Chapter 5 News

The morning sun spilled through the thin curtains, casting golden streaks across the small, modest room. Dust motes floated lazily in the light, undisturbed.

A quiet knock.

Then another.

"Elira," came the whisper-soft voice, followed by the creak of a wooden door being nudged open.

Elira groaned lightly, shifting beneath the woven blankets. Her dark curls fanned across her pillow as she cracked one eye open.

"Elira, come on," Seraphine's voice reached her again, softer now almost coaxing. "Wake up."

Elira squinted up at the figure by her bedside. "Sera?" Her voice rasped from sleep. "What are you doing here so early?"

Seraphine gave a small, lopsided smile as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Couldn't sleep. And... I wanted to see you."

Elira stretched and yawned. "That's new. You usually cherish your extra hour of sleep like a dragon hoards gold."

"I still do," Seraphine said, chuckling. "But... I needed to ask something."

That subtle shift in her voice the slight edge of tension tucked beneath the casual tone made Elira blink fully awake.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up slowly.

Seraphine didn't answer immediately. Instead, she fiddled with the end of her sleeve, then looked up.

Seraphine tucked her legs beneath her on the edge of the bed, arms folded loosely across her lap. Her tone was casual, but her gaze sharp, searching betrayed the nonchalance.

"So... any luck?" she asked, almost too casually.

Elira blinked. "Luck with what?"

Seraphine arched a brow. "Don't play coy with me. You know what I mean."

Elira exhaled slowly, rubbing her hand across her sleep-mussed curls. "If you're asking if I've met my mate..." She gave a short laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No. No sparks. No butterflies. Just more awkward stares and forced greetings."

Seraphine didn't answer immediately. Her fingers began tugging at the hem of her sleeve again.

Elira leaned back against the headboard, watching her closely. "You were hoping I had, weren't you?"

"I just thought maybe..." Seraphine hesitated. "With everything changing, maybe something would've clicked."

Elira tilted her head. "Changing?"

Seraphine bit her lip, then blew out a sigh. "The Council's messengers arrived last night. I heard my uncle talking about it before sunrise." She paused, lowering her voice like it was a secret wrapped in danger. "Thorne Kaelen Drayce is coming."

Elira blinked. "The Thorne Kaelen Drayce?"

Seraphine nodded.

Elira sat up straighter, the bedsheets falling from her shoulders.

"Wait, that can't be right," she said, eyes narrowing. "Thorne isn't supposed to return for at least five more years. Everyone knows that."

Seraphine gave her a look-half-concerned, half knowing. "And yet here we are."

Elira's thoughts scrambled. Thorne Kaelen Drayce-eldest son of the revered but feared Alpha Darion Drayce-had been sent away at thirteen. He was the heir, yes, but he had vanished into the Eastern Wastes to 'train' under ancient laws and brutal masters. No one had seen him since. No letters. No visits. No word. Only whispers.

Now, out of nowhere, he was coming back?

Elira pulled her knees up to her chest. "Why would they call him back so soon? The Council must have a reason."

Seraphine hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek before she leaned in a little closer, like the walls might be listening.

"There's a rumor," she whispered. "They say he requested it."

Elira blinked. "He asked to return?"

Another pause.

"They also say..." Seraphine's voice dropped to a near-murmur, "he's nothing like his father. Worse, even. That he's cold. Unyielding. He detests weakness. Doesn't tolerate failure. And..." Her gaze darted to Elira. "He especially doesn't care for omegas."

The words landed like frost.

Elira's fingers instinctively curled into the sheets. "That's just a rumor," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

Seraphine didn't answer immediately. Then: "I hope so."

Seraphine gave a small sigh and stood, brushing invisible lint from her robe. "Oh and before I forget," she said like it was a minor detail, though her eyes sparkled with anticipation, "we're all expected to be at the clearing by dusk."

Elira looked up, still caught in the fog of what Seraphine had just told her. "What for?"

"To welcome him, of course."

"Welcome who?"

