Elara POV

Albin Todd stopped at the edge of the heavy oak counter, his weathered hands resting on the wood. His sharp, aged eyes shifted from the crumpled five-dollar bill to my face. The scent of dried sage and old parchment that always clung to him seemed to soften.

I didn't hesitate. I smoothed the bill one last time, then looked him dead in the eye.

"The moonpetal and wolfsbane I used cost roughly two dollars," I said, my voice steady, though my heart was still racing from the thrill of the sale. "That leaves a three-dollar profit. I want to split it down the middle. One dollar and fifty cents for each of us."

Albin blinked, surprise flickering across his lined face. He reached out and gently pushed the five-dollar bill back toward me. "Keep it, Elara. All of it. You brewed the salve, and you made the sale. You earned it."

For a fleeting second, the temptation was overwhelming. Five dollars could buy enough grain to last us a month. But my newly awakened White Wolf bristled at the thought of taking charity. I needed a foundation, not a handout.

I pushed the bill back to the center of the counter. "No, Mr. Todd. I used your shop, your supplies, and your reputation to make that sale. If I take it all, I'm a charity case. If we split the profit, we're partners. I won't work here under any other condition."

Albin stared at me, the silence in the shop stretching thick and heavy. Slowly, a profound, melancholic warmth filled his eyes. He wasn't just looking at me anymore; he was looking through me, at a ghost from his past.

"You have her fire," he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "Your grandmother, Agatha... she had that exact same look in her eyes when she made up her mind. Proud. Unbreakable."

He let out a soft, yielding sigh and opened the brass cash register. He pulled out two crisp one-dollar bills and a fifty-cent coin, sliding them across the wood.

"Two dollars and fifty cents," Albin said, a genuine smile finally breaking through his beard. "To my new partner."

I took the money, the metal of the coin cool and grounding against my palm. "Thank you, Albin."

By the time I left the shop, the late afternoon sun was casting long, golden shadows across the Bloodmoon Pack's central market. The air was cooling, carrying the scent of roasting meats and woodsmoke from the food stalls. My stomach gave a hollow, painful clench.

I bypassed the grain merchants and walked straight to the butcher's stall. The metallic tang of fresh blood hit my sensitive nose.

"Give me a cut of the fresh venison hindquarter," I told the burly Warrior behind the counter. "Fifty cents' worth."

He raised an eyebrow at my frayed clothes but didn't argue as I handed over the coin. He wrapped a heavy, dark red slab of meat in thick brown paper and shoved it across the ice.

Carrying that package felt like carrying a trophy. It was the first fresh meat my family would have in months.

I hurried down the winding dirt path that led away from the bustling center and toward the quiet, dilapidated fringes of the Omega quarters. As I rounded the final bend, two familiar figures came into view, pacing anxiously near the edge of the woods.

Isaac's broad shoulders were tense, his head swiveling as he scanned the path. Beside him, little Jett was practically vibrating with nervous energy. The moment the wind shifted and carried my scent to them, their heads snapped in my direction.

"Elara!" Jett yelled, sprinting toward me on his scrawny legs. He crashed into my side, his small hands gripping my jacket.

Isaac was right behind him, his brow furrowed with worry. "Where have you been? Mom is pacing a hole in the floorboards. We thought a Rogue might have—"

Isaac stopped dead in his tracks. His nostrils flared. His eyes dropped to the heavy brown paper package in my arms, and his jaw went slack.

"Is that...?" Isaac breathed, his voice cracking.

"Venison," I said, a fierce, protective pride swelling in my chest. I held the package out to him. "I sold my first batch of medicine today, Isaac. I bought us dinner."

Isaac took the heavy package from me as if it were made of fragile glass. He stared at the blood seeping through the paper, completely speechless. Jett gasped, his eyes wide with pure awe as he looked up at me.

"You bought meat?" Jett whispered, treating me like I had just pulled down the moon itself.

"I did," I smiled, taking Jett's hand. "Come on. Let's go home and show Mom."

Isaac clutched the venison to his chest, his posture shifting from a worried brother to a fiercely proud protector, and together, we walked the rest of the way to our small, weathered cabin.

Elara POV

The moment we stepped into the drafty cabin, the heavy brown paper package in Isaac’s arms became the center of the universe.

