Chapter Eight

The Alpha’s Burden

Aurelia’s POV

*One Year Before the Blood Moon

Growing up, I used to think being Alpha meant standing at the front of every battle, but as I got older, I realized the hardest battles were the ones no one else could see.

It started with the little things.

Cassian stopped sneaking away from training to meet me by the river. He smiled less. He laughed less. Even when he did, there was always a hint of exhaustion hiding behind it.

At first, I blamed the Alpha Council. After all, he was his father’s heir. It only made sense that they would begin preparing him for the responsibilities of leading Silvercrest one day. Still…

Something felt different.

I noticed it one afternoon while waiting for him outside the council hall. The heavy oak doors remained closed for what felt like hours.

From where I sat beneath the old maple tree, I could hear nothing more than muffled voices rising and falling behind the walls.

Sometimes they argued. Sometimes they fell into an uneasy silence. When the doors finally opened, the elders stepped out one by one.

Each wore the same unreadable expression. Some acknowledged me with polite nods. Others avoided looking at me entirely. I thought nothing of it.

Adults were strange.

They were always discussing matters too important for younger wolves to understand.

Cassian was the last to leave. The moment he saw me, the tension in his shoulders eased.

“You’ve been waiting long?”

I held up the book I’d nearly finished reading.

“Long enough to finish three chapters.”

He laughed quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For making you wait.”

I rolled my eyes. “You always apologize.”

“And you always tell me I don’t have to.”

“Because you don’t.” I said, my voice firm.

He smiled, though it was smaller than the smiles I remembered from years before.

“Come on,” I said, standing. “Let’s get out of here.”

We wandered through the village without any destination in mind. It has become our favorite way to escape.

No titles. No expectations. Just Cassian and me.

We stopped near the marketplace where children were chasing one another between the stalls. One little boy tripped and landed face-first in the dirt. He blinked once before bursting into dramatic tears.

I laughed.

Cassian was already helping him to his feet. “You fought the ground,” he said solemnly. “The ground won.”

The boy sniffled. “It cheated.”

“I thought so too.”

Cassian dusted the dirt from the child’s clothes before sending him back to his friends, now with a smile on his little face.

I watched him jog away. “You’d make a good father someday.”

Cassian nearly choked.

“Lia.”

“What?” I blinked at him innocently.

“I’m trying to survive becoming Alpha first.”

I laughed. “Fair point.”

His smile lingered for only a moment before fading again. There it was. That look. Like his mind had never truly left the council hall.

I reached over and slipped my hand into his. He looked down at our intertwined fingers.

“You’ve been quiet lately.” I finally said what’s been on my mind.

“I know.”

“Is something wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched the mountains surrounding Silvercrest, their peaks disappearing into drifting clouds.

“Do you ever feel like everyone expects you to know the answers?”

I tilted my head. “I usually expect you to know the answers.”

He laughed softly before saying, “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

That earned me another smile. But only briefly.

“Some days…” he started, “I feel like everyone’s waiting for me to become the Alpha my father already is.” he admitted.

“You will.”

“What if I’m not enough?”

The question caught me completely off guard. Cassian had always been the confident one. The steady one, so hearing doubt in his voice felt… wrong.

I stopped walking until he looked at me.

“Do you know why people already trust you?”

He frowned. “No.”

“Because you care whether you’re enough.” He remained silent, so I continued. “If you were arrogant, I’d be worried.” A faint chuckle escaped him. “But you’re not. You’ve spent your whole life trying to become someone worthy of leading this pack.” I squeezed his hand. “And the fact that you’re afraid of failing tells me you never will.”

For the first time all afternoon, his smile reached his eyes.

“You always know what to say.”

“No.” I smiled back. “I just tell you what you’ve forgotten.”

As we continued through the village, a messenger hurried past us toward the council hall.

He didn’t notice us.

A rolled parchment was tucked beneath his arm, sealed with dark crimson wax instead of Silvercrest’s silver crest.

I frowned. “That’s strange.”

Cassian’s eyes followed the messenger. His expression hardened for only a heartbeat. Then it disappeared.

“What is?” He asked.

“The seal.” I pointed out. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

He looked away almost immediately. “It probably belongs to one of the southern packs.”

“Maybe.” I forced myself to brush it off.

Though, something about his answer felt rehearsed. Not dishonest. Just…careful. Before I could ask another question, the distant bell from the Moon Shrine echoed across the village.

Cassian let out a quiet sigh. “I have to go back.”

“So soon?” I managed to hide the sadness in my voice.

“The council isn’t finished.” He sighed.

I tried not to let my disappointment show.

“Alright.”

He hesitated, then gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I can’t.” He looked so torn.

“You really can’t.” That finally earned me a genuine laugh.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He promised.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He nodded and kissed my forehead before turning toward the council hall.

I watched him disappear through the heavy wooden doors once again. For reasons I couldn’t explain…I suddenly didn’t like that building anymore. It felt as though every time those doors closed behind him, they returned someone carrying a little more weight than before.

At seventeen, I believed becoming Alpha was simply a matter of learning how to lead. I didn’t yet understand that leadership wasn’t measured by strength alone.

Sometimes, it was measured by the secrets you were forced to carry. And sometimes…

By the ones that were kept from you.