Chapter 1The old Alpha's estate was being divided up.
My sister Fiona got $5 million.
My brother Evan got $5 million.
Then it was my turn.
The Pack Elder paused for three full seconds and glanced at me.
"A photograph."
I froze.
"What the hell? A photograph?!"
He slid an envelope across the table.
I opened it. Inside was a photo from twenty years ago.
So Fiona and Evan each walked away with $5 million, and I got a photograph?
Real fair, Father. Real fucking fair.
I stared at that photo for what felt like forever.
Seventeen-year-old me. Hair pulled back. Training tunic. Standing under the silver oak in our old den's courtyard.
It was a month before the Alpha Trials. Father came home - rare as hell - and said he wanted to take my picture.
"When you get into the High Academy, I'm gonna blow this up and hang it in the great hall."
He was grinning like an idiot that day. Even wore his formal pack vest for the occasion.
That was the only photo he ever took of me.
And the last time he ever said, "You got this, pup."
"Hey." Evan's voice cut through my thoughts. "You okay?"
I looked up at him.
His face was all twisted up - like he wanted to comfort me but had no clue how.
"I'm fine."
I slid the photo back into the envelope and stood up.
"We done here? I'm leaving."
"Wait." Fiona stopped me. "Aren't you gonna say something?"
I turned around.
Fiona was wrapped in some expensive-ass white fur coat, designer heels clicking on the stone floor.
She'd mated into the Northern Pack two years ago, moved into a penthouse in the capital - dowry courtesy of her mate's family, obviously.
"Say what?"
"I mean..." She hesitated. "Don't you think the way Father divided things is - "
"No."
I grabbed my bag.
"Father's fortune, Father's call. It's done. What's there to talk about?"
"But - "
"Fiona." I cut her off. "You got your $5 million. I got my photograph. We go our separate ways. Sounds perfect to me."
Fiona's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Evan stood there staring at the floor, lost in his own head.
I didn't look back. Just walked out.
Outside, rain was falling - cold as a bitch.
I stood in front of the Elder's hall and lit a cigarette.
Quit three years ago. Guess today was relapse day.
Five million.
Five million.
One photograph.
I laughed - no idea at what.
Twenty years.
From seventeen to thirty-seven, I gave everything to this pack for twenty goddamn years.
And in the end, Father left me a photo from twenty years ago.
My phone buzzed. Mama.
"Hey, sweetie. You pups done?"
"Yeah."
"Where are Fiona and Evan?"
"No clue. I left."
"Why didn't you wait for them?"
"Mama." I took a long drag. "I'm exhausted. I wanna go home."
"Home? Which home?"
I froze.
Yeah. Which home?
The pack den? Father's will made it crystal clear - Evan gets it.
My rental? A shitty 500-square-foot box on the edge of pack territory. $2,500 a month.
I don't own a den.
I'm thirty-seven years old, my mate left five years ago, no pups, less than $200K in savings.
And it all started with that photograph.
That summer when I was seventeen.
I ranked in the top 3% of all trainees in the Alpha Trials.
I was gonna go to the High Academy. Train under the Council Masters.
Father glanced at my acceptance scroll and said -
"Why the hell does a she-wolf need the Academy? Evan's applying next year. You think we can afford two tuitions?"
That night, I howled into my pillow until I couldn't breathe.
The next morning, I ripped up my acceptance scroll and took a job at the pack's textile mill.
I was seventeen.
Evan was sixteen.
From that day on, my wages went straight to Mama.
I kept $300 a month for myself. The rest? Sent home.
To pay for Evan's training.
Evan's Academy.
Evan's Officer School.
Evan's den down payment.
Evan's mating ceremony.
Fifteen years. I funded his entire fucking life.
"Sweetie? You still there?" Mama's voice crackled through the phone.
"Yeah."
"Fiona wants to take everyone out for a pack feast. You know, in your father's memory - "
"Not going."
