Love First, My Little Wolf

The Silverpine pack was a buzz with Herta’s coming of age in two days. It was well known by the pack that some of the Alpha heirs from neighbouring packs that were still unmated would be attending her coming of age to see if she was her mate and future Luna. Herta was quiet for an Alpha female and kept to herself, having considered the nerd of Silverpine High School, as she had no friends.

Herta didn’t seem to care; it gave her time to write and avoid drama. She made her way into the rose garden to stay out of the way. The last thing she needed was to be cornered by one of her Aunts or Uncles regarding something that just had to be her fault, even while she would have been at school at the time that it had happened.

She wasn’t always this way, but her friend Sally changed packs when her mother found her second chance mate. And after being told that she wasn’t good enough, not by her parents or brother, she stopped trying to be enough. Although she was still at the top of all her classes, she had just withdrawn from most aspects of pack life.

As she sat in the rose garden, her pen hovering above the page, waiting for the words to follow. She began to hear cars pulling up into the driveway, making her eyes roll. ‘Well, there goes any chance for peace. Better off going to my room instead.’ Herta thought, grabbed her things, and slipped inside to head upstairs.

She slipped through the side door, avoiding the main entrance where all the commotion seemed to be centred. The familiar scent of pine-scented cleaning products mingled with the faint traces of strangers—other wolves, other packs. Herta wrinkled her nose. Two days. She just needed to survive two more days of this circus, and then perhaps they'd all leave her alone again.

The back staircase was mercifully empty. Her footsteps echoed against the polished wood as she climbed, notebook clutched tightly to her chest like armour. Third floor, second door on the right, her sanctuary. Herta reached for the handle, then froze as voices drifted from her parents' suite at the end of the hall.

"—Braveclaw heir is particularly promising," her father's deep voice rumbled. "Strong alliance potential there."

"Matthieu, she's barely eighteen," her mother countered softly. "Perhaps we shouldn't push too…"

"It's tradition, Endellion. My grandfather found his mate at his coming of age, as did my father. The Silver line has always…"

Herta didn't wait to hear more. She slipped into her room and closed the door with barely a click, leaning back against it. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Not this again. Every conversation lately seemed to circle back to the same topic—her future, her duties, her inevitable role as someone's Luna.

Her room remained untouched, thank the Moon Goddess. The neat stack of books on her desk, the carefully made bed with its forest-green comforter, the small collection of wolf figurines she'd had since childhood. No one had invaded this space to "prepare" her yet.

She crossed to the window seat, settling into the familiar cushions. From here, she could see the cars still arriving—sleek black SUVs and luxury sedans, each bearing different pack insignias. One particularly ostentatious vehicle caught her eye—midnight blue with silver trim, the Braveclaw emblem gleaming on its side.

Herta's stomach tightened. So that was them. The "particularly promising" heirs her father mentioned.

She opened her notebook again, but the words still wouldn't come. Instead, she found herself sketching the outline of a wolf, running free through trees that looked nothing like the manicured grounds of Silverpine.

"Two more days," she whispered to herself, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. "Just get through two more days."

A sharp knock at her door made her jolt upright, her pencil leaving an ugly streak across the page.

"Herta Jade," came her Aunt Clarissa's crisp voice. "Your presence is required downstairs. Immediately."

‘Of Course it is, because having a few minutes to oneself would be wrong.’ Herta thought to herself. “I’ll be right down. I was just studying for an assignment for my advanced English class. Mr. Wolf has given us high requirements for this one.”

“Like I care what Mr. Wolf wants, you’ll get your disrespectful *ss downstairs and fulfil your duty now, child. Duty is way more important than whatever you deem important. Don’t make me come in here, you little brat.” Aunt Clarissa said with a shriek.

“I’ll be down in ten, I need to change, then I wouldn’t want anyone to see me covered in dirt from training last period,” Herta said, trying to appease her Aunt’s need for everything to be perfect.

"I don't care if you're covered in mud from head to toe. Your father is waiting, and so are our guests." Aunt Clarissa's voice held that familiar edge that always made Herta's skin crawl. "Five minutes. Not a second more."

Footsteps retreated down the hallway, each click of her aunt's heels like a countdown timer. Herta exhaled slowly, pressing her palm against her notebook until the spiral binding left red marks on her skin. The pressure helped ground her somehow.

She moved to her closet, surveying the options with resignation. Everything felt like a costume, dresses and blouses selected not by her but by her mother and aunt, all designed to showcase her as a proper Alpha female. Nothing that actually felt like her.

Herta pulled out a dark green dress that at least complemented her eyes. It was modest enough to avoid criticism but fitted enough to prevent accusations of hiding herself. A careful balance she'd learned to navigate through years of corrections and disapproving glances.

As she changed, her gaze caught on the small scar along her forearm, a reminder of the last time she'd truly felt like herself, climbing trees with Matthias before he'd grown too important for such childish activities. Before she'd been told repeatedly that future Lunas don't scale pine trees or run wild through the forest.

The dress settled around her like a second skin, constrictive despite its perfect tailoring. Herta quickly ran a brush through her dark hair, applied the barest hint of lip gloss, and slipped on the silver wolf pendant that marked her as part of the Alpha line. The weight of it felt heavier today.

Four minutes and thirty seconds. She was nothing if not precise.

Herta took one last look at her sanctuary before stepping into the hallway. The voices from downstairs had grown louder—masculine laughter, the clink of glasses, her father's commanding tone rising above it all. She could pick out Matthias's voice too, smooth and confident as he undoubtedly charmed everyone in the room.

Her fingers trailed along the bannister as she descended, each step measured and careful. Head up, shoulders back, smile pleasant but not too eager. The litany of instructions played in her mind, ingrained after years of repetition.

The grand foyer came into