THE SHADOW OF AN ABSENT WOLF

NARRADOR

The silence of Maeve's bedroom was her only ally. While most girls her age in the Ancestral Claw Pack were out there, feeling the rush of the run or the connection with the wild, she stayed behind, buried in stacks of history and advanced biology textbooks.

POV: MAEVE VESPER

My name is Maeve Melki Vesper. I'm twenty-one years old, and technically, I'm a freak of nature.

"Maeve? Sweetheart, dinner's ready," my mother Amaris called from downstairs.

I could feel the vibration of her wolf, Hera, even through the walls.

It was a comforting warmth, but also a constant reminder of what I didn't have. I closed my notebook and let out a breath. Caught my reflection in the mirror for a second: red hair inherited from my mother, brown eyes that looked far too ordinary for someone born into a Beta bloodline.

My father, Magnus, is a formidable wolf called Rocha.

And me? I'm just Maeve. The "Human."

I headed downstairs and found my parents in the kitchen. The mood was the same as always: loving, but laced with a sadness they tried to hide.

"How were your studies today?" my father asked, forcing a smile as he carved the meat.

"Productive. I finished the biochemistry module," I said, sitting down. "It's all I've got, since I can't hunt with the pack."

The silence that followed pressed down on us. At eighteen, everyone had expected my Awakening. The first transformation is a sacred rite of passage. But the pain never came. My bones never broke and reformed. The voice in my mind stayed mute. Three years passed, and I remained trapped in this human skin.

POV: MAGNUS VESPER

It hurts to see my daughter like this. I am the wolf Rocha, one of the most respected Betas in the Ancestral Claw Pack, and my only heir is treated like a pariah out there. I can smell her sadness — a vanilla scent that turns bitter every time the pack's howl echoes through the mountains.

We consulted elders, healers, even human doctors. "Recessive gene," some said. "A curse," others whispered. I don't care what she is, but it kills me to know that when Amaris and I are gone, she won't have the pack's protection. Without a wolf, she's the weakest link. And wolves have no mercy for weakness.

"Magnus," Amaris touched my arm under the table, sensing my agitation. "Alpha Ragnar returns from the border tomorrow. There'll be a ceremony, and our family's been invited."

Maeve froze, her fork suspended in midair.

"I'm not going," she said. Flat. Final.

POV: MAEVE VESPER

Hearing Ragnar Varik's name always sent a chill down my spine. I'd never seen him in person.

Our house sits on the outskirts of the pack settlement, almost at the edge of the forest, and I avoid social events like they're the plague. But his reputation precedes him.

They say the Alpha is a thirty-two-year-old man with an aura so crushing that even the oldest wolves bow their heads. They say he's relentless, cold, and that his black wolf is twice the size of any ordinary shifter. He is raw power. And me? I'm nothing.

"You need to get out more, Maeve," my mother pressed. "Oh, and Stellan asked about you today."

Stellan. The only one who stayed.

When I was a teenager, I was popular. I had friends, went to parties, and Elowen was my soul sister. But the day I turned eighteen and didn't shift, her mask fell off. The bullying started with little jabs and ended with her leading the group that called me "the Betas' pet."

The doorbell rang, shattering my thoughts. I knew who it was by the scent of pine and wet earth that invaded the house before the door even opened.

"Speak of the devil," I joked, watching Stellan stride into the kitchen.

Stellan is twenty-five, with intense green eyes and a grin that always tried to pull me back to my feet. His wolf, Khan, was strong and loyal.

"Ready for our evening walk, Red?" he asked, ignoring the tense atmosphere.

"Stellan, I already told you I don't want to go to the main square."

"We're not going to the square. We're going to the lake. Nobody's going to bother you there. I promise."

My parents nodded, practically begging me with their eyes to go. I grabbed my jacket. Stellan had always been protective — sometimes too much. I knew what he felt; I could sense Khan's affection pulsing through him, the longing for me to be his mate. But how could I be? Without a wolf, I'd never feel the soul bond. If I accepted Stellan and then he found his true mate, what would become of me? I wouldn't just be a wolfless girl; I'd be a discarded woman. And I had too much pride for that.

POV: STELLAN MAYSON

We walked in silence through the forest. I kept my senses on high alert. Maeve was vulnerable out here, without the accelerated healing or the reflexes of a shifter. But to me, she was perfect. She was brilliant, quick-witted, and carried an inner strength that none of those bullying idiots would ever possess.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" she asked suddenly.

"The Alpha?" I glanced at her. "Yeah. Ragnar is strict. But he's fair, Maeve. If he could see how brilliant you are—"

"He'd see a human who consumes the pack's resources without giving anything back, Stellan. Don't be naive. In the Ancestral Claw Pack, you either hunt or you're hunted."

I wanted to hold her, tell her I'd protect her from Ragnar, from Elowen, from everyone. But Maeve hated being shielded. What she wanted was to belong.

A powerful howl ripped through the night. Not an ordinary howl — a command. The frequency was so low and potent that I felt my bones vibrate. Khan shrank inside me in deference.

"He's here," I whispered.

Maeve stopped walking, her gaze fixed on the Alpha's mansion glowing in the distance atop the hill.

"Ragnar Varik," she murmured his name like it was a curse.

I didn't have the heart to tell her, but the council of elders had been pressuring the Alpha to "clean up" the pack by expelling anyone who didn't contribute. And Maeve's name was first on Elowen's list — the same Elowen who now served as one of the council's informants.

I watched Maeve, moonlight shimmering against her red hair. She was the smartest person I'd ever known, but in this world of fangs and claws, intelligence didn't prevent an exile.

"Let's head back, Maeve," I said, a bad feeling crawling under my skin. "The wind's shifting."

What I didn't confess was that the scent carried on the wind wasn't just the forest. It was the scent of an apex predator. And for the first time in years, I sensed that Maeve's fate was about to collide with something far bigger than anything she could study in her books.

POV: MAEVE VESPER

On the way back, I felt a pair of eyes on us. Not Elowen's spiteful stare or the neighbors' pity. Something heavy, as if the forest itself was weighing me down. I turned toward the shadows of the ancient trees. For a split second, I saw two golden orbs glowing in the darkness. A wolf? No — far too large to be an ordinary member of our pack.

Before I could identify it, the vision vanished.

"What is it?" Stellan asked, his hand already on the knife at his belt.

"Nothing. Just... the feeling of being watched."

NARRADOR

Maeve had no idea that atop that hill, the man she feared most had just set foot in his territory. Her "abnormal" existence was already on Ragnar Varik's radar.

Her life as a recluse was running out of days. She didn't have a wolf to defend herself, so she'd have to rely on the only weapon she possessed: her brain. Because in the Ancestral Claw Pack, survival belongs to the strong.

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