CHAPTER 2 : PACKLESS

A wolf without a pack—what’s left after that? Nothing good. Death is something else. You die, people mourn, they remember you. There’s honor in it, at least. But to strip a wolf from their pack? That’s worse than dying. It’s like you’re erased. Nobody sees you. Nobody remembers. Seraphine just stood there, frozen on that stupid platform, the Registry Keeper’s words still ringing out across Moonstone Square. “There is no record of Seraphine Veyra ever being born.” After that, the silence stretched long enough to choke her. Hundreds of wolves—some looked confused, others were just scared. Plenty looked at her like she was filthy. Like she was a monster. Her heart banged in her ears. “No...” It slipped out, small and desperate. “No, that’s impossible.” She barely recognized her own voice. She tried to catch the Registry Keeper’s eyes. “Check again.” He swallowed. He looked like a ghost—almost sick. “I already did.” “Then check again!” Her voice cracked. People flinched like she’d struck them. They started whispering. Gareth opened that damn book again, hands shaking so much he nearly dumped it on the ground. He flipped through the same pages, over and over. It never changed. Nothing. Not so much as a faint smudge with her name. No birth certificate. No record of anything. According to this book, she’d never existed. It made her stomach twist. This couldn’t be happening. She remembered everything. Her room. School. Her family... So how could they just erase it? The Blood Moon overhead burned redder, covering everyone in its bloody glow. Elder Rowan stepped forward, his face set and hard. “Until this matter is investigated, the ceremony must continue.” The moment he said it, the crowd exploded into whispers and hisses. “Investigated?” “She’s cursed!” “Look at the Sacred Stone!” “The Moon Goddess rejected her!” It felt like every murmur was a knife. Abomination. Fraud. Monster. Even the wolves she’d known forever—the ones who used to smile in the bakery, who’d played tag with her as kids—now they recoiled as if she was poison. She found her dad in the crowd. Alpha Magnus, standing beside the Council, all icy and silent. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat. That’s all she needed. Just a word, a look, anything. He was her father. He had to know. But when her eyes begged for help, he looked away. The little hope she’d been clutching just died. That hurt more than all the accusations together. For years she’d wondered why her father held her at a distance. Tonight, she got her answer. Maybe he’d always known. “Alpha Magnus.” Elder Rowan’s voice was loud and sharp. Everything died down again. Now the whole Square focused on her father. The decision was his. Seraphine barely breathed. Just look at me. Just say something. Alpha Magnus stepped up. His face was stone. “Until this anomaly is explained…” The pause was long and cruel. “…Seraphine Veyra is hereby stripped of all pack privileges and protections.” That wall of words hit harder than a punch. The crowd gasped, and suddenly the wolves near her stepped away, as if now she was radioactive. Seraphine stared up at her father, heart cracked and bleeding. “Father—“ He cut her off. “Do not address me during Council proceedings.” He said it like she was a stranger. The room buzzed with whispers. And she realized—he was “Alpha” Magnus to the council, but she called him "Father." He used to be her protector. Now, just another accuser. Elder Rowan didn’t hesitate. “The Council agrees.” Every single Elder nodded, making it official. Final. A wolf without a pack. Packless. The worst thing that could happen. The Sacred Stone beneath her feet felt like ice now. The world tipped sideways, her lungs fighting for air. Someone grabbed her arm. For a second she thought someone cared, but a guard just led her away from the platform—not rough, not gentle. Like she was just something in the way. That stung. Badly. As she stepped down, wolves moved aside, drawing back as if she might bite. They kept their distance, not wanting to touch her or even stand near her. As if she’d vanished already. She was alone. Truly, painfully alone. — The ceremony went on without her, like she was already a ghost. The happy voices just made everything worse. Somewhere in the noise, someone called her name. “Seraphine.” She turned. Mara. For a split second, relief made her chest lighter. Maybe not everyone had forgotten her. “Mara.” Seraphine forced a smile. Mara didn’t come close—she just hovered, a few steps too far away. “You believe me, right?” Mara looked at the ground. The silence twisted in Seraphine’s stomach. “Mara?” A beat. “I don’t know.” That answer hurt more than the whispers. “I’ve known you my entire life.” Mara’s voice was soft. “Have you?” What did that even mean? Seraphine reached for her, but Mara just shook her head, backing away, eyes full of fear – not sympathy or anything tender. Fear. Moments later, Mara disappeared in the crowd. And the emptiness settled in again, heavy and suffocating. — The longer the ceremony went, the stranger things got. People just... stopped seeing her. Not on purpose. When she tried to catch someone’s eye, they looked away so quick it was like their brains blanked her out. Shopkeepers, warriors, little kids. She stared and stared, and it was the same every time—one glance, then nothing. It all felt off, like an invisible hand was blocking her out of reality. The thought made her cold. Then she saw him. Kaelen Dravenhart. The future Alpha, the one everyone talked about. He stood by the Sacred Stone, arms behind his back, staring at her. He didn’t look away. For a moment, that cut through everything. No fake politeness, no pretending she was invisible. Kaelen’s eyes stayed on her, clear and cold as winter. Something flickered there—like he remembered her, or maybe wasn’t sure. Concern, curiosity, something she couldn’t name. Then his face wiped clean. He looked away, just like everyone else. Why did she hope for anything different? — Hours crawled by before everything ended. The crowd wandered home; life went on. But not for her. She walked by herself under the Blood Moon, aching and raw. By the time she reached her family’s house—even that didn’t feel right. The place was enormous and frozen, like she just didn’t belong. No welcome, no servant, no hello. They didn’t see her. She climbed the stairs in silence, but something steered her toward the family gallery. The walls were lined with portraits: ancestors, parents, moments captured forever. Proof the Veyras existed. Proof she was one of them. Seraphine moved to the biggest painting—the Veyra Family Portrait. She remembered the day they had it done; she’d moaned about sitting still, her mother made jokes, everything was normal. Or so she thought. Now, her heart stopped. The painting was all wrong. Her father stood in the center, mother beside him, siblings clustered around. There was an empty space. A gap where she should’ve been, but no sign she’d ever been there. She got closer, squinting at the paint. No scratch marks, nothing covered up. The whole thing looked untouched. Like she’d never been part of it at all. She hurried to the other portraits. Same story. Birthdays. Celebrations. School events. It didn’t matter—she was missing from every single one. Her memories screamed that she’d been there, but reality told her otherwise. A chill swept through the gallery. The candles sputtered, shadows stretched over the walls. And then, barely more than a breath, someone whispered in her ear: “You are disappearing.” She spun around. Nobody behind her. Completely alone. But the whisper—she knew it was real. She stared again at that empty space where she should have been. And the question she dared not say out loud wormed through her mind: What if the Registry Keeper wasn’t wrong? What if she’d never existed? And if that was true... then what was she?