Chapter 3 Lyra's Invisibility Among Her Pack

You would think that being raised among wolves would make one feel like it belonged to something, like it was part of a pack or a family, an entity. But to me, it only worsened the biting loneliness of invisibility.

Every day with the Nightshade Pack was, in a sense, a silent war, where I would try with all my might to be seen, heard, and finally to matter. Yet I lost every day.

I woke before the sun, as always. That little shack I called home was nearly rotten wood and cold drafts. Most Omegas were assigned at least a cabin to share on the lands of the Pack, but for I, having no family nor title, I was afforded a crusty hut situated at the very border of the woods, closer to the shadows than to the safety of the territory.

I found my way out of bed, feet kissing the cold floorboards, pulling the little cloak around me. It had once belonged to my mother, or at least so I told myself. I barely remembered her. A laugh, a lullaby, the feeling of stormy nights when her arms held me close, that was all I had left. Along with a birthright that nobody cared to honor.

I passed through the woods till I found the kitchens, where the smell of roasting meat and aromatic herbs filled the air. The other Omegas were busy there, their hands free in flour, feet ticking like clockwork. But no one looked or gave a small nod to me. I was invisible.

I slipped this place just beside the hearth and began kneading the dough. The repetitive motions kept the other thoughts at bay momentarily while I still had the rest of the thoughts about how all had appeared to shun me as if I were carrying some silent curse. I had lost count of the times I had overheard the whisperings.

"She's the cursed one."

"No wolf. No worth."

"Her blood's strange. Royal, they say. But who cares if her wolf won't even speak?"

Before, those words used to scar the very edges of my heart. Now, they just echoed faintly in the back of my mind, an annoying buzz that I could never swat away.

As the sun climbed higher, into the kitchen walked Lady Mariana, Beta's mate. She was tall, she was graceful, and so was her mouth sharp like her heels.

"Where's the tea?" she barked.

Before any could stir, I sprang up, a steaming cup in my hand. Bowing my head, I grasped the cup with both hands.

Lady Mariana grabbed the cup without acknowledging my presence. "Finally, you're good for something, Lyra."

Her voice was oozing with contempt. I said nothing. I never did.

Invisibility had taught me silence. Silence kept me safe.

Once my duties were over, I sneaked away from the Packhouse. My feet carried me to the edge of the territory, where trees stood alone and swayed like sentinels, and birds sang melodies that I had never been able to repeat. This was my refuge. There, the air didn't weigh down on me. There, I could breathe.

I took a seat by that tree I loved: an old pine with roots like gnarled fingers. I leaned back, closed my eyes, hearing the faint rustling of leaves, and hoping, as I always did, for that faint whisper from Aira.

But she wasn't saying anything.

"You're still not ready," I whispered aloud, unsure if I was addressing her or myself.

Sometimes, I thought that I could feel her, like a ghost of a thought pressing against the backside of my mind. Other times, it felt as though she had never really been there.

A muffled growl tore through the woods, bringing me back from my drifting thoughts. I sprang up. Emerging from the underbrush were three boys-young warriors-in-training-I knew them. They always wanted to make fun of me.

"Didn't your shift end an hour ago, Omega?" Colin sneered.

"I-"

"She's probably hoping her invisible wolf will finally speak," Dax chuckled.

"Or maybe she's just hiding from kitchen duty again," Ren added.

They circled me like vultures. I held my position, heart pounding in my chest.

"I'm not hiding," I said softly. "I finished my chores."

Colin stepped forward. His smile was cruel. "Then maybe you're out here looking for a mate. Sorry, Lyra, we don't mate with ghosts."

My fists clenched. I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream at them to let them know I was not a ghost-I was flesh and fury. But I didn't.

Because that would have meant admitting I cared.

"Leave her alone."

Sharp and out of nowhere, the voice hit my ears. A girl stepped into the clearing-Rina, another Omega, one who had friends enough not to be picked on like me.

The boys mumbled to each other and slipped away, their laughter fading into the distance.

Rina had looked over at me. "Don't be alone here. Not with them sniffing around."

"I'm accustomed to it," I murmured.

"Doesn't mean you should be."

I stayed and watched her walk away, feeling grateful but aching inside. She just didn't get it. No one did.

Back at the Packhouse later that night, the dining hall was alive with activity. Long tables were occupied by warriors, elders, and families. Laughter bounced off the high wooden beams. Roasted meat and root vegetables were being passed around-all except for me.

I stayed at the edge of the room, waiting for the last plate, so I could bear to eat from the kitchen.

That was when I saw him.

Alpha Caden Kael.

He stood at the far end of the hall surrounded by his elite. Taller than I anticipated and broader too. His presence attracted notice like gravity, and the room seemed to bend around him.

He did not look at me. Of course he did not. Why should he?

He had the royalty of Moonblade. I was nonexistent.

Except for just an instant, his head turned; piercing storm-gray eyes met mine from across the hall.

And something deep within me awakened.

Aira?

Yet almost as fast as it came, it was gone.

He turned away, resuming his conversation.

And I painfully recalled who I was.

Just Lyra.

Invisible girl with a silent wolf and broken past.

Nothing more.

Not yet.