Silver Flame

The pot slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a loud clang, water splashing across the tiled floor. For a second everything in the kitchen went still, and then came the murmurs, low, sharp and familiar.

“She is always clumsy.”

“Useless.”

I bent to grab the pot with both hands setting it upright before reaching for the mop in the corner, gripping the mop handle tighter than necessary. My fingers had blistered from yesterday’s work. My knuckles ached, cracked from scrubbing the floors and too many hours in hot water, but that wasn’t new.

The others turned returned to their work, laughing quietly behind my back.I didn’t mind that. They hated me, and I wasn’t sure I blamed them anymore. I was used to the silence, the invisibility. What was new was the stares. When I stepped into the Packhouse hallway, it hit me like a cold draft: people were staring at me. Not glaring, not ignoring me like they usually did. Just watching.

Their eyes followed me as I passed, some filled with something close to sadness, others blank like unread pages. The weight of their gazes pressed on my back; something had happened. I pulled my sleeves down to hide the marks on my arms and kept walking.

“Aeurila.”

His voice stopped me in my tracks. Alpha Marcel stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “To my office.” I nodded, lowering my gaze as I followed him. The air grew thicker with every step; I had not done anything wrong. At least, I didn’t think I had.

At his door, I hesitated before knocking.

“Come in”

His voice sounded more tired than usual.

Inside, the room was neat, the scent of polished wood and pine lingering in the air. Polished desk, high backed chair. A faint hint of old cologne lingered in the air. He gestured to the seat across from him. I perched on the edge of the chair in front of his desk, knees pressed together, hands clenched in my lap. Alpha Marcel didn’t speak immediately.

“You’re not in trouble,” he said, folding his hands.

I nodded. What else was there to say?

“It’s about your mother.”

My breath caught mid-air. “I- Is she okay?”

He looked at me then as he opened a drawer and pulled out a white envelope. His thumb brushed the corner, but he didn’t open it. “She passed away early this morning.”

I couldn’t move, I was not sure if I was still breathing.

The words sat in the air, heavy and unmoving, like smoke that wouldn’t fade.

He said it so simply as if he was telling me that it might rain. Not that the only person who ever cared about me and looked at me with kindness was gone.

“No,” I said.

His brows furrowed.

“You’re lying,” I whispered. “You just want to hurt me, like everyone else.”

“Aeurila,”

“She’s not gone, she can’t be.” My voice rose, but it didn’t echo. The room absorbed it as if it had heard this kind of grief before.

“Can you still feel the link?” he asked gently.

I did not answer. He didn’t know. No one did.

No wolf. No bond. Just silence.

Tears blurred my vision, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. I wiped them quickly, ashamed.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

Alpha Marcel looked surprised, but he nodded. “Of course. Do you want to plan the funeral?”

I hesitated.

Why was he asking me that? Why the rush?

“She deserves to be buried with honor,” he added.

“An Alpha from the North will be visiting in two weeks. We’ll need to make the preparations.”

Of course.

Everything in the Pack was about timing. Appearances. Politics over pain. That was the way of the pack.

I left the office without another word.

The hospital was too quiet. The white corridors stretched endlessly, walls too clean, too sterile. When I reached the room, I paused at the door.

A white sheet covered her body. I stepped closer, breath trembling.

“Mom” My voice cracked.

My knees buckled as I dropped beside her on the bed. I pressed my forehead against her cold arm, the only part not hidden beneath the sheet. My tears came then, silent and sudden.

“Why would you leave me here?” My whisper trembled in the quiet room. “I’m not ready, I still need you.” “Who is going to remind me to smile? Who is going to tell me that everything will be okay eventually?”

The machines around her had been turned off. No beeping. No soft humming. Just silence.

I wanted her to open her eyes. To smile. But she didn’t move. There was no answer. I waited anyway.

The funeral came faster than I expected. No time to grieve. I stood in front of her grave as the wind tugged at the edges of my dress. Only a few Pack members showed up, Alpha Marcel, Beta Elijah, a handful of elders. Not nearly enough.