Seraphine arched a brow. "Thorne. Kaelen. Drayce. Our soon-to-be Alpha."

Elira's jaw slackened. "You're joking."

"I wish I was." Seraphine's tone was half-serious now, the playful glint fading into something heavier. "Every able-bodied member of the pack is expected to be there. It's a show of unity. Or loyalty. Depends on who you ask."

Elira swallowed. The idea of standing in a crowd under the watchful gaze of a cold, ruthless Alpha one rumored to hate weakness did not sit well with her. "And if we don't go?"

Seraphine gave her a pointed look. "Then I'd suggest packing your things and leaving before sundown. Because if the rumors are true..." She trailed off, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air.

Elira's stomach twisted.

Just as the silence settled, Seraphine clapped her hand to her forehead. "Oh moonstones I almost forgot! My mum's herbal poultice! She'll skin me alive if I don't pick it up before noon."

Elira blinked, still processing everything, but gave a small nod. "You should go before she starts howling louder than the full moon."

Seraphine laughed, already heading toward the door. "You're not wrong. I'll see you at the clearing, yeah?"

Elira offered a soft smile. "Wouldn't miss it."

As soon as the door shut behind her friend, Elira let out a long, tired sigh. The quiet of the room returned, pressing down like the thick weight of fate itself. The name Thorne Kaelen Drayce echoed in her mind like a warning bell.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool stone floor beneath her feet. Her body still ached with the uncertainty of not knowing. No mate. No clarity. And now an Alpha known to scorn the weak was returning years too soon.

She ran her fingers through her tousled hair, muttering under her breath, "Alright, world. Let's get this over with."

With a deep breath, she rose and padded toward the wash basin. Her reflection looked uncertain but there was fire in her eyes.

The sun had fully risen now, casting golden slants of light through the cottage windows. Elira moved with a quiet determination, washing up and slipping into her soft, moss-green tunic and a woven sash around her waist. It was her favorite simple, functional, and just a touch rebellious with its frayed edges.

Her long, dark curls refused to be tamed, so she settled for tying them into a loose braid, letting wisps frame her face. Her boots were worn, but sturdy, and as she tugged them on, she muttered, "If the new Alpha wants perfection, he'll have to look elsewhere."

She descended the stairs, the scent of honey bread and pine drifting from the kitchen.

"Mum?" she called softly.

"In here, sweet girl," came the warm reply.

Her mother, Isolde, stood near the hearth, stirring a pot of simmering herbal broth. Her silvery hair was braided in the back, and her eyes wise, always watching flicked to Elira the moment she entered.

"You're up later than usual."

"I didn't sleep well," Elira admitted, stepping into the kitchen. "Seraphine woke me."

Isolde arched a brow. "Let me guess. She came fishing for mate gossip?"

Elira gave a tired laugh and slumped onto the wooden bench by the window. "And to drop a bomb. She said... Thorne Kaelen Drayce is arriving today. Is that true?"

The stirring spoon paused. For a heartbeat, Isolde didn't respond. Then she sighed, turning toward her daughter.

"Yes, it's true."

Elira blinked. "But he wasn't supposed to return for another five years."

"I know," her mother said quietly. "Something changed. His father sent word two moons ago. They're accelerating the succession."

"Why?" Elira asked, her voice low. "Why now?"

Isolde didn't answer right away. Instead, she crossed the room and cupped Elira's cheek gently. "Some storms arrive before we're ready, love. But that doesn't mean we can't stand through them."

Elira swallowed hard. "Is it true what they say? That he's... cruel? That he despises omegas?"

Her mother's hand stilled. "What people say and what truth is don't always match. But I won't lie to you. He's not known for his softness."

Elira stared at the rising steam from the pot. "Great. Just what I need. A power-hungry Alpha who thinks I'm worthless."

Isolde leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "He doesn't know you. Yet."

Elira didn't feel reassured. But something in her mother's calm steadiness made her spine straighten just a bit.

If this Thorne Drayce thought she'd bow, he was in for a surprise.

