brace yourself

brace yourself
By the time I reached my room, my steps felt heavier than they should have. My chest still ached from the way Aiden had misunderstood me, his words echoing in my head like a door slamming shut. I had gone to him with relief, with hope, only for it to backfire. Now all I could think about was how cold his voice had sounded when he promised to leave.
The door clicked behind me, and silence rushed in like a tide. I leaned against it, my palms pressed flat against the wood as though I needed it to hold me up. The room smelled faintly of pine and smoke, a reminder that I was far from home, surrounded by people who didn’t trust me, didn’t want me. My heart sank deeper at the thought.
I crossed to the bed and sat, my shoulders folding inward as the weight of everything pressed down on me—Eric’s death, the pack’s suspicion, Aiden’s distance, and the gnawing fear that maybe, no matter what I did, I would never belong anywhere.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the grain of the wooden floor, trying to quiet the storm inside me. But then came the knock. Firm, steady, no hesitation.
My stomach lurched. For a heartbeat, I prayed it might be Aiden—coming back, ready to listen. But the rhythm of the knock told me otherwise. It wasn’t tentative, wasn’t uncertain. Whoever stood on the other side knew exactly what they wanted.
I forced myself to rise and open the door.
Standing there was the man I had recognized as the beta the night before—the one with the calm authority that seemed to ripple through the other wolves without him needing to speak much. His eyes were a shade of gray that reminded me of storm clouds, piercing and unreadable. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“Advika,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “It’s time you introduced yourself to the pack. They’re gathered, waiting to hear who you are.”
The air left my lungs as though he had struck me. My fingers gripped the edge of the door, white-knuckled. “Introduce myself?” I echoed, my voice quieter than I intended.
His gaze didn’t waver. “Yes. They need to know who’s in their territory, why you’ve come, and what place you mean to take here. If you remain a mystery, suspicion will only fester. You don’t want that.”
I swallowed hard. My pulse thundered in my ears. The idea of standing before them—wolves who already looked at me as though I carried disease, wolves who believed me a liar or worse—was enough to chill me to the bone. My mind replayed every sideways glance, every wary shuffle, the way they had avoided me at breakfast like I was poison.
“They won’t accept me,” I whispered, almost to myself.
The beta’s eyes softened slightly, but only slightly. “Acceptance isn’t given freely. It’s earned. Hiding in this room will only make them doubt you more.” He tilted his head, studying me with the precision of someone used to judging strength in others. “You are their Alpha’s blood, whether they wish to believe it or not. That means you stand before them, no matter how they receive you.”
My throat tightened painfully. My first instinct was to refuse, to curl back into the small safety of the room and lock the door behind me. But some part of me—the part that had survived the court, the castle, the endless games of power—knew he was right.
Still, the fear gnawed at me. What if they rejected me outright? What if they saw me for the imposter they already believed me to be? What if the truth—that I was Samantha’s daughter, Eric’s stepdaughter—never reached them because they wouldn’t let me speak long enough?
The beta seemed to read the panic in my silence. He stepped closer, his presence filling the doorway, steady and immovable. “Do not show them fear,” he said, his voice deepening with quiet insistence. “You show fear, and they’ll tear into it. Stand tall, speak clear. That alone will make them pause.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to still the tremor in my hands. “why are you helping me” i asked, looking up at him, he did not seem to be hostile towards me, which i did not know if it was a good sign or bad sign
“Come,” he said finally, stepping back to give me room to leave. “They are waiting.”
And though my knees felt weak, though my chest was tight with dread, I found myself nodding. Because no matter how terrified I was, I knew this moment couldn’t be avoided.
I had to face them.
Even if it meant they would never accept me.
My hands trembled, and I buried my face against them, fighting the rising wave of panic.
How was I supposed to stand before an entire pack that wanted nothing to do with me? How was I supposed to speak when every time I opened my mouth, it seemed like people turned away or refused to hear me?
pressing down on me like stone, threatening to keep me on that floor forever.
But then another thought slipped in, quiet yet stubborn.
I was their Alpha’s blood.
I wasn’t sure if I even believed it most days, but the truth of it pulsed through me in ways I couldn’t ignore. Eric had been more than a title, more than a name. He had been strength, protection, a presence no one questioned. He had raised me in his way—even if much of it was from a distance, even if I had resented parts of it—and now he was gone. Dead. The least I could do was not let his name fall into shame.
I lifted my head, pressing my palms hard against my face before dragging them down slowly, trying to steady my breath.
Fear was already clawing at me, but the beta had been right: if I let them see it, they would devour me whole. Wolves respected strength, not excuses. I told myself over and over again, trying to steady myself

“Stand tall. Speak clear.” The beta’s words echoed in my mind, steadying me more than I wanted to admit.
I straightened my back in the mirror, raising my chin a little higher. My heart still thundered, but I forced myself to hold my own gaze. “You are not weak,” I whispered to my reflection, the words fragile but real. “You are not going to crumble. Not in front of them.”