I drifted in darkness for what felt like an eternity, until a faint light finally broke through the void. As I moved toward it, voices reached me, familiar and comforting.

"Congratulations, Alpha Cristian and Luna Reyna," an elderly female voice said, warm but tinged with formality. "It’s a little she-wolf."

A young boy’s voice chimed in, excited and impatient. "Let me see her! I finally have a sister!"

"Quiet, Mateo," a deep, commanding voice interrupted, though there was no real anger in it. "Don’t disturb your mother and your sister."

A softer, weaker voice followed, filled with tenderness. "Cristian, bring her to me. Let me see our daughter."

Hearing their words, my heart settled. This life, I was born into love.

The scent of the room enveloped me—the sharp, clean aroma of pine, mixed with the faint sweetness of lavender. It was the scent of my pack, my home. My father’s presence, strong and protective, filled the space with his Alpha aura, though it was softened now, tempered by the joy of the moment. My brother, Mateo, was already at my side, his youthful energy palpable even before I could see him. My mother, Luna Reyna, radiated warmth, her scent a soothing mix of vanilla and rosemary, like the first bloom of spring.

This was my family. This was my pack. And this time, I was not alone.

As I opened my eyes, the world came into focus. Mateo leaned over me, his grin wide and his dark eyes shining with excitement. My father stood tall beside him, his broad shoulders and sharp features softened by the smile he wore. My mother cradled me gently, her hands steady despite her exhaustion, her brown hair damp with sweat but her eyes bright with joy.

I was Zoya Cruz, daughter of Beta Cristian Cruz and Luna Reyna Gordon, sister to Mateo, the future Gamma of the Blue Pack. And this time, I was determined to live a life free from the shadows of my past.

This life, I was born into privilege.

Father, Cristian Cruz, is a high-ranking Beta in the Blue Pack, respected and influential. Mother, Reyna Gordon, comes from a noble lineage, her grace and wisdom shaping my upbringing.

Growing up, I no longer had to learn the menial tasks of serving others, as I had in my past life. Instead, I was immersed in a world of knowledge and refinement. Mother taught me to read and write, to appreciate the arts—painting, music, and intricate embroidery. I found solace in these quiet pursuits, while my brother Mateo was the complete opposite.

Mateo was a whirlwind of energy, obsessed with combat and strength training. Every morning, before the sun even hinted at rising, I could hear the sharp sounds of his training in the courtyard—his growls, the thud of his claws against the training dummies, the scrape of his paws against the earth. He never missed a day, no matter how harsh the weather.

I admired that about him. When he set his mind to something, he gave it everything he had. No empty words, just relentless action. But his ambition went too far. Without telling any of us, he secretly signed up for the pack’s warrior training program.

The day the enrollment papers arrived, Mother’s tears were a flood she couldn’t contain. Father’s brow furrowed deeply, his silence stretching uncomfortably long. But Mateo, his face still boyish yet filled with determination, stood tall and spoke with a conviction that shook the room.

“My greatest dream is to serve the pack with honor,” he declared, his voice steady despite his youth. “Father, Mother, please let me do this.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a mix of pride and fear swirling in my chest. I knew he meant every word, but the thought of him risking his life for the pack’s battles was terrifying. Yet, in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of the same admiration I’d always had for him.

He was ready to fight for what he believed in, no matter the cost. And though it scared me, I couldn’t deny that it was who he was—a warrior at heart.