Chapter 3 — The Meeting
Sleepless nights and scattered thoughts. That was all Amber had as she lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if the painted plaster could somehow provide her with the answers she'd been searching for.
Her body was still, but her mind raced like a storm—thoughts colliding, breaking apart, and reforming in an endless loop. She turned to her side, then to the other, pulling the blanket up only to kick it away seconds later.
"This is insane…" she muttered under her breath, the sound barely above a whisper. "I never imagined I'd end up meeting that arrogant Alpha—much less live under the same roof with him."
Her lips curled into a bitter line at the memory of their last encounter. The way he had looked at her—sharp, assessing, as if he were trying to decide if she was worth his time—made her chest burn with irritation.
Amber pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, willing the thought away.
No, don't think about him. Not now.
The room was quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock on her desk. For a while, she simply lay there in the stillness, until suddenly she sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist. She threw her hands into the air, fingers fluttering like she was conducting some invisible orchestra.
"Alright, alright… for my co-workers' sake, and to save Luna Café… I'll do it," she announced to the empty room, her voice dripping with reluctant resolve. "I'll agree to what they want. Besides, it's only temporary. Just for a little while."
She crossed her fingers, almost as if making a secret pact with herself, and nodded. It was the kind of nod one gave when they were trying to convince themselves something terrible wasn't actually that bad.
But the truth was, she hated the idea.
Her chest tightened. She had always valued her freedom, the little sanctuary she had built for herself. Now it was being ripped away, and she was expected to smile about it.
"What will happen to me there?" she whispered to no one in particular. "How am I even supposed to look him in the eye? Damn that rude Alpha."
The words left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, letting her bare feet touch the cool wooden floor. Something about the chill grounded her, made her feel less trapped in her own head. Drawn by a restless pull, she walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside.
The night outside was calm, but not silent. The hum of the forest beyond the village was faint but constant—leaves shifting in the breeze, the occasional rustle of some nocturnal creature. Above it all, the moon sat in its place like a watchful guardian, its silver glow spilling across the world.
Her eyes softened despite herself. The moon had always reminded her of home—of her mother.
She could still remember it as vividly as if it had happened yesterday: a warm September night, the air tinged with the scent of baking bread and peppermint. The rhythmic sound of dough being kneaded filled the small kitchen. She had been sitting at the counter, chin resting on her palm, watching her mother's hands move with effortless grace.
Her mother, Luna, had glanced up at her, a gentle yet knowing smile touching her lips.
"Amber, I need to go somewhere," she had said, voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of something Amber didn't recognize then.
"Where are you going?" Amber had asked, curious.
"Just something I need to take care of," her mother replied, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Amber had opened her mouth to ask more, but before she could, her mother stepped back from the counter and shifted. The transformation was seamless—bones lengthening, fur sprouting, posture dropping low until a magnificent wolf stood where a woman had been moments before.
Amber had always found the sight mesmerizing, but that night… something felt different.
She remembered the graceful leap her mother took, landing softly on the ground outside. The moonlight caught in her fur, making her look almost otherworldly. And then—without hesitation—her mother disappeared into the night, the peppermint scent lingering in her wake.
That was the last time Amber saw her.
Her mother had not been just any wolf. Luna was part of Canis—a global elite of hunter wolves, feared and respected in equal measure. She carried the rare gift of foresight, her visions said to have changed the outcomes of entire wars. She had been celebrated as the continent's first female Hunter-Gatherer.
And yet… she vanished without a trace.
Amber's gaze dropped, her fingers gripping the windowsill as the cold wind slipped into the room, curling around her shoulders. She hugged herself tightly, trying to keep the memories from swallowing her whole.
Knock. Knock.
The sound jarred her from her thoughts.
The door creaked open without waiting for an answer.
"What are you doing here?" Amber asked sharply as her stepmother stepped inside.
Liza Conri's lips curved into a victorious smirk that Amber immediately distrusted.
"Pack your things. Bri will pick you up before sunrise," Liza announced, her tone infuriatingly casual.
Amber blinked. "What? Tomorrow!? I haven't even had a chance to say goodbye to my staff at Luna Café!"
"You're being dramatic," Liza replied with a scoff. "You'll see them again. This isn't forever. Don't be so sentimental."
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor fading down the hallway.
Amber stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. Every part of her wanted to shout, to hurl the truth into Liza's face, to tear down whatever smug wall she always seemed to hide behind.
But she didn't.
Instead, she swallowed the rage until it burned like fire in her chest.
Her eyes began to sting—not from tears, but from the heat that was building within her.
Her vision tinged red.
Her breath came faster, harsher.
The muscles in her arms and legs tightened as if ready for battle. Her claws pushed through her fingertips, and the familiar prickle of fur spreading over her skin followed. Her body shifted without her willing it.
The transformation was raw, unrestrained.
Amber didn't stop to think. She sprinted to the window, leapt through it in one smooth motion, and landed hard against the earth outside.
The night air was sharp against her fur as she bolted into the forest. Branches clawed at her, scraping against skin and tearing tufts of fur, but she didn't slow down. The sting of the cuts was nothing compared to the weight inside her.
She pushed herself harder, the world around her becoming a blur of shadow and silver light.
She ran until the ground sloped upward beneath her paws, the hillside drawing her higher and higher. Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her heart pounded, not from the run, but from everything she had kept bottled for far too long.
At the crest of the hill, she stopped.
The forest stretched endlessly below, the moon casting a pale glow over the treetops. For a moment, it almost looked peaceful. But Amber knew better.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her mind churned with memories she wished she could erase—moments where she had been too slow, too powerless, too… late.
Her throat tightened.
Tilting her head back, she let out a long, unrestrained howl.
It tore from her chest, sharp and aching, echoing across the valley.
It was not just a sound—it was a confession, a plea, and a curse all at once.
When the final note faded into the night, Amber stood trembling, her legs suddenly weak. She sank to the ground, lying in the cool grass.
The world felt quiet again. Too quiet.
But she was not alone.
From the shadows, a tall figure stood hidden behind a fallen log, his body still as stone. His sapphire eyes glimmered under the moonlight, focused entirely on her.
Zach.
He had been there the whole time, watching silently. He had heard her howl, felt the weight of her grief as if it were his own.
For most, his gift of reading minds was an advantage. But tonight… it was a curse.
Because this pain—this raw, unfiltered pain—belonged to his mate.
His fingers curled slightly at his sides as he fought the urge to go to her. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, drawing on his other gift—the ability to weave thoughts into the minds of others.
But he did not intrude.
He only wrapped her mind in warmth, like a blanket on a cold night. A psychic embrace, invisible but real.
A silent vow.
He would not let her break.
Not tonight.
Not ever.