The next few days had been peaceful, with no one banging on her door for sleeping in, no chores, no beatings, and no punishments.
It felt too good to be true, and Layla had been on edge the entire time — waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Until…
One afternoon, a knock sounded on her door.
"Who's there?" she responded, confused because lunch had already passed, and aside from breakfast and dinner, that was usually the only time anyone knocked.
"Ryan. From the Alpha," a calm voice replied from the other side.
Ryan? Who is that? she thought, her brows furrowing.
She walked slowly to the door, heart thudding. Her fingers trembled slightly as they wrapped around the handle, but she forced herself to breathe before pulling it open.
Standing before her was a tall man, lean and sharp-featured, dressed in the simple black attire of the Alpha's personal guards. His face was unreadable, hostility, no warmth. Just purpose.
"Yes?" she asked, wary.
"The Alpha requests your presence."
Her heart skipped. "Did I... do something wrong?"
His gaze flicked to her face and away again. "No. He just wants to speak with you."
That didn't help her nerves. But she nodded. "I'll be out in a second."
He nodded once, stepping aside but remaining near the doorway.
As she changed into something more presentable, unsure why that even mattered, her thoughts spiraled.
The Alpha wants to talk? Why?
Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to still them.
She glanced at the mirror. Her face looked tired. Haunted. But stronger, too.
She opened the door fully and stepped out.
"Ready," she said quietly.
Ryan gave another nod and began walking. She followed, unsure what to expect, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
But what was surprising was that the familiar route to the Alpha's office wasn't where Ryan was taking her.
They didn't head upstairs or toward the grand hallway like last time. Instead, they went down the west wing, through a quiet corridor she hadn't walked before. Layla followed cautiously, her eyes flitting to the framed portraits and windows with thick drapes that lined the walls.
Then they exited the pack house entirely.
The sun hit her face as they stepped outside. A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, and the sound of distant chatter and soft grunts reached her ears. She blinked at the sight ahead, an open space that looked very much like a training field. Smooth, compacted soil formed a large arena-like area, bordered by racks of weapons and sparring gear. A few warriors moved around at the far end, but the field itself was mostly empty.
She looked around, confused. "Is there a reason why I'm here?" she asked Ryan, glancing at the surroundings.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stood silently, gaze forward.
Layla barely had time to dwell on the silence when a door opened at the far side of the field, one she hadn't noticed before, attached to a low structure that looked like a storage or equipment building.
From it emerged Cael, the Beta, and beside him, walking quietly, was the Alpha.
They were both dressed in dark training gear, sleeveless and practical, their expressions unreadable.
Her heart raced.
What did they want from her here?
They moved closer to her, and it was almost eerie, the way both of them walked in perfect sync, like shadows of each other. The Alpha led, silent and composed, while Cael followed half a step behind, just enough to show deference but still maintaining a quiet dominance of his own.
The wind rustled the leaves in the distance, but all Layla could hear was the rhythm of their footsteps drawing nearer. She stood frozen, her breath shallow.
The closer they got, the more palpable the intensity became. The Alpha's face was expressionless as always, his dark eyes locked on hers, unreadable yet piercing, like he was peeling back layers she didn't know she had. Cael, in contrast, had a more casual air about him, but it was the kind of casual that put people on edge, like someone who smiled before delivering a blow.
They finally stopped a few feet in front of her.
The Alpha didn't speak.
It was Cael who did.
"We have some questions for you," he said calmly, voice devoid of any hint of accusation.
Questions? What questions again? Layla blinked, heart lurching.
Haven't they asked everything already?
Still, she nodded, wary but cooperative. "Okay," she muttered.
Cael exchanged a glance with the Alpha before continuing.
"We noticed that your wolf doesn't seem to make an appearance… and we were wondering why that is."
Layla's breath caught.
Her heart dropped, it was like being punched in the gut.
They noticed.
