I can feel the life around me in my bones as I race through the underbrush. The damp earth springy under my feet, the forest humming with life around me. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy overhead, casting dappled shadows that dance across my path like playful spirits.  

I hear my packmates through the trees behind me, their excited whuffs and low growls a familiar soundtrack to the thrill of the chase. The air is thick with the scent of pine and the musky tang of fallen leaves, energizing me with each breath I take. 

Leaves crunch and twigs snap under our weight as we weave through the ancient trees, our movements fluid and swift; a chorus of footfalls in perfect harmony with the wild heart of the forest. 

As we dart through the tangled greenery, a flash of movement catches out eye.  

A young deer, startled from its hiding place, bounds across our path.  

Instantly, the atmosphere electrifies; the air thickens with excitement as my packmates let out sharp eager barks. Their energy surges, a tangible wave that sweeps through the group, pulling us into an even faster, more exhilarating pursuit.  

The forest seems to pulse with our increased vigor, every leaf and branch vibrating as we race onward, completely in sync with the primal rhythm of the hunt. 

While the wolves run around me, I remain as a human. My bare feet sink into the loam swiftly and deftly yet not as fast or agile as my pack in their instinctually driven animal forms.  

Running in wolf form was instinctual, effortless; like slipping into a second skin. For a normal Shifter. But not for me. I push the thought away, focusing on the rush of the forest around me. 

There was something different about it, something raw. Feeling the bond of the pack thrumming through me while still tethered to my human skin made the connection feel more alive, more deliberate. 

A sharp twinge suddenly seized my calf, a harsh reminder of my human limitations admist this wild chase. I wince, the cramp clawing through my muscle, threatening to slow me down as I push through the underbrush, determined not to fall behind. 

With a loud commanding yip, I yell out, “Go catch us a good haul!”  

Their responses come in yips and howls, vibrant and full of life. As I ease my pace to a jog, they surge ahead with increased fervor, leaving me to the solitary embrace of the forest.  

The sound of their excited panting fades into the distance, and soon, all that surrounds me is the quiet whisper of the trees and the steady drum of my own heart.  

The forest, as familiar as the very room I sleep in each night, guides me effortlessly.  

A rush of adrenaline ignites within me, propelling me forward. I gather my strength and quicken my steps, my legs straining towards the familiar clearing of our pack’s training grounds where the earth knows the imprint of our feet and paws all too well. 

I burst through the last of the trees, skidding to a stop on the soft grass. I bend over, hands on my knees to support myself, beathing heavily. My body groans in protest from the exertion, so I let myself fall back, sprawling out to make a grass angel. 

“Joined the hunt today?” a deep baritone voice calls out. 

I look up as a broad shadow looms over me, shielding me from the sun’s warmth. My father’s grin is infectious as he extends a hand down to me.  

With a grin mirroring his and a groan at the effort of moving, I grasp his forearm. He pulls me to my feet, only releasing me once I’m steady. 

“Yes, as the Alpha’s daughter I should join in: even if I don’t have a wolf.” I declare, puffing out my chest and striking a pose of feigns confidence, a confidence I don’t truly feel. A shadow flickers across his eyes, quickly replaced by a brightening smile. 

“Good. Though, since it’s your birthday, I expected you to still be in bed ‘til noon, you lazy girl,” he teases, ruffling my hair affectionately. 

I swat at his arm, a wall of solid muscle, that leaves my hand red and stinging, but his grin only widens before he bursts into hearty laughter. As I cross my arms and wait for him to regain his composure, I can’t help but compare us. 

He stands tall, towering well above the average, his broad shoulders and warrior-built frame marking him unmistakably as an Alpha. His hazel eyes are set beneath bright strawberry blonde locks that catch the sunlight, thin like strands of cotton candy.  

In contrast, I’m shorter than most I know, with a petite, lithe runner’s body, and narrow shoulders. My hair, the same strawberry blonde as his that I often dye, is currently a dark purple, and my almond shaped eyes are a striking crystal aqua.  

