CHAPTER TWO

(Aya’s POV)

I stumbled into my room, barely managing to shut the door before my legs gave out under me. My back hit the wood with a small thud, and I slid to the floor, burying my face in my hands. The laughter of my stepmother and Jolene still sounded in my ears, like a cruel sound meant to remind me of my place.

A broken sob escaped my lips. No matter how much I tried to compose myself against their words, against their cruelty, it still hurt. Every day felt like a fresh wound, one that never had the chance to heal. I dug my fingers into the fabric of my worn dress, my nails pressing into my palms as if the slight sting could distract me from the deep ache in my chest.

But then—something changed.

A scent.

It was faint at first, but undeniably there. A mix of lemon and something darker, something rich and intoxicating, like the first rain after a long dry season. It didn’t belong to the pack members who normally roamed the pack house. No, this was different. Foreign.

I froze, my breath hitching.

Someone was in my room.

I wiped at my tears quickly, my heart hammering in my chest as I forced myself to stand. My hands moved instinctively, reaching for the small dagger I kept hidden beneath my mattress. It wasn’t much, but it was sharp enough to do damage if I aimed at the perpetrator rightly. 

I took a slow, calculated step forward, my fingers gripping the dagger tightly. “Who’s there?” My voice came out steadier than I expected.

Silence.

Then, a voice, smooth yet powerful, filled the space. “I’m impressed.”

I turned toward the sound, and that was when I saw him.

A man—no, a werewolf—stood by the window, his arms crossed casually over his chest. His tall, imposing frame was highlighted by the way the dim moonlight cast beautifully shadows on his sharp features. Dark eyes studied me with an intensity that made my skin prickle, and his lips curled into the ghost of a smirk.

I tightened my grip on the dagger, the metal digging into my palm as I narrowed my eyes to slits. The dim light of the room seemed to fade away, into the background as I focused on the stranger, my senses on alert.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice low and even. "How did you get in here?" I took a step forward, the dagger ready to strike at any time, my heart pounding in my chest.

The stranger didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly to one side, as if considering how to answer my questions. His eyes never left mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as I met his gaze.

"I could ask you the same thing," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "You're not supposed to be here, are you? Not like this." He paused, his eyes brightened with a hint of amusement. 

I stiffened. I had spent years being invisible, being nothing more than a shadow in my own home. And yet, in mere seconds, this stranger had seen right through me.

“Answer the question,” I bit out. “Before I make you regret sneaking in here.”

His smirk deepened, amusement flashing in his dark gaze. “You’re fierce,” he mused. “I like that.”

I took a step closer, the dagger positioned in front of me. “I don’t have time for games.”

He exhaled, the smirk fading slightly. “Fine. My name is Malakai Forbes. Alpha of the Eclipse Pack.”

The dagger nearly slipped from my fingers.

Alpha.

The realization struck like lightning. Malakai Forbes—the name wasn’t unfamiliar. I had heard it whispered before, spoken in hushed tones by pack members whenever news of neighboring alphas reached us in this packhouse. He was powerful, a leader feared and respected in many measures.

But what was he doing here?

As if reading my thoughts, he took a slow step toward me. “I was at the Alpha’s meeting,” he said, his voice lower now. “And then I caught a scent.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “A scent?”

His gaze darkened, pinning me in place. “My mate’s scent.”

My heart stopped.

I tensed. I swallowed hard, struggling to keep my expression neutral even as my pulse raced. This cant be possible. Mate?

Mate.

I had dreamed of this moment. Every wolf did. But in my case, it had always felt impossible—like a cruel joke played by fate. I wasn’t supposed to have a mate. Not someone like him.

Not someone so… powerful.

“You’re wrong,” I blurted, shaking my head. “I don’t even have a wolf. I—I can’t be—”

“You are.” His voice was firm, absolute. “You may not have shifted, but that doesn’t change what you are to me.”

I stared at him, my breath small. “You don’t even know me.”

A small chuckle escaped through his chest. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” He leaned slightly closer, his scent enveloping me. “To know you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words never came. Because deep down, beneath all my doubt and disbelief, a part of me wanted to believe him.

A part of me knew he was telling the truth.

Silence stretched between us before he finally spoke again. “What’s your name?”

“…Aya.”

Malakai nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Aya.” He said it like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue, like it was something he wanted to memorize and cherish.

I should have told him to leave. Should have pushed him away, told him he was mistaken. But instead, I found myself standing there, gripping my dagger with less certainty than before.

Because for the first time in years, someone had looked at me like I mattered.

"Nice to meet you, mate." He said, with a smirk on.