Panic bloomed in her chest. If they know… if they find out I'm an anomaly, a disappointment, a mistake....
They'd send her away. Or worse…
She swallowed hard. There was no use lying. Even if she tried, something told her they'd know.
"I—I do not have a wolf," she murmured, barely above a whisper.
Shame clung to every word like a second skin.
"Okay," Cael responded simply, not even flinching at her confession.
Layla froze.
That was it? No pity? No disgust? No dismissive scoff?
Just… okay?
She couldn't stop the shocked, "What?" that escaped her lips.
Realizing her mistake, her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide in horror. She'd just spoken out of turn.
But neither Cael nor the Alpha reacted. They didn't even glance at her.
Instead, Cael continued smoothly, "As long as you're staying in the Crescent Moon Pack, there are some routines and rules you have to follow."
"As long as you're staying in the Crescent Moon Pack, there are some rules you have to follow," Cael said, his voice steady and firm. "You'll be waking up by five every morning. Training starts at five-thirty sharp."
Layla blinked.
Training?
What the hell do I need training for?
She almost asked out loud but bit her tongue.
She wasn't a warrior. She wasn't anything.
And training by five?
She barely had the strength to get out of bed some mornings.
"But… I-I do not have a wolf," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "How will I train?"
Cael didn't even flinch. "You still have a body, don't you?" he asked, tone neither harsh nor soft, just matter-of-fact.
"No one said anything about shifting."
Layla swallowed.
Is he serious?
Train with warriors? Without a wolf? I'll die.
But before she could say more, Cael continued, "Basic defense. Endurance. Reflex. You'll learn to hold your ground, wolf or not."
"Rule number two," Cael said, his eyes steady on her. "As long as you're here, your loyalty belongs to the Crescent Moon Pack."
Layla blinked, startled.
"You owe your life to this pack," he added, tone still even. "We didn't have to take you in. But we did. That means you protect our name, obey our laws, and never raise your hand or voice against anyone in this territory."
She lowered her gaze, the weight of his words settling on her chest.
Loyalty...
The word echoed in her mind like an oath she wasn't sure she was ready to make. But what choice did she have?
"Rule number three," Cael continued, his voice firmer now. "Do not, in any way, ever disrespect your pack members or your Alpha."
Layla stiffened, nodding slowly, her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.
"Respect is non-negotiable here," he added. "They will respect you, too. That's how we function, order, honor, and unity."
It sounded… fair. But coming from where she was from, it almost felt too good to be true.
Still, she nodded again. "Yes… understood."
"Rule number four," Cael said, folding his arms across his chest. "You have no excuses for missing training, unless you're either sick or going through heat."
Layla blinked. "Heat?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it, and Cael's brow twitched in surprise. Even the Alpha's expression shifted slightly, though he said nothing.
"You don't know what heat is?" Cael asked, his tone not mocking, just... genuinely surprised.
Layla shook her head slowly, anxiety bubbling in her chest. "No… I've never....no one ever told me."
Cael shared a glance with the Alpha, then sighed. "We'll... have someone explain that to you later. For now, just know it's a biological thing that affects omegas. When it comes, you'll know."
Layla frowned, both confused and alarmed. Something told her this pack was going to be a lot more than just safe, it was going to challenge everything she thought she knew.
"Rule number five," Cael continued, his voice steady but not unkind. "You must have something you're doing, some kind of work. On Monday, you'll be taken to the sector where jobs are assigned. You'll receive wages."
Layla blinked. "Work?" she echoed quietly, more to herself.
Cael nodded. "Unless you already have a skill that can earn you money."
"Skill?" she repeated. "Money… for myself?"
Her thoughts spun.
Work? I have to work? she wondered. And… I'll get my own money?
She didn't know whether to be terrified or thrilled. In her old pack, omegas didn't earn, didn't even dream of money. The idea of having something that was hers, truly hers, was foreign. Almost dangerous.
Still, a small flame of curiosity lit inside her chest.