No friends. No neighbors. No one to grieve her but me.

I didn’t cry, not then. I just stared at the mound of dirt as it covered the only person who ever saw me.

A breeze stirred the trees as the last prayer was said. The others began to leave.

When the last clump of earth fell, a small white flower had fallen nearby; I picked it up and placed it atop the grave.

That night, I didn’t return to the Packhouse right away. I stayed in the kitchen garden sitting under the old fig tree she used to gather herbs. The moon was a thin silver above me, barely glowing.

I pulled my knees to my chest, a part of me waited for someone to come looking for me, to ask if I was okay but no one came. I don’t know how long I sat there, listening to the wind rustling through the branches as something inside me went quiet, not broken, just still. She was gone and I was alone.

Two days had passed since the funeral, but I still woke up expecting to hear her humming in the next room. My mind played cruel tricks, placing her voice in the wind, her footsteps in the hallway, her warmth in every patch of sunlight I walked through. She was gone, but my body hadn’t caught up to the truth yet.

The broom scratched softly against the floor as I swept the corridor outside the Alpha’s office. Dusts gathered in the corner, stubborn, like everything else in this place. The Packhouse buzzed behind me, heels tapping, voices murmuring, and tension thickening like morning fog.

They were preparing.

Rooms were cleaned twice, polished until the wooden floors gleamed like mirrors. Trays of food were ordered, new sheets were pulled from locked cabinets, beta Elijah backed instructions to the warriors drilling on the training fieldlike we were going to war. But it was not war they were expecting.

It was him. The Alpha from the North.

Rumors moved faster than footsteps. Some said he was here to form an alliance, others whispered he was looking for his fated mate. No one knew for sure and no one dared to ask.

I didn’t care. The ache in my chest was still fresh, and I didn’t have room for politics or fairy tales.

I paused by the window, watching a group of warriors sparring in the training field. Their grunts and growls reached me faintly through the glass. The sky above them threatened rain, clouds dragging their shadows across the tress.

I turned back to my chores. When I reached the warriors’ quarters, the scent hit me, sweat, pine soap, old leather and me. I wrinkled my nose and got to work. Sheets stripped, floors scrubbed, pillows fluffed. I moved methodically, hands working while my mind wandered.

I didn’t see him, the Northern Alpha. But I’d heard enough about him to know he was not someone to be easily ignored. They said he was strong, stronger than any Alpha alive. His pack was the largest in the region, maybe even in the continent. And he never smiled.

Not unless he meant it. As I bent to tuck in the final corner of the bed, something in my chest twisted. A strange sensation, like being pulled forward by invisible thread. I paused, pressing a hand to my chest. It pulsed again.

A tightness, a tug. I straightened, breath shallow.

What was that?

The scent hit me next. Earthy, wild and sharp like snow and pine after a storm. Wild and intoxicating. It didn’t belong here. My legs started moving before I even made the choice. I dropped the sheet on the bed and followed the pull, each step growing heavier, but unstoppable.

The scent pulled me towards the Packhouse front wing, down the hall, past the stairs, into the main house. The scent grew stronger.

Voices drifted from Alpha Marcel’s office. Deep ones, one familiar, one not.

I didn’t knock, I never did. But my hand hovered above the door. The scent slammed into me again, it wrapped around my senses and pulled something loose inside me, something ancient and raw.

I could hear them now.

“… not here for war,” said a voice I didn’t recognize. Low and smooth but with a rough edge beneath it.

Alpha Marcel responded, but I didn’t catch the words. My heart pounded too loudly. Then I heard it. A shift in the air, a pause in the conversation.

“Come in” the stranger called.

I pushed the door open slowly. The world stooped.

The man who turned to face was unlike anyone I had ever seen. Tall, broad shouldered, dressed in black, tailored and precise. Then there were his blue eyes, they were not the soft blue of the skies or calm oceans, rather, they were winter. Ice, like cold fire. And they locked onto me with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. Time slipped sideways.

