Celine stood at the training grounds, rolling her shoulders, trying to shake off the nerves that had been crawling under her skin since sunrise. She should be terrified.
Yesterday, she had been nothing. A servant, a stray, a problem to be ignored. Now, her name was spoken alongside Sasha’s, alongside the daughters of powerful Alphas, alongside women who had been born to rule.
And yet…
Excitement coiled low in her stomach.
She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to take this.
She could feel Lyra stirring in the back of her mind, a steady presence, warm and solid.
When will I shift? Celine asked, trying not to let the frustration seep into the bond.
A sigh, deep and resigned. You know it’s not that simple.
It is for everyone else.
If I could force it, I would have done it years ago, Lyra murmured. But something has always been in the way.
A block. Celine had always felt it—a wall between her and what she should have been. Other wolves had their first shifts by fourteen. By eighteen, they were fully in control. But Celine had turned eighteen, had waited under the full moon, had reached and reached and reached, to no avail. Her parents had stopped waiting.
Lilith had laughed and told her it was the final proof that she was less.
And Luke…
Luke had found her that night, sitting on the steps of the packhouse, staring at her own hands like she might find the answer written into her skin. She had been humiliated. Ready to snap at him if he dared to pity her.
But he had only sat beside her, quietly, before saying, “Happy birthday, Celine.”
She hadn’t responded.
He had nudged her knee with his. “I’ll tell you again next year.”
And he had. Even when their worlds had grown colder, sharper, separate—Luke had always remembered.
Celine shoved the thought away, pushing it into the same locked box where she kept all the other things she refused to feel.
“Are you going to stand here brooding all day,” a voice chirped, “or are you going to start acting like a future Luna?”
Celine turned, finding Lucy grinning at her, arms crossed over her chest.
“You put me in this mess,” Celine muttered. “Now I have to deal with it.”
Lucy’s smile didn’t waver. “And you will.” She took a step closer, voice softer. “You deserve this, Celine.”
Celine swallowed hard.
She wasn’t sure if she believed it.
But maybe—for her old self, for the girl who had never been given the chance—she could try.