"Hey!"
"Mama. I'm tired."
I hung up.
Stood there in the rain. Lit another cigarette.
That photograph was still in my bag.
I touched the envelope. Didn't pull it out.
Twenty years.
I finally know what I'm worth to the old Alpha father.
Not $5 million.
Not $500K.
Not even $50K.
A photograph.
A photograph he never looked at again for twenty fucking years.
Chapter 2
I waved down a pack shuttle and headed back to my place.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Hey, miss. You okay? You look kinda rough."
"I'm fine. Probably just the rain."
"Weather like this'll mess up your coat. Take care of yourself, yeah?"
"Mm."
I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.
My head was a mess - just one memory after another crashing in.
I thought about the day my Trial scores came out.
Top 3% of all trainees across the territory.
My den-mother called, practically howling into the phone. "Stella! You're the highest-scoring she-wolf this pack has seen in years! The High Academy's a lock!"
Mama and Father were over the moon - for about a week.
Pack relatives swarmed the den like locusts, all smiles and congratulations.
Uncle Rob clapped Father on the back. "Man, your pup's killing it. She's gonna be somebody."
Uncle Tim nodded along. "First she-wolf from this territory to get into the Academy. That's legacy, brother."
Mama couldn't stop grinning. She kept shoving roasted meat and honey cakes at everyone.
Father just sat in the yard smoking, didn't say much - but I could tell he was proud.
Those were the happiest days of my life.
Then the acceptance scroll came.
August 15th. I remember it like it was yesterday.
The courier rode up on his bike, hollering from down the path. "Stella! Your scroll's here!"
I ran outside, hands shaking as I grabbed the envelope.
Tore it open. A crimson acceptance scroll stared back at me.
The High Academy. Council Masters Program.
I stared at those words until my eyes blurred with tears.
I did it.
I actually did it.
Then Father took the scroll from me. His face changed.
"How much is tuition?"
"Uh... $48,000 a year."
"Den and board?"
"Another $8,000."
"Living expenses?"
"...Maybe 3,000 to 4,000 a month."
Father didn't say anything. Just set the scroll down on the table and lit another cigarette.
That night, he and Mama talked in their room for hours.
I crouched by the door, listening.
Mama's voice was soft. "Let her go. She's smart. She'll earn her own rank."
Father cut her off. "So what? She'll just find a mate and it'll all be for nothing. Look at the Harris she-wolf - graduated top of her class and ended up a den-mother. Total waste of coin."
"But - "
"Evan's applying next year." Father's voice was flat. "If Stella goes, we're burning $60K a year. Evan won't get into a good post without support. And if he doesn't, his future's gone. Stella's a she-wolf. She doesn't need the Academy. She'll find a mate."
Mama went silent.
Then she said, "So... how do we tell her?"
"I'll handle it."
The next morning, Father called me into the yard.
He stood under the silver oak, cigarette in hand, staring off at the mountains.
"Stella."
"Yeah, Father?"
"Your brother's applying next year. We don't have the coin. So you - "
He didn't finish.
I already knew.
"You want me to give up my spot. Right?"
He didn't answer.
Just dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his boot.
"You're a she-wolf. The Academy won't do you any good. Find a decent male, settle into a den - that's what matters."
I stood there. Couldn't say a word.
Tears streaming down my face.
Father glanced at me and frowned. "Why are you crying? I'm doing this for you."
For me.
That's what he said.
That night, I shoved the acceptance scroll into the bottom drawer of my desk.
Didn't rip it. Didn't burn it.
Just... buried it.
Twenty years.
I never opened that drawer again.
The shuttle stopped.
"Miss. We're here."
I blinked, paid, and got out.
The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gray as hell.
I stood outside my building, staring up at my window.
Fifth floor. North-facing. Shit lighting.
I'd lived here for five years.
Why'd I move here five years ago?
Because Father had a stroke.
The healer said he needed full-time care.