Diana froze by the stone hearth. Her eyes darted from the blood-stained paper to my face, a flash of pure, unadulterated joy illuminating her exhausted features. But in the brutal world of an Omega, joy was a luxury we couldn't afford. The light in her eyes fractured, instantly replaced by the gnawing, familiar panic of survival.

"You spent it?" Diana’s voice trembled, her calloused hands wringing her frayed apron. "Elara, winter is only months away. What if someone gets sick? That money... it was our safety net."

Isaac’s broad shoulders slumped, his grip on the meat loosening. Even little Jett looked down, the harsh reality of our poverty dampening his excitement.

"Mom, look at us," I said softly, stepping forward. My modern soul refused to let them live in this constant state of fear. "We are surviving, not living. We need strength to work, to earn more. This isn't a waste; it's an investment. The strong survive."

Diana opened her mouth to argue, but the quiet, unyielding authority in my voice—a spark of my dormant White Wolf—made her pause. I gently took the package from Isaac and walked toward the cramped kitchenette.

Behind me, Isaac was still standing in the middle of the room, staring at the kitchenette with a goofy, drooling grin.

*Smack.*

The dull thud of Diana’s palm hitting Isaac’s broad back echoed in the small room. "Stop grinning like a fool and go help your sister!" she scolded, her harsh tone masking her relief. "The meat won't cut itself."

Isaac just laughed, rubbing his shoulder as he hurried over to take the heavy knife from me.

Soon, the kitchenette was filled with the intoxicating sound of sizzling meat. I tossed the venison fat into the hot iron skillet, rendering it down into liquid gold.

Jett stood on his tiptoes, his nose twitching. "It smells so good, Mom," he whispered reverently.

Diana walked over, gently tapping the back of Jett’s head. "All you think about is your stomach," she chided, though her eyes were soft. She knelt, forcing Jett to look at her. "Remember who brought this food. You eat this meat, you get strong. And you use that strength to protect her. Understand?"

Jett’s small hands balled into fists. His chest puffed out with a fierce, primal loyalty. "I will, Mom. I'll protect Elara forever!"

I smiled, turning back to the bubbling stew. Reaching onto the high shelf, I pulled down a small, dusty leather pouch. Diana’s breath hitched. It was her precious reserve of spices, hoarded strictly for the Midwinter Festival.

I sprinkled a generous pinch into the pot. The rich, earthy aroma of rosemary and wild garlic exploded in the air. I braced myself for her scolding, but when I glanced over my shoulder, Diana was just watching me. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, but she offered a small, defeated smile, silently surrendering her frugality to the sheer happiness radiating from my face.

*

Desmond POV

The eastern edge of the Warrior training grounds smelled of sweat, overturned earth, and the metallic tang of blood. I wiped a layer of grime from my forehead, my muscles burning pleasantly after a grueling sparring session with Kalen.

Suddenly, a heavy, authoritative pressure pushed against my mental barriers.

*“Desmond. Kalen.”* The voice of Frederick Lancaster, the retired Alpha, echoed in my head through the Pack's Mind-Link. *“The Alpha of the Silver Creek Pack arrives tomorrow with his daughter. I expect you both washed and presentable. It is time we discussed Pairings.”*

Panic seized my chest. A political Pairing was my absolute nightmare. I grabbed Kalen’s arm, my fingers digging into his bicep, and shoved my response through the link before Kalen could even blink.

*“Sorry, Grandfather, we've got a possible Rogue sighting on the eastern border. Urgent patrol required!”*

I didn't wait for a response. I practically dragged the current Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack toward the tree line.

Once we were out of sight, Kalen yanked his arm away, his deep chuckle vibrating in the crisp air. "Maybe they're just worried about you, old man," he teased, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Twenty-eight is practically ancient for an unmated Gamma."

I pointed a dirty finger at his chest. "I'm only two years older than you! You've got no room to talk!"

Kalen smirked, leaning against a pine tree. The terrifying Alpha aura he usually projected was completely dialed back around me.

I sighed, running a hand over my short hair. "Forget it. Come home with me this time. My Aunt Diana is making venison stew."

Elara POV

The morning mist still clung to the damp earth as I walked down the packed dirt path toward the Pack's center. My mind was still reeling from the surreal events of last night.

