The Alpha did not speak again until the hall was cleared.
He waited as the elders ushered the pack away, as whispers were swallowed by stone walls and heavy doors. He waited until Elira was led from the room, her face pale and confused, and until Lena's mother was finally forced to retreat—tight-lipped, furious, and afraid in a way she had not been before.
Only then did he turn to Lena.
"Come with me," he said.
It was not an order.
That unsettled her more than if it had been.
They walked in silence down a narrow corridor she had never been allowed to enter. The walls were lined with old banners—symbols of past packs, past Alphas. History lived here. Judgment too.
Lena's steps slowed instinctively.
She had spent her whole life learning when a door was not meant for her.
The Alpha noticed.
"You are not in trouble," he said without looking back.
She didn't answer. Words felt dangerous. Fragile.
He stopped before a small chamber lit by a single fire bowl. No guards. No witnesses. Just stone, shadow, and the low hum of power that clung to him like a second skin.
He gestured for her to sit.
Lena remained standing.
"That's all right," he said quietly. "We can talk like this."
Talk.
No one had ever asked to talk with her before.
He studied her openly now—not her face alone, but the way she held herself, the tension in her shoulders, the careful stillness of someone who had learned that movement drew attention.
"How long have you known?" he asked.
"Known what?" Lena replied.
"That you did not belong to the story they told."
Her throat tightened.
"I've always known I didn't belong," she said. "I just didn't know why."
The Alpha nodded once, as if that confirmed something.
"Your scent," he said slowly, "does not match this pack."
Lena's breath caught.
"It hasn't ever," he continued. "Not fully. Even hidden, even starved of space and voice—blood remembers."
She shook her head. "They said I was adopted."
"They lied."
The word was not cruel. It was factual.
The Alpha stepped closer—not into her space, but near enough that the air shifted again. His wolf stirred, restless, alert.
"You carry Alpha blood," he said.
The silence that followed felt enormous.
Lena stared at him. "That's not possible."
"It is," he replied. "And it is dangerous that it was hidden."
Her heart pounded. "My mother—"
"Was abandoned," he finished. "And she never forgave the child who reminded her."
Lena flinched.
The Alpha's gaze sharpened—not at her, but at the truth itself.
"Your father was not just any wolf," he continued. "He was of an old line. A strong one. He left before his rise—but not before leaving his mark."
Lena's hands curled into fists. "Then why wasn't I claimed? Why was I left?"
The Alpha did not answer immediately.
"When a bond calls," he said at last, "it does not ask permission. Some men follow it without looking back."
Lena swallowed hard. "So I was just… collateral."
"No," he said firmly. "You were inconvenient."
The word stung—but it rang true.
"You should have been protected," he went on. "Raised openly. Trained. Seen."
His eyes met hers again.
"They hid you because they were afraid of what you represented."
"And what is that?" Lena asked quietly.
The Alpha's voice lowered. "A truth they could not control."
Something inside her shifted—not power, not rage, but understanding. A quiet, terrible clarity.
"I don't want anything from them," she said. "I just want to exist without being locked away."
For the first time, something like respect crossed his face.
"That," he said, "is not an unreasonable desire."
He turned slightly, as if considering something heavy.
"The pack will ask questions now," he continued. "Your bloodline will not stay hidden. And your mother will not be able to bury this again."
Lena's chest tightened. "What happens to me?"
The Alpha met her gaze steadily.
"That," he said, "depends on what you choose to become."
The fire crackled softly between them.
For the first time in her life, Lena felt the future open—not kind, not gentle, but real.
And she realized something else too.
She had survived being forgotten.
Now the world would have to learn what that meant.