"Alina, are you out here again?"
Rina's voice cut through the stillness of the forest, but Alina remained silent, her gaze fixed on the clearing in front of her. This was her sanctuary, a small, secluded part of the woods where the noise of the pack and the constant feeling of rejection couldn't reach her. Here, surrounded by towering trees and the rustling leaves, she could let her guard down. She could breathe.
But even in this peaceful place, her thoughts were heavy. Today, they were focused on her father—Gregor Grey. His presence haunted her, not as a ghost, but as a memory she couldn't escape.
She could see him in her mind's eye, strong and towering like the trees around her. Gregor had always been larger than life, the kind of man everyone respected without question. As the pack's beta, he had been second only to the Alpha, a position of great honor and responsibility. Alina had spent her childhood in awe of him, wanting nothing more than to make him proud. But now, all she felt was the crushing weight of his absence—and the sense that she had failed him.
Alina pulled her knees to her chest, her fingers tracing the rough bark of the tree she leaned against. It was an old oak, one her father had once pointed out to her during one of their walks through the woods. He had loved this place as much as she did, finding solace in nature when the pressures of leadership weighed him down. He'd always told her that strength came from the earth, from the roots that held them steady, no matter how fierce the storms became.
But she wasn't strong. Not like he had been.
"I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. "I'm sorry I'm not strong like you."
The memory of his death flashed in her mind, sharp and painful. It had been years now, but the pain had never dulled. Gregor had died protecting the pack, defending them from a rogue attack that had come without warning. He had fought bravely, like the warrior he was, but even the strongest could fall. And when he did, Alina's world had crumbled with him.
She had been there, watching from a distance, powerless to stop it. She had been too weak, too scared, and too young to help. The guilt had stayed with her ever since. If she had been stronger, maybe things would have been different. Maybe her father would still be alive.
"Why didn't I do something?" she muttered to herself, her voice trembling with the weight of the unspoken blame. "Why couldn't I save him?"
The whispers in the pack after his death hadn't helped. Rumors had spread like wildfire—whispers that Gregor had been responsible for the attack, that he had somehow betrayed the pack. Alina had tried to fight the lies, but no one had listened. The pack had turned their backs on her and her family, and Alina had been left alone, isolated in a place that was supposed to be her home.
She pressed her palms into her eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay. Crying wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't bring her father back. But no matter how hard she tried, the grief never left her.
A rustling sound broke through her thoughts, and Rina appeared at the edge of the clearing, her expression softening when she saw Alina's hunched form. "I knew I'd find you here," Rina said, her voice gentler now. She approached slowly, sitting down beside Alina without waiting for an invitation.
For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sound the wind weaving through the trees. Rina didn't press her to speak, and for that, Alina was grateful.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rina spoke. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?"
Alina nodded, unable to form the words. She didn't need to explain. Rina knew her too well for that.
Rina sighed, leaning back against the tree. "You know, you're allowed to miss him. But you don't have to carry all of this on your shoulders. He wouldn't have wanted that."
"I just… I feel like I've let him down," Alina confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not strong like he was. I don't have his courage, his strength. I'm nothing."
"Don't say that." Rina's voice was firm, her eyes locking onto Alina's. "You are not nothing, Alina. You're Gregor Grey's daughter. That means something."
"But it doesn't feel like it," Alina muttered, bitterness creeping into her voice. "The pack treats me like I don't even exist. I'm an outcast. How can I ever live up to his legacy when I can't even find a place for myself?"
Rina was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing as she considered her words. "Your dad was a great man, Alina. But you're not him, and that's okay. You don't have to be exactly like him to make a difference. You have your own strengths, even if you don't see them yet."
Alina shook her head, her doubt overwhelming her. "I don't feel strong."
Rina sighed again, her tone softening. "Strength isn't always about fighting or being in charge. Sometimes, it's about surviving, even when everything is telling you to give up. And you've done that, Alina. You've survived. You're still here, despite everything."
Alina swallowed hard, her chest tight. She wanted to believe Rina, but the weight of her failures clung to her like a second skin. How could she be strong when all she had ever done was fail?
The clearing fell silent again, the wind carrying the scent of pine and earth through the air. Alina closed her eyes, letting the memories of her father wash over her. She could still hear his voice, deep and reassuring, telling her that everything would be okay. But it wasn't. Not anymore.
"I just… I wish he were here," Alina whispered, her voice breaking. "He always knew what to do."
Rina placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know, Alina. I know."
And for a moment, that was enough.