“Mate” something inside me whispered.

My knees almost buckled.

He stood still, but his jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides.

“I finally found you,” he said, his voice strained.

I blinked, my mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Alpha Marcel stood slowly. “Alpha Kieran?” he asked, confused. “What’s going on?”

Kieran didn’t look away from me. “She’s my mate.”

The silence was deafening.

My stomach dropped.

“No” I said quickly, shaking my head. “That’s not… I think you’re mistaken.”

“I’m not.”

His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it like he was holding back.

His eyes searched mine but I couldn’t hold the gaze. I looked down, took a step back.

It couldn’t be. Not me. Not the girl who scrubbed the blood out of the training room mats, not the one who wasn’t even sure she had a wolf.

I backed away until my hand touched the door.

“No” I whispered again. “This is a mistake.”

Then I turned and ran.

Down the hall, past the kitchen, past the curious eyes and frozen warriors.

I didn’t stop until I reached the edge of the Pack’s territory. The trees welcomed me with rustling leaves and the familiar crunch of pine beneath my sandals.

I let myself fall to my knees and buried my face in my hands.

The wind tugged at my hair.

“Why me?” I whispered to the sky.

Why now?

No answer came, only silence.

Only that voice again, soft, persistent, primal.

“Mate”.

The bond curled inside me, warm and terrifying. I could still feel his presence even from here. I wasn't ready for this, wasn’t worthy of it. A rustle behind me made me flinch, I turned expecting one of the warriors, but it was him. Kieran stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable , his eyes were softer now, although still intense.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly. “I only followed because I couldn’t stay away.”

I didn’t respond.

“I won’t force you,” he added. “I just wanted to be near you.”

He took a cautious step closer, and then sat on the grass, still a few feet away. “You don’t believe this is real.”

I shook my head, hugging my knees. “I don’t understand why the Moon Goddess would choose me for you.”

His smile was small and sad. “Maybe she sees something you can’t yet.”

I swallowed hard, staring down. “I don’t even have a wolf.”

“Yes, you do,” he said without hesitation. “I can feel her. She’s asleep, hurt, maybe. Just know she’s there.”

Tears welled in my eyes.

“I am not giving up on you, Aeurila,” Kieran said. “I came here looking for my mate and I found her. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

I looked up at him then. For the first time since he sat on the grass, I let myself really look at him. I didn’t feel afraid, just overwhelmed, and that for now was enough.

The sun was still low when I stepped into the warriors’ quarters the next morning. My body moved like it belonged to someone else, silent and drained. The smell of old sweat clung to the air, but I didn’t mind, it was familiar.

I clutched the folded blankets to my chest as I made my way to the far rooms where the visiting Alpha and his beta were to stay. Every step felt like a countdown to something I didn’t want to name.

Kieran.

I couldn’t sleep. Even after he left me in the woods last night, I felt him in the air, in the thrum of something half-awake inside me, like a drumbeat from under the surface. He said he wouldn’t force me, that he’d wait. But then again, waiting didn’t mean the bond would.

I pushed open the first room and began stripping the bed. My fingers trembled slightly as I smoothed the sheets and tucked in the corners. It wasn’t fear, it was the weight of being seen not by anyone but by him. The most powerful Alpha in the region.

And I was me. Still a shadow in my own pack, wolfless, haunted by the echo of my mother’s voice and the fresh wound of her loss.

I paused by the window, the sunlight slanting across the floor like golden threads. I could see the trees swaying gently. The world hadn’t changed even if mine had titled on its axis.

As I moved to the second room, the bond stirred again, warm and insistent, like a thread tightening between us. I dropped the pillow I had been holding to and sat on the edge of the bed, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes.

“You’re okay,” I whispered to myself. “You’re okay, he is just a man.”

The voice in my head did not agree.

Mate.

I shook my head and stood; pushing the feeling down, locking it in some part of me; I didn’t have the courage to explore yet.

