Chapter 6 CHAPTER 6

The clearing emptied as night fell, leaving Elara alone with the thoughts of her father’s disappointment and her aunt’s gentle reassurance. Each step back to the pack house felt heavier than the last, as though the ground itself wanted to drag her down. By the time she reached her room, the sky had darkened, and the stars were shining brightly covering the sky. 

She decided not to turn on any lights; instead, she curled up by the window, knees drawn tight to her chest, staring out at the night sky. The silence gave her some comfort.

‘Elara.’

The voice filled her mind. Maia.

Elara closed her eyes. ‘You heard everything today. You heard her. Even my mother doubts me now.’

‘I hear more than words,’ Maia replied, her tone firmer than before. ‘I hear the fire in you. I hear the strength you keep trying to bury beneath their expectations. Your path is not theirs, Elara. It is not theirs to shape or decide.’

Elara’s throat tightened, her nails digging into her palms. ‘Different feels like failure. Every day I try, and every day I fall short. What if I’m not enough?’

‘You are enough,’ Maia said. ‘Not because you follow their rules, but because you are you. Power takes many forms. Yours is not broken, it is becoming.’

Elara pressed her forehead against her knees, tears stinging her eyes. ‘Then tell me what that means. What am I supposed to do?’

Maia’s voice softened, though it carried an edge that cut through her despair. ‘That is the question only you can answer. What do you truly want, Elara? Not what they demand. Not what tradition dictates. You.’

Elara’s breath caught. The words rose out loud before she could stop them. “I want… I want to be free. Free to choose my own path. Free to decide who I am, not have it decided for me.”

‘Then hold to that truth,’ Maia whispered. ‘Because freedom is not given, it is claimed. And when the time comes, you will claim it. Not as their heir, not as their legacy, but as yourself.’

Elara lifted her head, her gaze drawn to the stars beyond the window. For the first time in weeks, the knot in her chest loosened. The ache remained, but beneath it flickered something. Something that felt like the beginning of determination.

Elara had barely settled into her bed when the door burst open. Lyra, Kieran, Ana, and Arden walked in, blankets draped over their shoulders and arms full of snacks. Lyra grinned mischievously, tossing a pillow onto the floor. “Surprise, we’re having a sleepover.”

Elara blinked, pushing herself upright, her hair falling loose around her face. “What… what are you on about?”

Kieran dropped a basket of snacks onto her desk, smirking as though he’d won a battle. “Reminding you that you still have friends. You’ve been locked away with your parents so much, we thought you might’ve forgotten us.”

Ana spread a blanket neatly at the foot of the bed, her voice soft. “You shouldn’t abandon us just because you’re training. We’re still here, Elara. And we are here to remind you of that.”

Elara’s chest tightened. She looked at them, their familiar faces, their laughter spilling into her quiet room, and guilt pricked at her heart. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to neglect you. I just… everything feels so heavy. I didn’t realise how much I was shutting you out.”

Arden crossed her arms, though her tone was gentler than usual. “We’re concerned, Elara. You’re not the playful cousin we know. You’re carrying all this weight, and you don’t look happy anymore.”

Lyra flopped onto the bed beside her, nudging her shoulder with a grin that didn’t quite hide her worry. “Exactly. You’re supposed to laugh with us, not just drown in training and expectations. You’re allowed to be more than their heir, even during training.”

Elara swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I don’t know how to balance it. I feel like if I let go, even for a moment, I’ll fail them. Fail the pack.”

Ana reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “You won’t fail us. Not if you remember who you are and not if you let yourself breathe.”

Kieran leaned back against the wall, his voice softer than usual. “We don’t need the Arrax daughter tonight. We just need Elara, the cousin who used to sneak honey cakes from the kitchen and laugh until her stomach hurt.”

Elara’s lips curved faintly, the memory tugging at her heart. “I miss that too.”

Lyra’s grin widened, though her eyes glistened. “Then let’s bring her back, even if it’s just for tonight.”

They talked long into the night, about childhood games, about the future, about fears they rarely voiced. Arden teased Kieran until he threw a pillow at her, Ana shared quiet hopes she’d never spoken aloud, and Lyra kept the room alive with her fire. Slowly, the heaviness in Elara’s chest eased, replaced by the warmth of their presence.

One by one, her cousins drifted off to sleep, curled in blankets across the floor, their soft breathing filling the room with comfort.

Elara remained awake, her gaze drawn to the window. She rose quietly, careful not to wake them, and looked out at the sky. The stars shimmered brighter than before, and the moon hung full and luminous, bathing the world in silver light.

Something stirred deep within her. The moon’s glow didn’t just touch her skin; it seeped into the ache she carried, warming her heart. She swore it was speaking to her, whispering through the silence.

Find your own path, Elara. Claim it.

Her breath caught, tears pricking her eyes. She pressed her palm to the glass, the moonlight spilling over her fingers. For the first time, she felt not just hope, but a calling.

She whispered into the night, her voice steady despite the tears. “I will. I’ll find my own way.”

And beneath the watchful gaze of the full moon, Elara felt something shift inside her, a quiet promise, a spark of freedom waiting to ignite.