Molly stood in the Hall of Judgment, hands on her hips, staring down her father. The air was thick with expectation—and a hint of desperation on his part.
"Father," she began, trying to sound as serious as possible while hiding her smirk, "I have something important to say."
Her father, a seasoned Beta commander with streaks of grey in his hair, leaned back in his chair. "Go on, child. Speak your mind."
"I… do not want to marry," she said, each word deliberate. "I want to be a warrior."
The room went silent. Even her younger sister, Asher, peeked from behind the pillars, wide-eyed.
Her father blinked, then coughed. "You… what?"
"I said, I want to fight. I want to train, to lead, to earn respect in battle—not in a ballroom. I don't want… wedding dresses or silver rings. I want swords, shields, and victory."
"Victory," he echoed slowly, as if tasting the word for the first time. "Molly… you are barely eighteen. You are a girl of the pack. The expectation—"
"Expectations?" Molly interrupted, grinning. "Let me guess. Marry the strongest Alpha in the park, bow gracefully, and pray I don't break a nail?"
Her father groaned. "Do you have any idea what you're asking?"
"I do," Molly said firmly. "I've trained for years. I've fought with the best, survived the worst, and yes… I've even outrun a few of the older Betas. I am ready."
Her father rubbed his temples. "And what of your sister? What example will you set for her?"
Molly glanced at Asher, who looked both nervous and admiring. "She's smart. She'll find her path. But for me… this is mine."
Her father sighed, defeated. "Then may the moon guide you, Molly the Brave. Just… be careful."
"Careful?" Molly laughed. "Careful is for Omegas who don't know how to swing a sword. I'll be fine."
Training Days
Eight years later, Molly was a legend in the SilverClaw female pack. The Hall of Judgment had faded into memory, replaced by the training grounds, where sweat, dust, and laughter were the language of the day.
"Ready to admit I'm the fastest in the pack?" she yelled, flipping over a sparring dummy with ease.
"You wish!" Rina shouted back, chasing her across the yard. "I'm not losing today!"
Molly rolled her eyes and vaulted over a log, landing perfectly. "I didn't realize losing was your hobby."
The younger female Betas watched, whispering. "She moves like an Alpha!" one said.
"She is an Alpha," another muttered.
Molly grinned. "Not yet, but I hear compliments suit me."
Funny Mishaps and Humor
Even during serious training, Molly's humor shone.
A rogue training dummy lunged at her legs. She ducked and jabbed it with her spear. "Watch your feet! Oh… you don't have any?" She laughed, flipping it over.
"Do you ever stop?" Rina asked, catching her breath.
"Only when I'm old, wrinkly, and still faster than you," Molly replied, grinning.
Her humor wasn't just jokes. It kept spirits high, even among exhausted soldiers. By the end of the day, Molly was respected, admired, and occasionally feared—all while making everyone laugh.
The Capture
Later that evening, as Molly practiced alone in the forest edge, something felt off. The breeze carried a faint metallic scent. She rolled her eyes. "RedFang spies? Really? Couldn't you pick a better hiding spot than under the trees?"
Before she could react, nets flew from the shadows, wrapping around her with magical precision. Molly twisted, flipped, and even kicked a few soldiers, laughing as she did. "Really? You call this subtle?"
The RedFang soldiers gritted their teeth and dragged her into the darkness. Molly's heart raced—but not with fear. Excitement. This was the real challenge she had been waiting for.
She smirked, even tied up, and muttered, "Nice try, boys. But I don't get caught that easily."
Her capture marked the end of her carefree training days. Soon, she would face tests, battles, and powers she had never imagined.
And yet, even in chains, Molly the Brave was unbroken.