Voices drifted up from the main house as I returned the linens and finished my tasks. I recognized Alpha Marcel’s voice, tight and professional and another, warmer which belonged to Beta Elijah.

They were trying to act normal, but the scent of nervousness, sharp and bitter, hung in the air like smoke. The pack wasn’t just preparing rooms and foods, they were preparing themselves. The arrival of the Northern Alpha was more than a political visit, it was a reckoning.

I slipped out of the side door and made my way around the back of the house, where the herb garden grew wild and quiet. It used to be my mother’s favorite spot, her scent had long faded, but I could still feel her here.

I sat on the low stonewall, pulling my knees up to my chest. The breeze teased my hair across my face, I didn’t brush it away. The footsteps came minutes later, deliberate and steady. My body knew who it was before my eyes confirmed it.

Kieran stepped around the corner, stopping when he saw me. He didn’t speak right away.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” he asked.

His voice was softer than I remembered, it was careful.

I shook my head. “This part of the Pack doesn’t get visitors.”

He smiled, just a little. “I’m honored then.”

I expected him to come closer, but he didn’t. He sat a few feet away on the grass, back straight, hands resting on his knees like he was in no rush.

“I thought you might be avoiding me,” he said after a pause.

“I was.”

He chuckled. “Honest.”

“I don’t know how to be anything else.”

Silence fell again, but not the uncomfortable kind. Just space. Space to think and breathe.

“I know this is a lot,” Kieran said finally. “You didn’t ask for this.”

I didn’t think I’d get this,” I murmured. “A mate.”

He didn’t speak, waiting for me to continue.

“I haven’t even shifted,” I admitted. “There’s no wolf, no connection, just emptiness.”

Kieran titled his head. “There’s something, I can feel her. She’s quiet but she’s there. I think she’s just waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to believe in her.”

His words made something ache in my chest.

“I don’t know how,” I whispered.

“Then I’ll wait until you do.”

We sat there for a while. Long enough for the wind to change direction, for the sun to slide higher in the sky. He didn’t push, didn’t ask more than I could give.

It wasn’t the kind of silence I was used to. This one wasn’t heavy or judgmental. It was safe.

Eventually, he stood. “I’ll be in meetings most of the afternoon, pack stuff.”

I nodded, still not looking at him.

He hesitated, then added, “But if you ever want to talk or just sit like this again, I’ll be around.”

I looked up then. His gaze met mine, steady and warm.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

He nodded once and walked away.

Later that day, I returned to the main house to deliver fresh tea to the Alpha’s office. My chest still buzzed from the earlier conversation. I could hear voices from inside the room, Marcel, Elijah, and Kieran. The door was slightly ajar.

“She’s been through a lot,” Marcel was saying. “I should have done more, I let her fall through the cracks.”

“No,” Kieran replied firmly. “She didn’t fall, she was pushed.”

I froze outside the door, my heart thudding.

“She’s strong,” Kieran continued. “Stronger than most wolves I’ve met. You can’t see it because you were too used to looking through her.”

There was silence.

Then Elijah spoke, “We didn’t realize.”

Kieran’s voice was calm, but held steel. “Well, now you do.”

I stepped back, quietly walking away before anyone notice I had been there. My face felt hot, my chest tight.

No one had ever spoken about me like that. Not even my mother. Kieran saw me.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t cry not because I wasn’t sad, but because I didn’t have space for tears. My emotions were a tangled mess of confusion, fear, longing, and something warm.

He said he would wait and for the first time in a long time, I wanted to believe him.

I didn’t sleep again. Not from nightmares, not from sorrow, just noise. Quiet, insistent noise inside my head. The bond stirred every time I tried to rest. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t let me go either, like it was waiting.

By morning, I gave up on sleep and pulled on my work dress, the same one I wore every day, plain gray, fraying at the hem. I tugged my hair into a loose braid and stepped into the cold hallway. The Packhouse hummed, doors opening, boots stomping, warriors barking orders to one another. There was tension in the air, but it wasn’tfear, it was expectation.

