is ashamed to rat me out.

“She said no such thing.” Gamma Telo responds before I can open my mouth to defend myself. “She congratulated you and wished you happiness.”

Now even more pack members stop pretending and turn their attention fully to our little group.

I don’t wait for another accusation to be thrown at me. I walk out of the ballroom with my head held high and give Luna Janed a small nod as I pass her.

“Charleza, get back here and apologize to your mother and sister.” My father calls out after me, but I keep walking.

The air is sharp and clear as I step into the night. Without the moon out, the sky looks like a tar-black canvas. The few visible stars resemble hard, icy splinters of light, scattered and distant.

The frost-hardened grass crunches beneath my feet, and the sound of the wind is like a low, mournful whisper. Almost as if it knows what lies ahead of me.

My feet carry me along a path I have walked for most of my life, back to the small cottage where my life began.

My name is Charleza Ironshield, and I am twenty-four years old. My parents are Aler and Calyree Mildglow, the Beta couple of the Dark Wind pack, and they have two other children besides me. My brother is Riog, and my sister is Rivanon.

I wasn’t planned, and by the time my parents discovered the pregnancy, it was too late to end it. Rivanon was five, and Riog was eight when I came screaming into the world.

Our paternal grandmother, Rozena, raised me from the day I was born. The first few years of my life, I didn’t see the difference between my friends and me, and when I finally noticed, Rozena had already softened the blow.

Presents on my birthday and at Christmas were offered as if my parents had bought them, but were too busy with pack business to come see me.

“Charleza, wait up. Where are you going?” One of my friends calls out.

“Home. At least there I don’t have to pretend.” I don’t bother to stop because I don’t feel like explaining myself even further.

I must have been eight when the first crack appeared in the picture I had of my family.

The back door had been left slightly open when I got home earlier than Grandma Rozena expected me to, and I overheard the conversation that made me question everything I knew and would learn in the future.

“I don’t care. Charleza was never wanted, and I am not going to change my mind about that, Mother.” I heard as I stood absolutely still near the back door.

“She is your daughter, Aler. You can’t just erase her.” Grandma Rozena responded, but no one answered. All I heard was the front door slam shut a moment later.

Everyone knew Beta Aler was my father, but I was raised by my grandmother because they were busy with pack business and had barely time to look after their two oldest children, or at least that was, and still is, the story others will tell you.

I wasn’t abused or neglected by Grandma Rozena, but I had to do with the bare minimum.

Rivanon and Riog got everything they could ask for, and then some, but my parents ignored or denied every request from Grandma Rozena to contribute to my life.

Not that Grandma Rozena ever told me, but like the other conversation I had overheard, my father told her that they wouldn’t help me in any way.

At ten years old, I couldn’t yet understand how true that would be until the day they discovered what they had tossed aside and then tried to fix what they had broken.