Chapter 4: An Invitation From the King
The next morning, Alyra was awoken by the sharp vibration of her phone. Disoriented, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of her nightstand before she finally grasped the device. The light from her screen was blinding and she squinted as she saw the text message that had woken her peaceful slumber.
Mom: Come to dinner tonight. 6 PM. Don’t be late.
The message was brief and carried an unmistakable weight. It had been weeks since she last sat at their dinner table. Her mother’s messages always carried the same unspoken tension. It felt like an invitation wrapped in duty rather than warmth.
With a slow exhale, Alyra swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stretching. Then, with a flick of her thumb, she typed a simple reply.
Alyra: I’ll be there.
By the time she walked to the front of her childhood home, dusk had settled, draping the world in shades of amber and violet. The house stood as it always had. It was pristine, its tidy front yard and meticulously trimmed hedges a testament to her mother’s unrelenting need for order. Yet, beneath its perfect structure, Alyra could feel the quiet unease that had always lingered there.
Her mother answered the door with a measured smile, her gaze skimming over Alyra as if assessing something unspoken. "Come in, sweetheart. Dinner is almost ready."
Stepping inside, Alyra inhaled deeply, letting the aroma of roasted chicken and herbs momentarily soothe her nerves. It was a scent tied to childhood, to comfort, but it was also tied to obligation.
Her father sat at the dining table, a thick stack of papers pushed aside. He was one of the Alpha's right-hand men and was constantly going through different documents the Alpha needed taken care of. At the sight of her, he nodded, offering a small, genuine smile. "Alyra."
“Dad,” she returned, her voice soft as she slid into the chair she had occupied for most of her life.
Dinner passed with the usual pleasantries. Her parents asked her surface-level questions about her writing, and gave polite nods about her progress. Her mother’s eyes flickered with something close to pride when Alyra spoke of her latest project, but neither of them dared tread deeper into the conversation. Her father mentioned pack matters in vague terms, though Alyra sensed an underlying unease in the way he carefully selected his words.
It wasn’t until the plates were nearly cleared that the tension shifted. Her mother, ever poised, set down her fork with deliberate precision, folding her hands in her lap before inhaling deeply.
“We received an invitation today,” she announced.
Alyra’s brows furrowed slightly. “An invitation?”
Her mother gave a slow nod, her expression unreadable. “From the Royal Pack. The Alpha King is hosting a ball in search of a mate. All unmated wolves are required to attend.”
The words sent a sharp current of disbelief through Alyra. Her grip tightened around her napkin. "Wait… what?"
Without a word, her mother slid a neatly folded letter across the table. Alyra reached for it, her fingers brushing against the crisp parchment. The script inside was elegant yet authoritative. The Alpha King was searching for his mate and attendance was not optional for any unmated wolf.
And the date?
April 18th.
Which just happened to be her twenty-first birthday.
A heavy silence settled over the table as Alyra held the invitation, broken only by the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Alyra reread the letter, her pulse in her ears.
"You’re hesitant," her father observed, watching her carefully.
Alyra pressed her lips together, her voice barely steady. "I mean… I wasn’t expecting to spend my birthday at a royal ball."
Her mother’s gaze sharpened, her tone almost imploring. "It’s an opportunity, Alyra. You may find your mate there."
The thought sent a surge of conflicting emotions through Alyra. Excitement, trepidation and hope. A mate from another pack could be everything to her. An escape from Silver Moon.
But her mother’s expression remained taut, her fingers tightening slightly over the edge of the table.
"You don’t want me to go, do you?" Alyra asked quietly, her eyes flicking between them.
Her father exhaled slowly, resignation settling in his features. "We know you dream of leaving, Alyra. We always have. But we also know what’s out there, and we worry… especially given your circumstances."
“Because I’m different,” she murmured, the weight of that single truth pressing against her chest.
Her mother’s lips thinned. “Yes. And you know how our pack has treated you. Other packs may be no kinder.”
Alyra felt a familiar ache in her stomach. She had spent years reminded that she was not like the others in the pack. He differences made her an outsider even among her own people.
But this invitation wasn’t a choice.
“If we refuse,” her father continued, his voice low, “there will be consequences.”
There it was, the truth to the invitation. She had read that all unmated wolves were required to attend the ball.
Alyra swallowed hard, nodding as she pushed aside the tangle of emotions threatening to unravel inside her. “Then I guess I’m going.”
Her mother’s nod was nearly imperceptible, though disapproval flickered in her eyes.
The remainder of the meal passed in silence.
Later, as Alyra closed the door to her apartment behind her, she exhaled deeply, the reality of the night pressing down on her. The ball was a chance for her to find a mate and finally break free.
It should have filled her with excitement.
Instead, it left her feeling unsteady, as if she were teetering on the edge of something far greater than she could comprehend.
She absently ran a hand through her silver strands, her gaze drifting toward the scattered unfinished drafts that littered her small space. The apartment that had never really felt like home looked back at her. Alyra's reflection was caught in the window, her eyes were wide and she looked unsure of herself.
Then, her phone vibrated.
Mom*: I know you don’t have anything to wear. Go to the boutique in town tomorrow. They have my information on file. Pick out a dress.*
Alyra’s lips twitched into a small smile. It was a rare offering from her mother.
Then, the next message arrived.
Mom*: You must keep up our family image since you tarnished it in this pack long ago.*
The warmth she was feeling in her chest withered instantly.
Alyra let out a slow, steady breath, the familiar weight of expectation settling over her. No matter how much she tried, it seemed like she would never be good enough.
Her fingers hovered over the screen before she finally typed: Thanks, Mom. I’ll go tomorrow.
Setting the phone aside, she let her head rest against the couch, her thoughts a tangled mess of dread and anticipation.