Alpha Kieran was still here and everyone was pretending it wasn’t changing anything, they were liars. I passed two younger she-wolves chatting near the stairwell, their voices increased when they saw me.

“He’s gorgeous,” one of them whispered. “Have you seen his eyes?”

The other girl giggled. “They say he’s here for a mate.”

My chest tightened. They didn’t know. No one had said anything officially. No announcement, no celebration. Just the heavy silence that pressed on my skin like damp fog. I wondered if Marcel had told anyone, or if Beta Elijah had said anything. If Kieran was waiting for me to decide what came next. I wasn’t sure what that was yet.

At the courtyard, I found a quiet corner and started washing the linens Alpha Marcel had mindlinked about me earlier. My hands moved on instinct, scrub, rinse, wring, repeat. The scent of soap filled the air, sharp and clean.

“You always work this early?”

I nearly dropped the sheet. Kieran’s voice was calm but unexpected. He stood at the edge of the stone path, arms folded loosely over his chest. Today, he wore a dark olive tunic, simple but refined. He looked out of place here, like a wolf among dogs.

I nodded and turned back to the wash basin.

“Someone has to.”

He stepped closer, then crouched beside me, not saying anything for a moment. His presence was overwhelming but not threatening.

“Is it hard?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“Hiding everything.”

I blinked. The question landed harder than I expected.

“I’m not hiding,” I said. “I just don’t say much.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

I didn’t respond. He reached into the basin and picked up one of the soaked linens, wringing it out like he did this every day. It should have looked absurd, an Alpha doing laundry, but it didn’t. It looked kind.

“I think you’re afraid,” he said.

I laughed, short and dry. “That’s not much of a guess.”

“Not of me, of mattering.”

I stopped, hands frozen in the water. He wasn’t wrong, that was the worst part. Because when no one saw you, you couldn’t disappoint them. When no one believed in you, you didn’t have to try, you didn’t have to risk being more.

He kept his eyes on the sheet as he folded it neatly and placed it in the basket. “You matter to me.”

My throat tightened. I didn’t want to hear that, not yet. Not while I still felt like a broken thing wearing skin.

Later that day, I overheard Alpha Marcel and Beta Elijah talking in the Alpha’s office. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I’d gone in to deliver their afternoon tea and paused when I heard my name.

“I still don’t understand,” Elijah said, his voice low. “How could someone like her be fated to someone like him.”

I froze outside the door, the tray balance on my hands.

“She’s unshifted, she’s quiet, she’s barely visible to anyone. She’s invisible.”

Alpha Marcel sighed. “And maybe that’s why , maybe the moon goddess sees what we don’t.”

Silence followed.

Then Kieran’s voice, deeper than either of theirs, quieter but full of steel.

“She’s not invisible, she’s surviving.”

I swallowed and turned away, walking quickly down the hall before someone noticed me.

By sunset, I had retreated again to the old garden behind the infirmary. My mother used to grow healing herbs here, and the soil still remembered her touch. I sat on the low bench she built from scrap wood and stone, pulling weeds, just for something to do.

The scent came first. Pine, frost and wolf. Kieran. He sat beside me without a word. We just sat, shoulders not quite touching, hearts beating louder than the breeze.

“I think the Moon Goddess made a mistake,” I whispered eventually.

“I don’t,” he replied, immediate and certain.

“I’m not strong, I’m not fast and I don’t even have my wolf.”

“You do.”

I shook my head. “No, I would feel her.”

“She’s there,” he said. “Sleeping, maybe waiting for you to believe in her.”

“That’s not fair,” I whispered. “How do I believe in something that’s never shown up for me?”

He didn’t answer first, then softly; “sometimes the strongest wolves are the ones who have learned to survive without shifting, not because they’re weak but because they had to grow teeth in silence.”

That silenced me.

“I don’t know how to be what you need,” I admitted.

“I don’t need anything,” he said. “I only want you, however you are, wherever you are.”

“I’m not ready,” I said.

He nodded. “Then I’ll wait.”

