~FREYA~

Freya paced her small cottage, her nerves crackling with anticipation. Tonight would change everything. She had waited for this day for so long—her eighteenth birthday, her first shift. Tonight, she would no longer be a child of the pack. She would have her wolf, her independence, and her freedom.

For years, she had lived on the edges of the pack, enduring the cruelty of its members. The beatings, the sneers, the whispers behind her back—all of it would be behind her. She would leave tonight, no matter what. If she had to go as a rogue, she would. But deep down, she prayed for another way, a kinder path. The Alpha had promised to help her find a place in a new pack, but part of her doubted he had even tried. Still, she had to ask.

Freya adjusted the straps on her backpack and took a final look around. She had packed everything she could carry—clothes, tools, and the meagre food supplies she had managed to save. Her gaze lingered on the cottage she had called home for the past two years. It had been her refuge, a fragile sanctuary from the pack’s torment. She would miss it, but the thought of a new life, free of the shadows that haunted this one, gave her hope.

Pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders, she stepped outside. The crisp evening air was heavy with the promise of change. She made her way through the forest path, her heart pounding as she approached the packhouse. To her relief, the village was quiet. Wolves moved about their business, oblivious to her passing. She whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess for small mercies.

At the packhouse, Beta George greeted her with a curt nod and led her to the Alpha’s office. She knocked gently and waited, her stomach twisting with anxiety. The door opened, and the Alpha himself stood there, his face unreadable.

“Ah, Freya. Right,” he said, stepping aside and motioning for her to enter.

Freya sat on the edge of the chair he indicated, her back straight, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. She trusted no one here, not even the Alpha.

“I asked a few nearby packs about taking you in,” he began, his tone awkward. “Unfortunately, none of them have any openings for someone of your…situation.”

Freya’s heart sank. She had expected this, but hearing it confirmed was still a blow. She looked down, her thick fringe hiding her expression, but the Alpha caught the tension in her posture.

“I’m sorry, Freya,” he said, and for once, his voice held genuine regret. She glanced up, surprised, and saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes. He coughed, shifting uncomfortably. “You don’t have to leave immediately. You could stay a little longer, and I can keep trying.”

Freya let out a quiet snort, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Not if I want to live,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, but she didn’t repeat herself. Instead, she stood, her head held high for the first time in years.

“You’re sorry, Alpha,” she said, her voice steady, “but I’m sorrier. I cannot stay. If I have to be a rogue, I will be a rogue. I have lived on the outskirts of this pack since I was sixteen, if not before. That has prepared me.”

Her words were calm, measured, but they cut through the Alpha like a blade. He watched her, stunned, as she continued.

“I’m grateful you let me stay in the cottage. I know you could have thrown me out at any time. And I appreciate that you tried, even if it was too late. None of this is your fault, but it is also not mine. I should have left long ago.”

Before he could respond, she turned and left, closing the door softly behind her. The Alpha stared at the closed door, guilt swirling in his chest. He had known what she endured, and he had done nothing to stop it. Now she was leaving, and he wasn’t sure she would survive.

“George,” he called, summoning his Beta. “Freya is shifting tonight. Go to her cottage at dusk and make sure she is safe. Do not let anyone harm her.”

George raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Of course, Alpha.”

The sun dipped below the horizon as Freya waited at the cottage, her nerves mounting. A knock at the door made her jump, but when she opened it, she was met with Darice’s warm smile.

“Happy Birthday, Freya!” Darice exclaimed, thrusting a cupcake with an unlit candle into her hands. She stepped inside, lighting the candle and placing it carefully on the table. “And this,” she said, pulling out a wrapped package, “is for you.”

Freya opened the gift carefully, her hands trembling. Inside was a long, waxed cloak, its material sturdy and waterproof. She squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Darice.

“Thank you! Thank you!” she repeated, her voice filled with genuine joy.

Darice laughed, hugging her tightly. “The moon is coming, Freya. Are you ready?”

Freya nodded, her excitement mingling with fear. She stepped outside, draping the cloak over her shoulders. They hadn’t gone far when two figures emerged from the shadows.

“Beta George,” Darice said, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“The Alpha sent us,” George replied, nodding toward Freya. “We’re here to ensure her shift is safe.”

Freya blinked, her eyes wide with surprise. She whispered her thanks, though Tobias, the other warrior, made her uneasy with his intense stare.

The shift began slowly, a tingling itch spreading over Freya’s skin. She lay on her side as Darice had instructed, her breaths shallow as the sensation grew stronger. Then the pain came. It was searing, relentless, tearing through her as her bones cracked and reshaped. She cried out, her screams piercing the still night.

George, Tobias, and Darice stood close, their faces tense but helpless. Shifts could take hours, but in mere minutes, the pain subsided, and the cloak slipped off her body.

A collective gasp filled the air. Where Freya had been moments ago, a wolf now lay, its fur white as snow. White wolves were incredibly rare, a mark of extraordinary power and lineage. Freya opened her eyes, and they glowed a translucent lilac, otherworldly and breathtaking.

Darice knelt first, reaching out a trembling hand. Freya nudged it with her muzzle, her movements gentle. Then she turned her gaze to George, who stared back at her in awe.

When her eyes met Tobias’s, he stepped back, his face pale. “Mate,” he growled, his voice thick with shock and something more.

Freya’s wolf tilted her head, her ears twitching as the weight of his words settled over them all.

—–

Authors note: if you’re enjoying this story i would really appreciate a comment. This is the first shifter book I’ve tried and i realise it needs padding out. It will be turned into a book and completed then if people think it’s worth it… so do let me know if you are liking it enough for me to carry on 🙂

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