We look nothing alike. 

Thoughts of my mother drift through my mind, her Oriental heritage woven deep into her blood. I bear little resemblance to her. The shape of my eyes, perhaps, and a faint olive tint to my skin, but beyond that, the mirror rarely reflects anything of her back at me. 

I almost ask him again, for the hundredth time, if I’m adopted, but the words catch in my throat.  

This isn’t the moment to stir up those shadows; I don’t want to see the scowl in place of his toothy smile. He’s been nothing short of an amazing father to me and my siblings; whom I’ve always been encouraged to consider my full-blooded family.  

The joy of today, the laughter we share, I can’t bear to dim it even with a flicker of negative emotion. 

The lightness of laughter fades slightly as he sees my hesitation. He leans in. “What’s on your mind, Sinsoel? You know you can ask me anything.” 

I shake my head, pushing the fleeting doubts away. “It’s nothing, Dad. Just birthday nerves, that’s all.” I look away, hiding the flicker of unresolved questions I have, watching the shadows fade quickly across the grass as the sun begins to hit it’s zenith. 

He studies me for a moment, a slow and low hum behind closed lips precedes a nod, accepting my deflection for now.  

“Remember, Sin, no question is too small or too big; whenever you’re ready.” He claps his hands together, rubbing them together in excitement. “Well then, birthday girl, I have a little surprise for you before the festival begins.” His tone is light, but his eyes are warm with a secret joy. 

Curiosity piqued; I forgot my earlier hesitation. “A surprise? What kind of surprise” I end on a note of suspicion.  

A mischievous twinkle lights up his gaze. “Oh, no! You don’t get to know that easily. You’ll have to wait until midnight to find out.” With that, he starts to head back to our village, but then he pauses, and I sense a distinct shift in his aura, a change so palpable it almost crackles in the air around us. 

Two figures are approaching from the direction of the village. Landon and Bryson, both strong contenders for the future Alpha position. The village is still taking bets on which one I will choose. Their determined strides were almost in sync, their expressions serious. 

“Alpha,” Landon calls out, his voice carrying over the distance. 

Both men cross the distance quickly, coming to a stop in front of us, their postures stiff and formal.  

I bite my tongue to stop the laugh bubbling up, I cannot take them seriously.  

I glance between them, feeling the weight of their determined stares, glad they weren’t weighing on me in this moment. 

“Sir, if I may,” Bryson starts, and Landon cuts in almost immediately, “we both believe it’s time to discuss the future of the pack… and which of us Sinsoel will choose.” Three pair of eyes shift to me, then flick back to each other.  

Dad surveys each face, his gaze finally resting on mine. A frown slowly mars the smile I had so diligently nurtured. 

“Gentlemen, this is neither the time nor the place–” 

“With all due respect, Alpha,” Landon interrupts, his gaze intense, bordering on defiant, “we believe it is precisely the time. We both wish to formally ask for Sinsoel’s hand in marriage; we’re suffering over here not knowing which one she’ll pick.” 

The words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected. Silence descends, and I find myself staring at my father, whose eyes widen a fraction. 

The atmosphere chills, and I shiver; the frost in my dad’s gaze could freeze anyone in place with fear. Landon stands resolute, his back straight, his brown eyes holding a wavering defiant spark.  

Bryson, silent since his interruption, diverts his gaze, a barely perceptible sigh escaping his lips. When he looks my way, his light grey eyes are filled with an unspoken apology. Both men are tall, yet they don’t quite match the imposing stature of my father. 

“Sin, go help your mother. I need to teach these whelps a lesson in how to properly speak to their Alpha.” Dad’s voice deepens, a growl roughening his tone, and I gulp.  

The lessons he imparts are known for their harshness, yet they are always just. I nod, turning on my heel and sprinting back toward the village.