Sierra
Sierra Greywood's claws dug deep into the earth as excruciating pain tore through her body. The prophetic vision ripped through her consciousness, forcing her wolf out. The third attack this month, always showing the same terrifying future. Her bones threatening to break through skin, she doubled over in the moonlit clearing.
Not now. Please, not now.
The vision seized her again. Silver moonlight, blood on stone, and amber eyes turning away, a terrible rejection that would shatter everything.
The pain retreated. Sierra gasped, fighting to shift her claws back to human fingernails. She stared at the grooves she'd carved, hands shaking as she smoothed the earth, hiding her loss of control.
No one could know. Not when she stood on the precipice of everything she'd wanted.
Tomorrow was her twentieth birthday—the day she could officially request mate recognition with Dominic Silvercloud, Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. The man whose scarce smiles sent her heart racing, whose scent of pine and mountain air called to her wolf. Her fated mate.
If the pack knew their healer was having erratic shifts and visions, they'd question her competency, her right to stand beside their Alpha.
Twenty minutes later, she pushed through the medical center doors, breathing in the familiar comfort of herbs and disinfectant.
"There you are!" Maya Willowbrook looked up from arranging supplies, green eyes taking in Sierra's appearance. "You look like you've been wrestling a cougar!"
Sierra forced a smile. "Just went for a run."
Maya raised an eyebrow but let it go. As Beta's daughter from neighboring Timber Ridge Pack, she understood pack politics. Their friendship had endured despite historical friction between their packs.
"While you were communing with nature, three packmates asked about your headache tincture. And Elder Grayson's arthritis is flaring."
Sierra nodded, grateful for work's distraction. She methodically chose herbs: feverfew, lavender, white willow bark. Her hands worked from memory, following her grandmother's teachings.
"Big day tomorrow," Maya said casually.
Sierra's stomach jumped. "It's just a birthday."
"Right. Just the day you can officially ask for mate recognition from the sexiest Alpha in three territories. No biggie."
Heat rose up Sierra's neck. "It's not guaranteed he'll accept."
Maya snorted. "Everyone knows you're fated. The look he gives you? The dude's drowning in pheromones around you."
Sierra crushed herbs forcefully. Their professional encounters had slowly shifted to lingering glances and brief touches that ignited fire within her.
"Politics might interfere," Sierra said quietly. "Victor's pushing for alliance with Mooncrest Pack. Through Sasha."
Maya grimaced. "Sasha 'I was born to be Luna' Mooncrest? That political match would be like mating a designer handbag—pretty but soulless."
Sierra laughed despite her anxiety. "Don't let Victor hear that."
She poured arthritis salve into a ceramic jar, pocketing it. "I'll be back."
Walking through the compound toward Elder Grayson's cabin, Sierra hoped to glimpse Dominic. The compound bustled with activity—wolves training, carrying supplies, pups chasing each other near the fire pit.
"Sierra!"
Electricity shot through her at his voice. Dominic approached with predatory grace. Tall, carrying the Alpha burden since his father's brutal murder two years ago. Dark hair caught golden highlights while amber eyes, the same from her vision, locked onto hers.
"Alpha," she greeted formally, aware of watching eyes.
"I hear you're finalizing the silver exposure pain management protocol. The council wants a presentation next week."
Business. Always business in public. But warmth in his eyes revealed more beneath his Alpha mask.
"Of course. I'll prepare the demonstration."
He nodded, and briefly his formal demeanor eased. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?"
His question caught her off guard. Behind them, enforcers pretended not to listen.
"I am—" Victor Caldone interrupted, immaculate with salt-and-pepper hair.
"Alpha, the Mooncrest envoy arrived early. They're waiting in your office."
Something flashed in Dominic's eyes, frustration? Acceptance? Gone before she could process it.
"Thank you, Sierra. We'll continue this later."
She watched him walk away with Victor whispering something that tightened Dominic's shoulders. The Beta glanced back, gray eyes measuring her.
Elder Grayson's cabin sat among old pines on the compound's eastern edge. The ancient advisor to three Alpha generations understood pack politics better than anyone.
Sierra knocked lightly.
"Come in, child. These old bones knew you were coming."
The cabin smelled of pipe smoke and books. Elder Grayson sat in worn leather, heavy book in his lap, silver hair framing sharp eyes.
"I brought more salve," Sierra said, placing the jar beside him.
"Bless you." He smiled. "Just in time. The moon's playing fierce on these bones."
Sierra knelt, placing hands on his gnarled knuckles. Eyes closed, she channeled her healing gift, feeling warmth flow through her arms to her fingertips, visualizing the inflammation decreasing and tissues repairing.
When she opened her eyes, he was watching her intently.
"Your power is growing. Just like your mother's."
Sierra's chest ached at the mention. "Grandmother said I've surpassed her."
"Iris is slow to praise." He closed the book and Sierra glimpsed ancient symbols before the cover shut. "Tomorrow is your twentieth?"
She nodded, nervous under his gaze.
"Big day for any young wolf. Especially one with your... heritage."
Something in his tone made her wolf jitter. "What about my heritage?"
His expression hardened. "Healing runs in your family. A valuable gift." He hesitated. "Have you had unusual experiences lately? Dreams?"
The visions swirled, silver light, blood, amber eyes turning away. Her heart raced.
"No," she lied. "Nothing unusual."
He scrutinized her before sighing. "If you do have unexpected experiences, come immediately. Some gifts are burdens, Sierra."
Walking home in fading light, his words disturbed her. First visions, then grandmother's premonitions about family secrets, now Elder Grayson's warnings. Something was happening, bigger than pack politics.
Her cabin embraced her with familiar comforts, dried herbs hanging from beams, medical textbooks lining shelves, lingering pine scent. Her sanctuary since becoming orphaned at sixteen.
A knock announced her grandmother. Iris Greywood entered, silver hair in a tidy knot, moving with elegant grace despite seventy years. Former pack healer who'd recognized Sierra's superior gift.
"I brought rosemary bread." She set the wrapped loaf down, sharp eyes appraising Sierra. "You had another episode."
Not a question. Sierra nodded, sitting.
"The same vision?" Iris sat opposite her.
"Yes. Rejection. Pain. Something shifting inside me." Sierra shivered despite the cabin's warmth. "What's happening to me?"
Iris gripped Sierra's hands firmly. "I've withheld things about our family until now. Greywood women have always been more than healers."
"What do you mean?"
"There's a prophecy passed down for generations. About a silver wolf rising when the pack faces their darkest hour." Iris paused. "I believe you are that wolf."
Sierra stared in disbelief. "Me? But I'm just—"
Ice crystals of pain pierced her skull. Sierra gasped, pressing palms to her head. When she pulled away, a long strand came with them. Unlike her inherited raven black, this lock was pure, shimmering silver.
Her grandmother's face blanched, reaching to touch the hair.
"It's beginning," Iris whispered, "just like I feared."