The next few days passed like gentle waves—soft but steady.
Calla tried to distract herself with daily chores. She helped the healers sort herbs, carried baskets of vegetables to the storage room, and swept the dusty corners of the supply shed. But her thoughts always drifted back to the same thing.
The ring.
The glow she had seen wasn't her imagination. She was sure of it now.
Every time she removed the ring, even for a second, a strange ache settled in her chest. Not pain—but emptiness. The ring wasn't just jewelry. It was part of her.
She sat in her bedroom that night, listening to the sounds outside. Wolves howled in the distance—scouts changing shifts, warriors calling to one another from the border. The noise was familiar, comforting. But Calla's heart beat a little faster when she heard the deeper, commanding howl among them.
It was Darien's.
Her wolf stirred.
Why do I feel something? she whispered.
The voice inside her didn't answer. It only shifted, as if sensing something that hadn't arrived yet.
---
Across the village, inside the Alpha mansion, Darien stood by a map stretched over a long oak table. Kael, his Beta, pointed at a corner of the territory near the east trail.
"That's where the last rogue scent was caught. We need to rotate patrols through this area more often," Kael said.
Darien nodded, but his eyes were elsewhere. Through the tall windows behind him, the village flickered with the soft yellow glow of lanterns.
He should've been focused. But something kept tugging at the edge of his awareness. His wolf paced again, frustrated and restless.
"She's close," the wolf said, low and sure.
Darien clenched his jaw. "Stop saying that. I haven't felt anything."
Because she's not awake yet.
Darien closed his eyes for a second. These thoughts, these instincts—they were unlike anything he had felt before. Not even the bond with his late parents had carried this strange tension.
And still, no scent. No spark. No clear mate bond.
Just… something missing.
---
The next morning, Calla was sent to deliver supplies to the training grounds. She didn't go there often. Most omegas stayed out of the warriors' way. But the healer she worked for was trusted, so she was allowed to drop off small deliveries.
She carried a wooden crate of cloth bandages, salves, and potion vials down the path. The training area was open, surrounded by trees, with thick logs used for combat drills and sparring mats spread across the grass. Warriors trained shirtless in the early sun, sweat glistening on their backs.
Calla kept her head down, clutching the crate tightly.
"Over here!" a young female warrior called out kindly, pointing to a shaded table.
Calla placed the crate down, gave a small nod, and turned to leave. But her eyes caught movement near the far edge of the training field.
Darien.
He was there, standing with Kael and another elder. His presence was like a wave of silence. Even the other warriors seemed more focused when he was near.
Darien was dressed in a dark shirt and training pants, sleeves rolled up. The muscles in his arms tensed with each motion. He wasn't just strong—he moved like someone who had been trained since birth.
And yet…
He paused suddenly, turning his head ever so slightly, as if sensing something. His eyes flicked toward the trees.
Calla didn't wait. She turned around and walked quickly back toward the village path.
Behind her, Darien frowned.
His wolf growled softly.
She was here. Again.
Darien narrowed his eyes. He didn't recognize her. Just a figure in a brown cloak, head down, moving quickly.
But that pull—that strange flicker of something he couldn't name—it returned. Faint. Hollow. Yet present.
He said nothing to Kael.
Not yet.
---
That night, Calla dreamed again.
She was standing in a forest of silver trees, moonlight pouring down through the leaves. A voice echoed around her—soft, female, ancient.
"Your time is not yet. But you were chosen, child of two paths. When the blood moon rises, you will burn and awaken."
Calla opened her mouth to ask something—anything—but the trees around her shook with a loud rumble. A sound like thunder cracked through the forest.
And the ring on her finger burned red.
She woke up gasping.
Her hand was glowing again, faintly.
She stared at the ring, then whispered, "What are you?"
Her wolf finally answered.
Ours.
But what did that mean?