AMARA.
I stood at my window, gazing thoughtlessly at the clearing sky. The sun did not rise hastily, but it still rose regardless.
Why did the days I anticipated less come so damn quickly?
Yesterday, after the Alpha came by and left, I barely remembered how the rest of the day unfolded. I moved as usual. Breathed as usual. Existed.
But none of it felt real.
In Lucien's presence, my thoughts had been quiet—unnaturally quiet. As if nothing in the world could truly threaten me while he stood near. But the moment he left, the noise returned. Doubts. Worries. And memories I weren't mine.
He had promised nothing bad would happen.
He said he would be there by my side and that everything would be fine.
I trusted him.
I truly did.
But trust had never been enough to shield me from disaster.
My life had never been gentle. Whether by my own choices or some cruel twist of fate, I was always at the center of something dramatic. And since the night I first shifted… it had only grown worse.
My hands tightened around the wooden frame until my knuckles paled
I didn't want the night to fall.
I didn't want the moon to become full.
I didn't want to feel that surge again—that intoxicating rush of power, the bloodlust, the terrifying blur where instinct overpowered conscience.
I didn't want to lose myself.
A sudden gush of wind blew against my face, startling me. The air smelt different. It felt… different. It was heavier and felt somewhat exuberant. I could hear the exciment of the pack even from my room.
They were looking forward to tonight.
How could they?
Just then, underneath the stiff muscles in my skin, she stirred. Not entirely awake, but not asleep either. She was just there, lingering not too far from the surface—close enough to let me know that she was there.
I swallowed dryly and stepped away from the window to go back to my room—secretly in hope that it could serve as a steady cage when the time finally came.
On the small table at the center of the room sat the bottle Grandmother had pressed into my palm at dawn. She had left in a hurry after the Beta arrived with news of an impromptu meeting. Her expression had been grim—tight with something she didn't say.
I didn't know whether to associate that look with the bottle… or the meeting.
Perhaps both.
I picked it up reluctantly. The liquid inside was an unnatural shade of purple.
The moment I twisted the lid open, a sharp, bitter scent assaulted my senses.
Drink, my wolf encouraged all of a sudden.
"Don't push me," I spat back, nearly annoyed.
If she were to be in my shoes, would she readily consume a liquid with such odor and color?
Drink. She said again, completely ignoring my thoughts and my distress.
Hah.
I rolled my eyes, pinched my nose hard and poured the liquid into mouth. Half a second later, I almost spat it back out. Bitterness was a nicer way of describing the taste—if there was a sensation worse than bitter, then that would be exactly how I'd describe the substance inside my mouth.
Still, I swallowed. A slow warmth spread throughout my body soon after.
Well done. My wolf said, completely unlike herself, still, it felt good—to be commended for my little victory that is.
Amara.
I stiffened. She never said my name—not once since my first shift, not ever. And the tone with which she called me sounded diferent too, almost as if she was pleading.
I do not mean any harm. I want the best for you—the best for us.
A part of me didn't want to have that conversation. Because deep down, I knew—I knew that when it came to me she probabily didn't intend evil. But what about others?
I do not mean any harm to anyone around you either.
She said quickly after hearing my thoughts. But that response did not satisfy me.
You are afraid…afraid of me. She said in a tone that sounded somewhat hurt.
"I am not." I denied. Secretly hoping that would make her less hurt.
My words hung in the room for a while as we both took it in. I felt her easing up and so did I. Our feelings were connected—and I never understood that fact more clearly.
"I'm afraid of myself. Terrified of losing control," I finally confessed the truth I never dared to own up to.
And upon saying that out loud, several images flashed in my mind.
Mom's workplace. Our argument. The animals I hunted. And then, Davis.
You were overwhelmed. My wolf tried to coax me.
I shook my head immediately. "But I hurt him."
You stopped… it was your first shift, but you controlled instincts.
Her correction came softly, calmly… like a guardian of a sort.
Some of the guilt I had been carrying since that incident melted.
"Then, that wouldn't happen again?"
Not if you don't fight us…
Ah.
It still came down to giving control willingly. Still, it didn't sound like a threat. If anything, it sounded like caution. Like advice from someone who truly cared.
"I don't know if I can forgive myself if I hurt an innocent person again."