Gamma Desmond had actually brought Alpha Kalen Lancaster to our cramped, drafty shack for dinner. Sitting across from the most powerful wolf in the Bloodmoon Pack had been suffocating. Because of my wolfless body, I couldn't understand the strange, heavy tension in the air. I only knew that his overwhelming scent—a potent, dizzying mix of cedarwood and violent storms—had made my heart race in pure, inexplicable panic. I had kept my head down the entire time, intimidated by his sheer Alpha presence.

"Well, well. Look who it is."

A sharp, grating voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Martha stepped directly into my path, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were narrowed, practically burning with a toxic mix of curiosity and bitter jealousy. The news of our high-ranking guests had clearly spread through the Omega quarters like wildfire.

"An Alpha at an Omega's table..." Martha sneered, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of passing Pack members. She looked me up and down with blatant disgust. "You must have some special tricks, even for a wolfless girl. Too bad no wolf wants to Mate a burden like you."

A few months ago, those words would have crushed me. But today, the ancient, quiet strength of my dormant White Wolf steadied my heartbeat. I didn't flush, and I didn't look away.

"My path is guided by the Moon Goddess, Martha," I replied, my voice calm and ringing with a quiet, unyielding authority that made her flinch. "I am dedicating myself to the ancient healing arts under Albin Todd. And I will wait for the Fated Mate the Goddess has chosen for me, rather than rushing into a desperate Pairing just to prove my worth to gossips."

Martha’s jaw dropped. The sheer, unwavering faith in my response made her petty, worldly insults sound incredibly shallow. The surrounding onlookers murmured, their judgmental stares shifting from me to her. Suffocated by her own embarrassment, Martha turned red and scurried away without another word.

I adjusted my frayed cloak and continued my walk, a new sense of dignity settling into my bones.

However, the moment I pushed open the heavy wooden door of Albin Todd's herbalist shop, that peace shattered.

"You poisoned me!" a hysterical voice shrieked.

Rosalie Vance was standing in the middle of the shop, sobbing uncontrollably. Albin stood behind the counter, looking completely overwhelmed. When Rosalie turned to me, my breath hitched. Her usually pretty face was covered in angry, inflamed red spots.

"My Pairing Ceremony is tomorrow!" Rosalie cried, lunging toward me. "I trusted you, you wolfless fraud! You ruined my face! You ruined my life!"

"Rosalie, please, breathe," I said, keeping my voice perfectly level as I stepped toward her. "I am so sorry I didn't warn you. The Glow Salve contains wolfsbane extract. It's pulling the deep-seated toxins and impurities to the surface. It's a purge, not a poison."

"I don't care about toxins! Look at me!" she wailed, her panic blinding her to reason.

"I can fix it right now. Let me help you," I offered softly.

Before she could slap my hands away, I gently cupped her inflamed cheeks. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Deep within my chest, the newly awakened White Wolf stirred. A faint, incredibly pure energy—cool as winter snow and smelling faintly of wild freesia—flowed from my core, down my arms, and pooled into my palms.

It was a Healer's Touch, but magnified by a divine bloodline.

Under my fingertips, the angry heat of Rosalie's skin rapidly cooled. The inflamed red spots visibly shrank, the swelling melting away like ice under the sun.

Rosalie’s sobs hitched. She opened her eyes, feeling the soothing, miraculous relief washing over her skin. She rushed to the small brass mirror on the counter. The angry breakout was entirely gone, leaving behind a flawless, radiant complexion.

"By the Goddess..." Rosalie whispered, her hands trembling as she touched her own cheeks. She turned back to me, her anger completely replaced by profound awe and shame. "Elara... I... I am so sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you."

After profusely thanking me, Rosalie practically floated out of the shop, her confidence fully restored.

I let out a long exhale, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. When I turned around, Albin Todd was staring at me. The gentle, grandfatherly affection he usually showed me was gone. In its place was absolute, unadulterated reverence.

"That wasn't just herbalism, Elara," Albin murmured, his aged voice trembling slightly. He looked at my hands as if they held the moon itself. "That was ancient magic. You... you are something this Pack hasn't seen in centuries."

He straightened his posture, a fierce determination settling into his weathered features. He knew, just as I did, that a gift like this couldn't stay hidden in the shadows of the Omega quarters for long.