He stood, and for the first time, reached for my hand. Not to pull, not to demand, just to hold it. I didn’t pull away.

The next morning began like every other, quiet, cold and early. The Packhouse had a rhythm, and I had grown used to fitting myself into the cracks of it, slipping through unnoticed but today, the cracks felt tighter, the air heavier. Words had begun to spread about me.

I could feel it in the way people looked at me now. Curious, uneasy. Like I was a puzzle they hadn’t noticed before, and now they were being told it was important. Someone bumped into me in the hallway, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make a point.

“You?” a voice said behind me. “Really?”

I kept walking, I didn’t respond. What was I supposed to say? Yes, the Moon Goddess matched me to the most powerful Alpha in the region. The same girl who mopped floors and fetched tea. The same who had not even shifted. The whispers followed me as I passed.

“She’s just an omega.”

“Can’t be real, must be a trick.”

I ducked into the storage room, heart pounding against my ribs; the scent of cleaning supplies did little to calm the rising nausea. They didn’t know me but somehow their words still knew where to cut.

Kieran didn’t seek me out that morning and I was grateful for that. I needed time to breathe, to think, to mourn. Not just my mother, but the version of myself I had lived with for so long, the girl who believed she would die in this pack without ever being anything more than a shadow. Now, everything was shifting and I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.

After finishing my chores, I walked toward the edge of the pack border, near the clearing where my mother used to collect roots for healing. The trees here were older, the canopy thicker, the light more muted. It was quiet, my kind of quiet or it was until the bond tugged. Faint but insistent, like a whisper pulling at my core. I turned already knowing.

He stood between the trees, his coat dark against the green, hands in his pockets. Kieran didn’t speak at first, he just looked at me with those ice blue eyes like he could hear every thought I was trying to bury.

“Can I walk with you?”

I nodded. We moved side by side in silence, the wind carrying pine and rain on its back.

“People are talking,” I said finally.

“I know.”

“They think I don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t care what they think.”

“”But I do.”

He stopped walking, turning toward me. “Why?”

I blinked.

“Why does their opinion get to decide who you are?” he asked. “They didn’t make you, they didn’t raise you, they didn’t suffer with you. So why do they get a say?”

I didn’t have an answer.

He stepped closer. “You’re not the lady they think you are.”

“I don’t even know who I am.”

His gaze softened, “then let’s find out together.”

That night, Alpha Marcel hosted a formal dinner in the pack for Kieran and his warriors and I was expected to asssit in the serving, not sitting, not speaking, just working. As I placed glasses beside each plate, I could feel the eyes again, watching and measuring.

When I reached Kieran’s seat at the end of the long table, his hand brushed mine briefly as I set the final goblet. The contact sent a bolt of heat up my arm I pulled back quickly.

“Thank you Aeurila,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Every head turned. A name, spoken by him. I lowered my gaze and stepped away. The room buzzed after that, hushed voices, glances tossed like daggers.

I didn’t stay, as soon as my part was done, I left through the back corridor, the warmth from Kieran’s voice still pulsing in my chest.

Later that night, I sat on the small stone bench behind the herb garden again. The moon was high and full, casting pale light across the empty yard. I thought I was alone but then came the crunch of boots on gravel.

Kieran. He approached slowly, as always, like he didn’t want to startle me.

“You didn’t eat dinner,” he said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You didn’t sit, either.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

He didn’t like that, I could see it in the way his jaw tensed.

“You don’t need an invitation to sit beside your mate.”

“That’s not how it works here,” I said softly.

He crouched in front of me, gaze steady. “Then the way it works here needs to change.”

I looked at him. At the man who had found me in a sea of faces and said, ‘You matter’

“Why me?” I asked for the umpteenth time.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’ve stopped questioning the Moon Goddess when she shows me something sacred.”

I swallowed hard. My hands were shaking again.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“I know.”

I’ve spent my life surviving; I don’t know how to live.”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

He stood and offered his hand, not to pull me, not to own me, but to walk with me and for the first time; I reached back and took it.