Fiona was up in the Northern Pack. Evan had just bought a den. Mama was too old to handle it alone.
So I came.
I was thirty-two.
I'd worked at the pack's textile mill for fifteen years. Finally clawed my way up to floor supervisor.
I quit. Sold my beat-up eight-year-old sedan. Moved to this border town, rented this box, and became Father's full-time caretaker.
Five years.
Five fucking years.
Chapter 3
I pushed open the door. Same smell hit me like a wall.
Disinfectant. Old wolf funk. A hint of mildew.
Five years of that stench had seeped into the walls. No amount of herbs could kill it.
I collapsed onto the couch and pulled out the photograph.
Seventeen-year-old me, grinning like an idiot.
Back then, I had no clue that three days later, my life would implode.
Back then, I thought getting into the High Academy was the beginning of something.
I flipped the photo over. Scribbled on the back in Father's chicken-scratch handwriting:
"Stella, crush those Trials."
His handwriting was shit - barely literate, honestly.
But I'd carried those words for twenty years.
Ironic, right?
The man who stole my future wrote "crush those Trials" on the back of a photo.
Then something clicked in my head.
How did this photo even happen?
A month before the Trials, Father came home - rare as hell.
He'd been working border patrol out in the outer territories. Barely saw him twice a year.
That day, he showed up with a camera.
Some cheap point-and-shoot. Someone gave it to him. Probably used.
"Stella, c'mere. Let me get a shot of you."
I stood under the silver oak. He aimed the camera at me.
"Smile."
I did.
He pressed the button.
Then he said, "When you get into the Academy, I'm gonna blow this up and hang it in the great hall."
I nodded, giddy as hell.
But then what?
I didn't go to the Academy.
No - I got in. I just didn't go.
And that photo? Never blown up. Never framed. Never hung anywhere.
I thought it was lost forever.
Twenty years later, it shows up in Father's will.
As the only thing he left me.
My phone buzzed. Text from Evan.
"Hey. I know Father's split wasn't fair. How about I give you half of mine? $2.5 million?"
I stared at the screen for a solid minute.
Half.
Two and a half million dollars.
Enough to buy a decent den in this territory.
Enough to coast through the rest of my life.
I typed back:
"No thanks."
Sent.
Three seconds later, Evan called.
"Stella! Don't be stubborn. I'm serious!"
"I'm not being stubborn."
"Then why won't you take it?"
"Because it's not your coin."
Silence.
"What do you mean?"
"That $5 million? Father left it to you. He had his reasons. Keep it."
"But - "
"Evan." I cut him off. "Do you remember who paid for your Academy training?"
The line went dead quiet.
"I did," I said. "Basic training. Officer School. Commander's Program. Tuition, living expenses, even that prep course you took for your Elite Trials. All me."
"I know. I've never forgotten - "
"Good. But I'm not asking you to pay me back. I gave you that coin willingly. Consider it a gift."
"Stella..."
"How much was your mating ceremony? The whole package - bond-ring, feast, down payment on the den?"
Evan didn't answer.
"Fifty grand," I said. "I covered ten. Mama and Father covered forty. And twenty of that forty came from wages I'd been sending home for years."
"Stella, I - "
"And my mating ceremony? How much did they give me?"
Still nothing.
"Two thousand dollars," I answered for him. "In a red envelope. Handed to me in front of the whole pack at the feast."
"Back then, they really didn't have - "
"Didn't have what?" My voice rose. "The year you bought your den, they handed you forty grand. But the year I found my mate, they were suddenly broke? Two thousand bucks was all they could scrape together?"
"That's not what I meant..."
"Evan." I exhaled slowly. "I'm not asking you for coin. I just want you to understand - I've given enough to this pack."
"Stella..."
"Keep the $5 million. Handle Mama's care with Fiona from now on. I'm out."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm tired."
I hung up.
Leaned back against the couch. Stared at the ceiling.
Tired.
