My Funeral Was Beautiful, Shame I Missed It

Elara's POV

I'm walking through the Silvercrest Pack community center just as the evening sun starts to dip below the horizon. There's a commotion ahead—a crowd of Pack members backing away from something, their faces tight with worry.

A seventeen-year-old boy is crouched in the center, trembling violently. His eyes are glowing red. First Shift failure. His wolf is trying to claw its way out, and he's losing control.

Someone mutters about getting the doctor. A mother pulls her kid behind her.

I step forward. "Hey. Look at me."

His breathing is ragged, almost hyperventilating. The red in his eyes flares brighter.

I start singing. It's an old lullaby, something Derek used to sing to me when I was little. Nothing fancy, just a simple melody that flows soft and steady like moonlight on water.

The boy's breathing slows. The red light in his eyes dims, then fades completely. He slumps to the ground and starts crying.

I crouch down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're okay now. First Shift fails for a lot of people. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

He looks up at me, tears streaming down his face, and I see the gratitude there.

The Pack members relax. A woman approaches and squeezes my hand. "Thank you, Elara. Your voice always has this way of calming people."

"It's not magic or anything," I say, smiling. "Just letting him know he's not alone."

The doctor arrives and takes over. I head out as the Pack's street lights flicker on, casting everything in warm amber. This is my favorite time of day—when everything settles down and families come together.

Tonight's family dinner is supposed to be special. Derek mentioned Father has a "big surprise" to announce. Maybe it's about formalizing the ceremony for Marcus and me? We're already promised mates. We just need to make it official.

I'm still thinking about it when I push through the front door.

"Father? I'm home!" I call out, heading toward the living room.

Father is standing by the fireplace. Derek is perched on the arm of the sofa. And there's a girl I've never seen before sitting in the center of the couch. She looks about my age, with long chestnut hair and large, doe-like eyes that are currently fixed on me with an expression I can't quite read. Nervous, maybe.

"Elara," Father says, and his voice catches. "Come meet your sister."

I freeze. "Sister?"

"This is Serena," Derek says, standing up. His expression is complicated. "Our biological sister. She's been found."

It takes me a few seconds to process. Then the memories come flooding back—the hospital mix-up eighteen years ago, the missing Alpha's daughter everyone thought was lost forever.

Serena is that child.

Which means I'm the one who took her place for eighteen years.

The guilt hits me like a physical blow. I've been living her life. Her father, her brother, her home. Everything that should have been hers.

"Oh my God," I rush forward and throw my arms around her. "Welcome home! I can't believe I finally have a sister!"

Serena goes stiff for a second before her arms come up to return the hug. It's light, tentative, like she's embracing a stranger.

I pull back, practically vibrating with excitement. "You must have so many stories! Where have you been living? Are you okay? If you need anything, just tell me. We're family!"

"Thank you," Serena says quietly.

Just those two words. No warmth behind them.

But I don't overthink it. She's probably overwhelmed. This has to be terrifying for her, walking into a completely unfamiliar place and being told these are her people.

"Serena has been living in Nightshade Pack," Father says carefully. "The conditions there were... less than ideal."

Less than ideal. That's putting it mildly. I can tell from the way Derek's jaw tightens that it was bad. Really bad.

I look at Serena more closely now. Her clothes are worn, almost threadbare. There are scars on her fingers. And there's this guardedness to her, like she's constantly braced for something terrible to happen.

My heart breaks.

She should have grown up here. Loved and protected and safe. Not wherever she was, suffering.

During dinner, Serena tells us about her past.

"They treated me like an Omega," she says softly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I lived in the basement. It was cold and damp. I was hungry a lot. They said I didn't deserve anything better."

Tears roll down my cheeks. Derek's fists clench on the table. Father's face goes hard as stone.

"Those days are over," Father says firmly. "You're home now."

"I don't want to be a burden," Serena says, her voice small. "I can stay in the guest room, or maybe—"

"Absolutely not!" The words burst out of me. "You should have the best room in the house. Mine faces south, gets amazing sunlight, and the view is beautiful. You should take it. I'll move to the guest room."

"Elara, you don't have to..." Serena starts, but I catch a flicker of something in her eyes. Hope, maybe.

"I insist," I say, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "You've been through hell. You deserve something good now."

Derek gives me an approving look. "That's my girl. Always thinking of others."

After dinner, I head upstairs to start packing up my things. Serena appears in my doorway, watching me gather my belongings.

"You're really kind to me, Elara," she says. Her tone is light, almost airy. "So very kind."

There's something in her voice I can't quite place. Something cold.

But I brush it off. She's probably still adjusting. I smile at her. "We're sisters. This is what family does. If you ever need anything, just ask."

Serena doesn't respond. She just stands there, watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes.