"My rank…" Ravhiel said softly, his lips curling into a smile—but it was the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. Bitter. Hollow. A shape without warmth. Luna could feel something shift in the air between them. He hadn't expected the question. More than that—he hadn't wanted it.
Yet, perhaps out of obligation, or perhaps because of her unusual standing in the pack, he answered anyway.
"I am unranked."
His voice was calm. Too calm. As though he had said it so many times before that it had become just another fact to recite. But Luna blinked, stunned.
"You're unranked?" she echoed, as if maybe she had misheard.
Ravhiel nodded once, his gaze flickering away. "My Ignimark is… nonexistent. Since I got into this condition before I ever turned thirteen, my father decided not to mark me. In his eyes, I was no better than a human. A stain. Something to be hidden, pitied, or forgotten. I don't even count as an omega."
Luna's breath caught slightly.
