Chapter 4 The Weight of What’s Coming

Morning in Black Pine always began the same way: the river’s roar against stone, the first crack of training blades in the yard, the smell of bread rising in the communal ovens. It was a rhythm as old as the pack itself, and though I’d learned every beat, I never stopped feeling like the tempo was pushing me somewhere I didn’t want to go.

I moved through it anyway—running drills, sharpening blades, nodding at the warriors who greeted me with respect that sometimes felt heavier than armor. To them, I was Beta Rowan’s daughter, Mira’s spitfire shadow, a girl destined to stand beside power. To me, I was just a wolf trying to breathe.

If there was one person who cut through all of that, it was Liora. My best friend, my chosen sister. She had hair the color of chestnuts and a laugh that could turn a punishment detail into a festival. We had grown up shoulder to shoulder—sharing meals, sparring sessions, secrets whispered under blankets during pack retreats.

Liora was the one who snuck human music players into our den when we were thirteen, who painted our pack’s crest on her shield in gold just because it made her smile. She wanted the mate bond with all the starry-eyed hope of the old tales, and though I rolled my eyes, I never mocked her. She knew my truth, and I knew hers. That was the foundation of us.

“You’re scowling again,” she teased as we carried practice spears toward the yard. “If you keep it up, someone will think Kier has done something to you.”

I snorted. “If Kier had done something, you’d have heard me already.”

Her grin widened. “Don’t act like the whole pack isn’t waiting for that bond to snap into place. Everyone says it would be perfect. Alpha and Beta’s daughter. You two already fight like mated wolves.”

“I fight him because he deserves it,” I muttered, though my chest tightened. I hated that it was true: eyes lingered on us whenever we sparred. Whispers followed when we walked the same path.

Liora bumped my shoulder with hers. “Maybe the moon goddess knows better than you think.”

“Or maybe the moon goddess doesn’t care what I think,” I shot back, sharper than I meant. She only raised her brows in that way she had, the one that said she understood even when she didn’t agree. That was why I loved her.

Later, after drills, I found Kier sitting on the fence rail overlooking the yard, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His shirt was tossed beside him, chest gleaming with the sweat from sparring. He looked less like the future Alpha then and more like a boy carrying expectations too heavy for one set of shoulders.

I leaned against the post beside him. “You’re sloppy today.”

“Thank you for the encouragement,” he said dryly, tossing me a canteen.

I took a drink and tossed it back. “What’s on your mind?”

He sighed, tilting his head back to the sky. “The same thing that’s always on everyone’s mind. It’s like the whole pack is holding its breath, waiting for me to become something I’m not sure I want to be yet.”

My throat tightened. For a moment, I almost didn’t speak. But then the words slipped out. “I’m scared.”

Kier’s head snapped toward me. His eyes—pale as winter—searched mine. “The mate bond?”

“Yes.” The word felt like breaking a dam. I folded my arms across my chest, bracing myself. “Everyone acts like it’s this blessing, this miracle. But what if it’s a chain? What if the moon goddess ties me to someone I don’t choose? Someone who doesn’t see me for me?”

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the rustle of pine branches. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t mock me. He just sat there, jaw tight.

“I don’t think you’re wrong,” he said finally, voice low. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s less about love and more about control. The moon goddess chooses, and suddenly our choices don’t matter. You’re right—it’s terrifying.”

I blinked at him. “You’ve thought about this?”

He shrugged one shoulder, but his gaze stayed steady. “Of course. Everyone thinks I want the role, the responsibility, all of it. Maybe I do. But sometimes it feels like… like the moon doesn’t care if I’m ready. Or if I want it on my terms.”

For a moment, I forgot to breathe. This was the Kier no one else saw—the boy beneath the Alpha title, the one who understood chains even if they were forged in silver light.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he said, and there was steel in his voice I hadn’t expected. “Sable, if the mate bond form's for us—or for you with anyone—I swear it won’t erase who you are. You’re too damn stubborn for that.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “That’s the nicest insult I’ve ever heard.”

His smile crooked, tired but real. “Good. Then remember it when the world get too loud.”

We sat there in silence after that, side by side, the weight of the future pressing close. The pack might see inevitability between us, but in that moment, all I saw was the boy who understood fear the way I did.

The packhouse quieted after sunset, its great halls echoing only with the soft padding of wolves making their final rounds and the distant hum of the kitchen fires dying down. I slipped away from the yard and found Liora exactly where I knew she’d be—curled up in the loft above the stables, a lantern flickering beside her.

She was sprawled on a pile of old hay bales, humming some tune she must have picked up from the human radio she smuggled into her room last year. When she spotted me, she grinned and patted the space beside her.

“Well? Did you knock Kier on his ass again?”

“Twice,” I said, climbing up. “But he made me work for it.”

Liora laughed, tossing me a strip of dried meat she’d stolen from the kitchens. “You realize every warrior in the pack would kill to see that fight? Half of them already act like it’s some kind of lovers’ quarrel.”

I groaned, flopping onto my back beside her. “Don’t start.”

“Why not? It’s true. The way he looks at you—like you’re already his.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” I muttered, chewing hard to keep my temper down. “Everyone thinks the mate bond is some kind of fairytale ending. What if it’s not? What if it’s a leash?”

Liora turned on her side, chin propped on her hand, studying me with the kind of patience only she had. “You’ve been carrying this fear a long time, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” The word came out raw. “Since I was old enough to see how much power it has over people. My mom and dad—it works for them, I guess. But I’ve seen too many women lose themselves. Their art, their freedom, their voice. I can’t let that be me.”

Her face softened. “Sable… I believe in the bond. I believe it can be beautiful. But I also believe in you more. You’re not someone who disappears because of anyone—not even a mate chosen by the moon goddess .”

I swallowed hard, blinking against the tightness in my chest. “And if it is Kier?”

She smirked. “Then you’ll probably make his life hell before you ever let him make you small.”

That broke me into laughter, shaky but real. I leaned against her shoulder, the comfort of her presence grounding me.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Always,” she said, no hesitation.