Cael's eyes met hers, serious now, all traces of formality melting into something sterner.
"And the last rule…" he said. "Do not betray the Crescent Moon Pack."
The weight of those words settled heavily in the air.
"Whether by word, by action, or by silence, you owe your life to this pack now. We will protect you, but we expect your loyalty in return."
Layla swallowed hard. There was no mistaking the finality in his tone. This wasn't just a warning, it was a vow, and a threat wrapped in one.
She nodded slowly. "I understand."
But deep down, she wondered—
Can I really belong here? Or will I always just be a girl with no wolf, waiting to be discarded again?
Cael turned to her, his tone as calm as ever.
"Time for training."
Layla blinked. "Now?" she blurted, unable to hide the panic in her voice.
Cael gave a light shrug. "You've been eating, resting, and walking around fine for days. It's time."
She stared at him like he'd just told her she had to wrestle a bear.
"I–but I wasn't expecting it now. I didn't even bring—" she paused, realizing she didn't really own anything to bring.
"You won't need anything," Cael cut in, already turning away. "You'll be given what you need when we get there."
Layla glanced at the Alpha, hoping, irrationally, for some form of mercy. But as always, his expression revealed nothing. Just that quiet stillness that made it hard to guess what he was thinking. She sighed inwardly.
Welcome to the Crescent Moon Pack, she thought bitterly. Where you recover from near-death and get tossed straight into training.
The training field was already alive with motion when they arrived. Wolves in human form sparred in pairs, while others ran laps or practiced maneuvers under the command of instructors. Layla swallowed hard. Her palms were already sweating, and she hadn't even been told what to do yet.
Cael led her to the edge of the field where a stern-looking female warrior stood, arms crossed. Her toned frame and calm gaze gave off the aura of someone not to be trifled with.
"This is Arwen," Cael said. "She'll be in charge of your training."
Layla nodded slightly, unsure if she was supposed to say something. Arwen gave her a once-over, eyes lingering on the healing scar down her arm and the fresh bandages still wrapped around her ribs.
"No wolf?" Arwen asked simply.
Layla shook her head.
"No problem," Arwen said. "You have two feet and a brain. That's enough to begin with."
Begin with?! Layla screamed inwardly.
"You'll start with stamina and strength training," Arwen continued. "We don't expect you to fight like a Beta. But you will learn to run, to block, to hit, and to stand your ground when needed."
She handed Layla a bottle of water and pointed to a row of cones.
"Run. Ten laps around the field. We'll talk after."
Layla looked at the massive field, then back at Arwen. "Ten?"
"Yes. Unless you'd prefer fifteen."
"No, no—ten is perfect."
She took off, each step a painful reminder of what her body had gone through. But she kept moving, one foot in front of the other, ignoring the way the other warriors paused to watch. Some snickered, others raised brows, but no one said anything out loud.
She was panting by the fourth lap, staggering by the seventh, and practically crawling through the last one. But she made it.
Arwen didn't clap. She didn't smile. She simply tossed Layla a towel.
"You're slower than the rest. But you finished. That counts."
Layla nodded, barely able to respond. She wanted to fall flat on the ground and disappear.
"Tomorrow, we start hand-to-hand combat basics," Arwen added. "Rest. You'll need it."
Layla dragged herself back to her room like a limp doll. Every step felt like her legs were on fire, like someone had lit tiny torches inside her muscles and let them burn freely.
Once inside, she didn't even bother checking if dinner had been brought. The warm shower stung her sore body, but she welcomed it. It washed away the sweat, the stares, and the lingering doubt that had clung to her since she stepped onto that field.
By the time she crawled into bed, her limbs trembled with exhaustion. Her head hit the pillow, and she didn't even pull the sheets over herself.
Sleep came instantly.
For the first time in a long while, it wasn't fear that knocked her out, but fatigue. A different kind of pain. And strangely, she preferred this one.