Morning light crept through the small wooden window of Calla's cottage, but it brought no peace. She hadn't slept.
The moment her head hit the pillow, the whispers had returned—soft, echoing voices that didn't belong to anyone in this world. She could barely understand them, but she felt them. Like wind tugging on her soul.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the silver ring on her finger. It looked the same—smooth, glowing faintly in the light—but it didn't feel the same.
Mika had barely spoken to her since last night, only watching her with worried eyes. And Calla couldn't blame her. She was scared too.
The glowing eyes. The silver light. The voice of her wolf growing louder.
Something inside her was no longer sleeping.
---
"You're becoming what you were meant to be."
But what is that?
"They didn't tell you. They wanted you small. But the blood in your veins was never weak."
---
Calla's hands trembled as she stood and went outside. The village was already awake, pack members moving about with baskets of food, children chasing each other near the well, elders talking quietly under the trees.
Everything seemed normal.
But she knew better.
Darien knew something had changed.
And now… so did the others.
---
Later that morning, she walked to the healer's hut to pick up more herbs. Madame Elra greeted her with a quiet nod, but the woman's eyes scanned her too long, as if searching for something behind her skin.
"You're pale," Elra said. "Did you feel it last night?"
Calla hesitated. "Feel what?"
"The shift. The energy in the ground. Something ancient woke."
Calla's throat tightened. "I didn't feel anything."
Elra narrowed her eyes. "Mm. Be careful, child. Not everything that wakes should be known."
---
Back in the Alpha's mansion, Darien stood in front of the large wall map of his territory. The map wasn't just ink and paper—it held markings, thin silver threads connected to small crystals that glowed when energy changed within his pack. It was a gift passed down from the old Alphas.
He'd watched it all night.
And sometime near midnight, one of the crystals had flared white. The one closest to the omega cottages.
But no new bond had triggered. No mating call. Just pure power.
Unusual. Uncontrolled.
Dangerous.
---
"She hides something. Something deep."
She doesn't even know what it is.
"That's what makes her dangerous. Or needed."
Darien turned away from the map, jaw tight.
He needed answers.
---
The elders met him at the central hall by late afternoon. Five of them. Gray-haired, wise, sharp-eyed. They'd ruled long before Darien was born. Now they advised.
"You felt it," one said.
Darien nodded. "Yes."
"Do you know who it came from?"
He looked them in the eye. "I think so. But I'm not sure."
Another elder frowned. "A wolf with sealed power is not common."
"And never among omegas," added another.
"She is not an ordinary omega," Darien said. "She may not even know what she is."
The room went quiet.
Finally, the head elder spoke. "Then she must be watched."
---
That night, Calla sat in her room, staring out the window.
She didn't know what was happening to her. Her wolf was louder. Her dreams were strange—visions of moonlight over ruins, voices calling her by a name she didn't recognize.
And when she'd reached into the water bucket earlier, it had rippled without touch.
Magic?
Power?
She wasn't sure.
But one thing was clear.
She couldn't stay hidden forever.
Something inside her wanted to rise.
And it wouldn't wait much longer.