Elira lingered in her seat, picking at the edge of the woven table runner. Her thoughts drifted to the night before Liana had seemed a little off. Elira hadn't wanted to push, but something about her sudden absence this morning stirred a quiet unease.

"Mum..." she began, glancing up. "Did Liana stop by? Maybe earlier before I woke up?"

Isolde shook her head gently, turning back to her stirring. "No, darling. Haven't seen her since yesterday."

Elira's brows pinched together. "That's strange. She usually comes by."

"Mmhmm," Isolde hummed knowingly. "She never misses your morning grumbles about chores."

That earned a laugh from Elira.

"I'd say go check on her. Might just be one of her wander-off days, but still..." Isolde turned, her tone softening. "You know how tightly you two are tied. When one thread frays, the other feels it."

Elira stood immediately, brushing crumbs off her tunic. "You're right. I'll go now. Something's... I don't know. It just feels off."

Her mother nodded, reaching out to gently smooth a wrinkle in Elira's sleeve. "Trust your instincts, love. They've never steered you wrong."

Elira kissed her cheek. "I won't be long."

As she stepped out the front door into the morning sun, a subtle tension danced at the edge of her senses, like the world was holding its breath.

She didn't know what she was walking into. But if Liana was in trouble, she'd find her no matter what.

Elira walked along the familiar trail to Liana's cottage, the dirt path still damp from the early morning dew. The chirping birds offered their daily greeting, but Elira barely heard them. Something gnawed quietly at her Liana hadn't been seen or heard from, not since yesterday'.

The cottage sat quietly at the edge of the forest, vines curling around its edges like sleepy arms. She approached the door and knocked gently. Once. Twice. No answer.

"Liana?" she called, pressing her ear to the door.

Still nothing.

Her fingers hesitated at the handle, then turned it slowly. The door creaked open.

The house was... normal. Too normal.

She stepped in.

Everything was in its usual place the basket of dried herbs near the window, the worn rug beneath the small dining table, the lingering smell of rosehip tea in the air. It felt lived in. But the silence hung heavy.

Elira climbed the short staircase toward the bedroom. The door was cracked slightly open.

Peeking in, she saw Liana's mother tucked under the covers, her chest rising and falling steadily in sleep. Her face was calm peaceful, even but unnaturally still, like she'd been asleep far longer than necessary.

Elira stepped closer, cautious but concerned.

"Auntie?" she whispered softly.

No stir.

She frowned, glancing around. No sign of Liana. No hurried notes. No messy packing. Nothing out of place except that thick air of absence.

"Where did you go, Liana?" Elira murmured, backing out of the room quietly.

With a final glance at the sleeping woman, she pulled the door shut and left the cottage.

The walk home felt heavier now. She hugged her arms tightly around her chest, her brows furrowed.

Something was wrong. She could feel it

Elira pushed open the front door of her house and stepped inside, the familiar scent of thyme and lavender greeting her like a warm hug. Her mother was by the hearth, stirring a pot of stew, humming softly to herself.

"You're back quickly," her mum said, without turning. "Did you see Liana?"

Elira hesitated, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "Not exactly. I went to the house. Everything looked... normal, but her mum was still in bed. Like, deeply asleep."

That got her mother's attention.

"She didn't respond?"

Elira shook her head. "No. I knocked. Called. Nothing. She was just... there. Sleeping. Peacefully. Like nothing could wake her."

Her mum let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "She's probably exhausted. You know how hard she works with her hands gathering herbs, drying roots, running errands. That woman barely rests. A deep sleep's nothing to worry about."

Elira bit her lip. "But Liana wasn't there. And she didn't say anything about going anywhere."

Her mother turned and gave her a small smile. "Maybe she went out early to run an errand for her mum. These things happen. You girls worry too much."

"I guess," Elira mumbled, though her gut still twisted.

"And you," her mum added, pointing the wooden spoon at her, "need to stop letting your imagination run wild. A long nap and an empty house don't spell disaster. Sometimes, it's just life being... life."

Elira gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah. You're probably right."

But something inside her whispered: Or maybe you're not.