Don't reject me and we will be fine…We share one heart. One body. One will. When you push me away, we fracture. When you trust me, we balance.
"What about the Alpha? Is he safe…with me?"
Something warm settled in the depths of my chest, and in my veins.
Our Alpha. He is strong.
Our? The words sounded possessive—too possessive to be honest. But it didn't feel bad, rather, it felt right.
The fear that had gripped my heart since last night did not vanish. But it loosened just enough for me to breathe a little .
Then, the full moon no longer felt like the end of my life. Instead, it felt like a threshold—one that would usher me into something inevitable.
Somewhere deep within me, beneath the lingering anxiety and the weight of that unsettling memory, anticipation rose.
Not anticipation for blood.
Or for chaos.
But for the moment when instinct and control would finally meet…
And I would see whether I was strong enough to hold both.
———————————————————
Lucien.
"You can not make such a decision, Alpha. All newly awakened wolves need to shift in the pack house—and in the pack house alone," Elder Yva stated, her tone laced with suppressed disappointment.
"Can Not?" I echoed.
I had intended to not say anything ever since they called for an impromptu meeting. I knew their concerns and understood it equally. They knew a lot, especially of newly awakened wolves and the likes, because they had lived far longer than I have.
Still, they didn't know better—I did. When it came to my mate, they knew too little to dictate to me what I should allow and what not to.
I could feel their discontent and agitation through the pack bond, but I was and forever will put the safety and comfort of Amara above any of their emotions.
"I didn't mean for it sound like that…" Yva shrunk, but not so much as to completely back down. "Still," she lifted her eyes to meet my glaring ones. "The interest of the pack is what we have at heart as elders…You of all people should know this."
I huffed.
The interest of the pack she said, but I knew that did not include Amara. If anything, the only reason why they wanted Amara here at the pack house tonight was to embarrass her.
She was unstable—they knew that. And must have heard of her inability to fully shift from the young wolves who witnessed that incident some days ago. They only desired to shame her as Zora's granddaughter.
And I would never allow that.
"Besides," Elder Velma's slippery voice glided down my spine.
A small chill settled in my chest, before I could shake the feeling off—
"You have found your mate, why must to spend tonight with anyone but her?"
A deathly silence descended upon the room. No one moved. No one blinked. And no one spoke. Including me, it was as if we were all allowing the statement to settle.
After a moment, I turned to Velma whose expression gave not the slightest of fear despite the death glare she received from me.
"Velma," my voice came out in spiky frosts.
The rooms temperature dropped to a degree so fatal that if anyone dared to push my buttons at that moment, they would face dire consequences.
"Do I look like a fool to you?" My voice thundered.
The question stunned her, because it was the first time I had seen her look so taken back. However, she soon regained her composure.
She rose from her seat and bowed as low as her rigid waist could permit. "My Alpha, I could never…Please pardon me for I have misspoken."
Her apology sounded sincere, but I knew all to well that they were mere words she spoke to appease the atmosphere.
She had no regrets. The doubts she sought to sow in the hearts of the other elders, she had done exactly that.
Not that they didn't already know that I had found my mate—they definitely knew. My elders were not unwise. Still, most had not considered Amara being their future Luna. I wasn't too sure who they might have had in mind, but it wasn't her.
With Velma's question however, some should have pick up the clue.
I wept my eyes over the room, some elders cowered at the flare in my emotions. Some were still in shock that Velma had raised that topic they had unspokenly decided upon raising until I told them.
And then there were others, like Yva, Madrin and a couple of others whose eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets.
They had put the pieces together—that was exactly what Velma wanted to achieve.
Zora's fury was second only to mine at the turn of events. She sat, glaring daggers at Velma for what she had done. Yet, she said nothing —how could she if it would confirm what the sly fox had said.
"This meeting is adjourned. I will let Amara stay with me when she shifts."
With that, I walked out of the council room.
From there I left the pack house, not looking back even once as I headed for my own house. I needed to prepare myself for the full moon—I needed to prepare myself for her.
In spite of my terrible mood, the mere thoughts of her eased my anger by several degrees. Nothing else mattered but her.
I couldn't wait for night to fall. I couldn't wait to see her—to run along side her. I couldn't wait for us to spend our first full moon with each other.