Chapter 2 2

In the heart of the pack, Veyron was nothing short of a legend. Born under a full moon on the cusp of the autumnal equinox, he carried the weight of his heritage with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. At nineteen, he was already celebrated as the heir apparent, his strength and strategic mind making him not only respected but revered.

As the son of the Alpha, he bore the expectations of a legacy built on power and loyalty, and every day, he rose to meet those expectations with effortless poise.

The pack adored him, and in his presence, admiration came naturally. His tall, imposing figure commanded attention, and his intense, storm-gray eyes held a depth and intelligence that unsettled anyone who dared meet his gaze for too long. When he spoke, his voice carried an authority that brooked no argument, and the wolves around him instinctively deferred to his wisdom, even though his father still officially led them. Veyron was every bit the Alpha-to-be.

But as much as he was respected, Veyron was equally sought after. The pack's females watched him with thinly veiled longing, hopeful for a chance to catch his attention, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Veyron, however, was not easily swayed by flirtations or shallow advances. He had a clear image of what his Luna should be, and so far, only one female in the pack came close to fitting that vision.

That female was Helga.

Helga was as close to perfection as one could imagine. She was beautiful, with golden hair that fell in shimmering waves over her shoulders and a face that seemed sculpted by moonlight itself. Her delicate yet regal features and soft, doe-brown eyes sparkled with intelligence. She carried herself with quiet confidence, her every movement graceful and deliberate, as though she were already assuming the role of Luna in her heart.

Helga was his mother's choice and preference. She had even been introduced to Veyron by his mother as a potential mate and a suitable substitute in case he didn't find his fated one.

The pack elders approved of her as well. Helga was not only beautiful but also known for her kindness, competence, and dedication to the pack's well-being. She volunteered with the younger wolves, organized events, and was always present during training sessions, watching and learning alongside the warriors. To the pack, she embodied everything a Luna should be. To Veyron, she was more than suitable-a worthy partner who could stand by his side, sharing the responsibilities and expectations of the Luna role.

Today, as Veyron walked across the training grounds with his younger brother, he caught sight of Helga talking with some of the young Betas. She glanced over, meeting Veyron's gaze with a warm smile, and he felt a sense of pride settle in his chest.

"Thinking about Helga again?" his younger brother, Asher, teased, nudging him playfully. Asher was almost a mirror of Veyron, though where Veyron's gaze was intense, Asher's was softer, more inviting. Despite being an Alpha wolf as well, Asher was free of the weighty responsibilities Veyron bore, leaving him room to observe his older brother's life with humor.

"She has the makings of a great Luna," Veyron replied thoughtfully. "She's strong, respected... and the pack trusts her."

Asher chuckled, shaking his head. "Strong, beautiful, and accomplished. Just say you like her already."

Veyron smirked mildly but didn't rise to the playful bait. Asher was right, of course, in his own way. He did like Helga, but he also saw her through the lens of duty and pragmatism. She was a perfect match for him-not only because of her qualities but because she brought the dignity and loyalty the pack required. If he could choose anyone as his Luna, it would definitely be her.

As they continued their walk, Asher spotted his friend, Evanna, among the younger wolves finishing their training.

The Beta wolf, Evanna, was beautiful, fiercely loyal to her family and displayed a determined spirit that set her apart from others her age. She was sparring with one of the older boys. Seeing Asher, she waved at him with a grin, which he returned with equal enthusiasm. Watching her reminded him of his own training days, and a touch of pride flared in his heart.

But before he could dwell on it, his gaze shifted, catching an unexpected sight-Rona, the pack runt, lingering near the edge of the grounds. She watched the others with a wistful expression, staying at a distance. Her presence drew a few disdainful glances, and some young wolves began whispering, casting judgemental looks in her direction.

Asher looked away, he found it a bit sad the way their pack treated her. Rona who was born an outcast, faced disdain for circumstances beyond her control. The pack was supposed to function in peace and unity treating a member as worse than scum for no justifiable reason was just inexcusable. However, despite the opposition and bullying, Rona tried her best to participate in pack activities, working harder than anyone to prove her worth, even when her presence was vilified.

Veyron's view of her was even worse. To him, she served no meaningful purpose within the pack's structure. An Omega and a half-breed, she was the product of a scandal that still lingered like a stain on the pack's reputation. To Veyron, she was a non-entity-irrelevant to his life and responsibilities. He spared her no thought, focusing instead on far more pressing matters.

As they reached the edge of the clearing, Helga approached, her smile as bright as morning light. "Veyron," she greeted warmly, her voice soft but firm, radiating calm assurance. "I was just talking with the younger wolves about their training. They did well, but a few of them need to work on their balance."

Veyron nodded, impressed as always by her insight. "I'm sure they'll benefit from your guidance, Helga. You have a natural touch with them."

Asher grinned, glancing between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I'll leave you two to... discuss pack matters. I'll go help Evanna finish her sparring."

With that, he slipped away, leaving Veyron and Helga alone. For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, the weight of unspoken words filling the air.

The Mating Ceremony would soon take place. Helga, whom he was courting on the side, had been asking him to make their relationship official, but Veyron was waiting for the ceremony. That night, he would find his fated mate-the one the Moon Goddess had made just for him.

He hoped it was Helga. He believed, to some degree, that it would be her. Yet, a small inkling of doubt held him back. For some reason, he hesitated, insistent on waiting until after the ceremony.

Regardless, his Luna would be someone worthy of the pack's respect and admiration. Anything less was unthinkable.