Prologue: Chaos and Caramel Puffs
Alina’s POV
The Arclight Pack House was pure chaos—but the kind that made me smile.
Boots echoed up and down the stairs. Zippers zipped. Distant voices called out from somewhere above, talking about missing socks or someone stealing a vest. The smell of tomato soup, grilled cheese, and floor polish mingled in the air like a potion of home, comfort, and nerves.
Tomorrow, we would be in Silvermoor. The day after tomorrow, the Twin Kings would be crowned. And today… I still hadn’t packed my snacks.
Luca flopped onto my bedroom rug, stretching like a lazy cat while he stuffed sour ropes into a pouch that sparkled with glitter. “We’re so behind schedule.”
“I already packed my real stuff,” I said, crouched beside him. “Clothes, chargers, toothbrush, my iPad, my books—”
“You packed books?” He blinked. “Nini, it’s not a test.”
“They’re about the werewolf monarchy,” I said, rolling my eyes. “History of the Bloodline Throne, Silvermoor’s foundation myths, and a modern interpretation of ruling structure based on ancient alpha law.”
Luca stared at me. “You’re nine.”
“I’m advanced. Plus, I love to read, it’s my favorite thing next to my princess movies.” I shrugged and stuck my tongue out at him.
He didn’t argue. He just handed me the hidden tin from behind my dresser, and I added honey drops, jerky, and the caramel puffs Auntie bought us last week from the pack market. She said they were “for the journey,” but we both knew what she meant.
“Okay,” I whispered, clicking the pouch shut. “That covers sugar, salt, and bribes.”
“Good,” he said. “We’re ready for war.”
“Nini! Luca! Don’t make me come up there!” I flinched. Auntie’s voice carried from downstairs, sweet and sharp all at once. “Soup’s on. And if you skip another lunch, I’m feeding it to you in your sleep.”
“She’s terrifying,” Luca whispered.
“She’s precious,” I whispered back, already smiling.
The kitchen was bathed in golden afternoon light as we entered. Auntie stood at the counter, ladling soup into bowls with her favorite apron tied snugly around her waist. Her gray curls were pinned back beneath a floral scarf, and she hummed softly to herself as she worked—something old and calming.
“There you are,” she said, catching me with a kiss on the cheek. “Grilled cheese for the troublemakers.”
“I’m not a troublemaker,” I said sweetly, sliding onto the stool.
“You’re an Arclight,” she replied. “Same thing.”
My mom glanced over from the stove and smirked. Her dark braid was as neat as her posture, and her eyes gleamed with that cool kind of love that saw everything—even the hidden snack pouch poking out of my backpack.
“You snuck in jerky, didn’t you?”
“I packed history books,” I countered. “That balances out.”
She laughed and passed me my plate. “You’ll cause a riot in Silvermoor if anyone figures out you’re smarter than most of the Elders.”
My dad walked in just in time to steal a triangle off my plate. “That’s my girl.”
Cassian Arclight. Alpha of our pack. Tall, broad, and full of mischief. His beard was turning silver, and his hands were always warm. When he looked at me, the world felt steady.
“How many snacks did you manage this time?” he asked.
“She made a spreadsheet,” Luca said.
“Of course she did,” Dad said, kissing the top of my head. “That’s my Nini.”
My twin brothers—Rian and Ronan—burst into the kitchen two seconds later, shoving each other as usual.
“You stole my cufflinks!”
“You left them in my bathroom!”
“Mom!”
“SIT,” my mother said without raising her voice.
They sat.
The Beta family arrived while we were still chewing.
Beta Marcus, tall and quiet, with strong hands and tired eyes. His eldest, Elias, was seventeen, brooding, and had probably never smiled once in his life. He nodded to me, which was about as expressive as he ever got.
Then there was Luca’s mom—her arms full of coats, kisses, and cinnamon breath. She swept in and hugged him from behind, then handed Auntie a second scarf “just in case.”
Our families were bonded by blood, loyalty, and love. Luca and I had grown up like siblings, just without the arguing part. He understood my jokes. I kept him alive. It worked.
Back upstairs, I checked my bag one last time. iPad: charged. Books: packed. Dress: protected beneath three layers of tissue paper. Emergency glitter snack pouch: hidden.
I smoothed my yellow capri outfit and dusted off my pink sandals. My black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, but I knew Auntie wouldn’t let me leave without “fixing it properly.”
She came in a moment later, smiling gently as she took out my elastic and parted my hair with practiced hands.
“Turn around, Nini.”
I sat on the edge of my bed, legs swinging as she braided—two tight, even French braids starting at my crown and trailing down past my shoulders. Her fingers were quick and sure, and she hummed softly as she worked.
“There,” she said, tying off the ends with yellow ribbons. “Perfect.”
“Thanks, Auntie,” I said, leaning into her touch as she smoothed the braids down.
“Moonflower,” she whispered, “even the smallest stars change the sky.” I didn’t know what she meant. But I liked how it sounded.
We left at sundown. The pack’s convoy rumbled over gravel and stone, headlights flickering like little stars, windows glowing from within. My brothers were already asleep, their limbs tangled and their snoring audible. My parents murmured up front. Luca tapped quietly on his iPad, chewing on a sour rope.
Auntie sat between us with her knitting in her lap, humming under her breath. I curled against the cool window and watched the trees pass.
Silvermoor was waiting. The kings were waiting. And even though I didn’t know why, I felt like something deep inside me was waiting too. Start writing here…
