Wounded Alpha, Healing Mate

The Alden estate was lit with golden chandeliers, sparkling crystal goblets, and the loud clinking of expensive heels across polished marble floors. Guests flowed in like silk draped in fine fabrics, perfumed with rare oils, all eyes turned toward the center of the celebration.

It was Liana Alden's birthday, the event of the season, if the buzz in the Beta circles was to be believed.

Everything shimmered. Everything dazzled. Everything revolved around her.

And Mira Alden was nowhere in the spotlight.

Instead, she stood in the back kitchen, elbow-deep in dishwater, scrubbing silverware that had long since lost its charm. Her sleeves were rolled up, her palms wrinkled and raw. She could hear the laughter from the banquet hall echoing through the corridor like a taunt.

Another cheer went up as Liana walked into the room, probably in one of her expensive imported gowns, probably gifted by Father as another public declaration of his "precious girl's" worth. Mira didn't need to see it to know the scene. Liana would beam, curtsy lightly, and drink in the praise like nectar. Their parents, especially Mother, would look on like proud monarchs watching their heir rise.

Mira's birthday had come and gone three months ago. No one remembered. Not even a slice of cake. Just the usual instructions: sweep the upper hallways and don't disturb Liana's piano lessons.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and forced herself not to flinch when the tray of glasses rattled behind her.

"Be careful with those," barked Mrs. Brigs, the housekeeper, as if Mira were another member of the staff. "Your mother doesn't want fingerprints on the crystal. Liana's guests are important, and your clumsy hands..."

"I've got it," Mira said quietly.

"No need to take that tone," Mrs. Brigs grumbled, swishing out of the room.

Mira exhaled, sinking briefly onto the stool beside the wooden prep counter. Her back ached from standing since dawn. She'd helped the decorators hang lanterns, arranged Liana's name in flowers, and ensured the ice sculpture of a wolf, Liana's wolf animal, of course, was centered perfectly on the dessert table.

Not once had anyone said thank you.

And yet, she was still here, still invisible, still obedient.

The sharp scent of rosemary and cinnamon in the air reminded her of the homemade salves she used to mix in secret. Hidden between the pages of her worn healing manual were her dreams...dreams of studying at the Lycan Academy of Healing and Wolf Medicine, where she could actually use her gifts to help others. Mira had been born with a rare connection to energy, she could feel the heat in fevers before they spiked, sense infections before symptoms appeared. But her parents dismissed it as childish fantasy.

"You'll do as you're told," her father had said just last week when she mentioned her wish again. "Aldens don't waste time chasing fairy tales. Your place is here."

And "here" was apparently in the shadows of Liana's spotlight.

Footsteps approached, and Mira rose instinctively. Her mother, Clarissa Alden, swept in, her fitted emerald dress gleaming like envy itself. Her blond curls were pinned into an elegant twist, and she wore the family heirloom sapphire necklace, the one she said Mira would never be refined enough to inherit.

"There you are," Clarissa said, not bothering to mask her distaste. "Have you finished polishing the wine set?"

"Yes," Mira replied.

Her mother sniffed. "Then go upstairs and fetch Liana's spare heels. She changed her mind about the gold pair."

Of course she did. Mira nodded and slipped out before she could say something she'd regret. The hallway was long and silent, the echoes of the party fading the farther she went. The estate was beautiful, sure, but it always felt like a house that belonged to someone else. Liana's laughter floated down the stairs. Mira's heart thudded with something like envy but deeper. Something like longing.

She opened the door to Liana's walk-in closet and knelt to find the gold heels. A photograph caught her eye, Liana posing with their parents at last year's Alpha Ball. Mira had been in the photo too originally, but her mother had it cropped. She found the original once in a drawer.

Tears threatened to sting her eyes, but Mira blinked them back. Crying didn't fix anything. She returned to the party floor just in time to see the guest of honor being lifted into the air by her friends, the room echoing with cheers.

"Make way for the birthday princess!" someone roared.

Mira slipped in silently, handing off the shoes. She turned to go, only to collide with Logan, Liana's arrogant mate-in-waiting. Mira dropped her tray, and glass shattered.

"Watch it, mutt," he snapped, stepping back in disgust.

"Logan," Liana's voice chimed sweetly as she approached, looping her arm through his. "She's just the help. Let's not ruin my night over a servant."

A few people chuckled. Mira's face burned.

She knelt down, sweeping the glass into a dustpan. But she didn't miss the look her father gave her from across the room, cold, sharp, disapproving.

Back in the kitchen, Mira leaned against the sink and let herself breathe before starting the cleaning up.