Chapter 4 CHAPTER 4

Elara skipped dinner; her appetite was gone. The hum of voices in the hall faded behind her as she walked alone towards the clearing. The air was cool; the sky was a burst of colours as the sun began to set. She lowered herself into the grass at the centre, knees drawn up, gazing at the horizon.

She sat in silence, with only a slight disruption by the rustling of leaves around her. She shut her eyes, took a breath of the air, and tried to calm herself down.

Then she heard footsteps behind her. Lyra’s voice called softly, “I knew I’d find you here.” She stepped into the clearing. Kieran followed, holding something wrapped in cloth.

They sat beside her, and Lyra looped an arm around her shoulders. Kieran settled cross-legged opposite her, his usual mischief replaced by concern.

Elara’s voice was soft. “I’ve decided... I’m going to take this training seriously. Whether I like it or not, it’s who I am. I know what my parents went through to protect me, every threat, every sacrifice. I’m not stupid. I know the Forgotten Pack is still out there, and they won’t stop until they stop the Matchmaker and us completely. I need to be able to defend the pack.”

Lyra’s grip tightened. “Elara, your parents weren’t just protecting their heir. They were protecting their child. Any parent would do the same, and they would do the same for any children in the pack.”

Elara shook her head; her gaze fixed on the fading light. “I know. But it wasn’t only about me. It was about securing the pack, their legacy. That’s what this has always been about. If I can’t shift, then I’ll excel in other areas. I’ll find another way to protect us.”

Kieran leaned forward, unwrapping the cloth to reveal bread, cheese, and dried fruit. He placed it between them. “You’ll be amazing no matter what you do. But being amazing at something and being happy… those are two different things.”

Elara knew he was right. “Maybe. But if happiness has to wait, then so be it. Right now, the pack comes first.”

Lyra briefly rested her forehead against Elara’s shoulder. “Then we’ll be with you every step of the way. Training, fighting, whatever comes or whatever is needed or expected of you. You won’t face any of this alone.”

Kieran raised a piece of bread like a toast, his grin returning. “To Elara. Our leader, whether she shifts or not.”

Lyra echoed him, lifting a piece of dried fruit. “To Elara. Our cousin, our family, and most importantly, our best friend.”

Elara let out a shaky laugh. She reached for the bread, breaking it in half, and, for the first time that day, she felt the weight of expectation lighten; it wasn't entirely gone, but it was shared. And that was enough for now.

The next morning, Elara accompanied her parents into the office for her first proper shadowing lesson, her stomach clenched with nerves. Papers were arranged neatly across the desk, and Nikolas signalled for her to sit to the side while he and Saphira got started.

Saphira’s voice was calm as she reviewed staffing issues at the Matchmaker. “We need to rotate shifts more fairly. Some of the younger members are exhausted, and if they feel overlooked, resentment will grow. Loyalty is built when people know they are seen.” She glanced at Elara, giving her a soft smile. “Remember, leadership isn’t just about giving orders, it’s about listening. Sometimes the smallest act of kindness keeps the pack at its strongest.”

Elara nodded quickly, wanting to believe she could lead that way, with empathy guiding her and ensuring all pack members were acknowledged.

Nikolas leaned forward, his tone was harsher than Saphira’s, cutting through her thoughts. “Kindness has its place, but authority must also be clear. If the pack think they can dictate their own schedules or rules, then chaos ensues. They need to understand who is in charge.” His gaze flicked to Elara. “That’s what keeps order. Strength first, empathy second.”

Elara swallowed hard, her fingers twisting together in her lap. Strength first, empathy second. She would never say it out loud, but she disagreed.

Saphira gave him a look but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to the next matter, a request from several families for separate housing away from the main pack house. “They want space, privacy. We should consider it. Sometimes loyalty becomes stronger when people feel trusted to live independently.”

Nikolas shook his head. “Separate housing can also weaken unity. So if they want privacy, they can earn it, but the pack house remains the heart. They must remember that.”

Elara listened, torn between her mother’s gentle reasoning and her father’s firm authority. Both sides would work, and they both felt genuine. But where do I belong between them?

When the discussions ended, Nikolas leaned back in his chair, his gaze resting on Elara. “You’ll assist behind the scenes, handling intimate issues and smaller matters that require a gentle touch. But when it comes to representing the pack, your mate will take that role. We need a male authority, as I have been.”

Elara froze, her breath catching. “What’s the point of all this training, then? If my mate, whoever you arrange for me, walks straight into the role untrained, while I’m the one doing the work?” Her voice cracked as her frustration rose. I am meant to be the new leader, the so-called heir, so why am I not the one ruling?

Saphira’s expression softened. “It isn’t arranged, Elara. It will be based on the best choice for the pack’s survival. You will still lead, but in a different way, a way that matters and suits the pack.”

Elara clenched her jaw, anger rising within her at these ridiculous ways.

“You will be trained because you are still taking over our legacy. You need to be as strong as us, regardless of who stands at the front. Strength is not optional. It is your duty.” Nikolas said, his tone final.

Elara’s hands clenched into fists in her lap, her nails digging into her skin. She wanted to scream, to demand why her worth was always linked to someone else. Instead, she remained silent, as they expected her to be. The fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the space where her voice should have been.

This isn’t what I want.