CHAPTER 4

My wolf had shredded my clothes to ribbons during my shift, leaving me no choice but to sprint home naked through the cool forest.

The house was silent when I arrived; the pack was still out on their run. Relief washed over me as I slipped inside, my heart pounding from the night's events.

 I drew a warm bath, hoping to soothe both my aching body and my frayed nerves. As the water cascaded over me, my emotions spilled over too. 

Uncontrollable sobs wracked my chest as I replayed the events of the night—the rejection, the disgust in Derek's eyes. The dream of a mate who would cherish me, love me for who I was, shattered like glass underfoot.

Tears blurred my vision as I whispered my frustrations to the Moon Goddess. “Why?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Why him? Why not someone else—someone who could see me, accept me for what I am?”

Growing up, I’d always fantasized about having a mate who would look past my imperfections, someone who wouldn’t care that I was weak, that I didn’t fit the mold of the pack’s strong and graceful females.

I never wanted to be a Luna, to shoulder the weight of leading a pack. I just wanted a quiet, simple life. 

The irony of being mated to Derek, the next Alpha—the most desired male in the pack—was cruel. 

Selene, the Beta's daughter, had spent years spreading rumors that she was Derek's mate, only to be proven wrong when they shifted at eighteen. Yet she clung to the idea, as though defying fate itself.

But Derek? He made it clear last night that fate had done him no favors. His hatred and anger burned brighter than anything I’d ever seen, worse even than the cold disdain I endured from my family. 

 I stayed under the water until my strength ebbed away, my body too exhausted to cry anymore.

Dragging myself out of the tub, I wrapped a towel around me and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

I stared at the girl before me: short, round, soft. My hips were narrow, my arms lacking the muscle that every other female in the pack seemed to flaunt effortlessly.

Training was out of the question—I was too weak to keep up. Blake had tried once or twice, but my frail body betrayed me every time.

 For a fleeting moment, I thought about leaving this world entirely, joining the humans where my appearance and abilities might go unnoticed.

As I examined myself, a shadow darted past behind me, startling me out of my thoughts. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned, but the tears that had stained my vision earlier made everything blurry.

I blinked rapidly, my senses on high alert. There, just outside my open window, was a familiar figure.

Derek.

My breath caught, my body trembling. Why was he here, How long had he been watching .

The unspoken rules of werewolf life meant that windows were left open—our heightened senses made locked doors and closed windows unnecessary. But now, with him outside, climbing closer, my vulnerability was laid bare.

Before I could act, noises from outside distracted me. I turned toward the door, and when I glanced back at the window, Derek was gone.

 A whirlwind of questions consumed me. Why had he come, What could he possibly want after rejecting me so cruelly, i thought 

The sound of the pack returning jolted me into action. I threw on clothes in a rush, desperate to avoid Blake’s probing questions about my run. 

Jumping into bed, I feigned sleep as footsteps approached. Blake knocked softly but, seeing me “asleep,” left without a word.

Sleep, however, was not kind. When I closed my eyes, a vivid dream took hold. 

My white wolf tore through a dark, endless forest, my paws kicking up dirt and leaves as I ran. The air was heavy, laden with an unnatural silence, broken only by my rapid breaths and the sinister whispers closing in behind me. 

I didn’t need to look back to know they were there—two shadowy figures, their forms amorphous and shifting like smoke, gaining on me with each step. 

Their voices slithered through the air, chilling to the bone. “It was never yours to start with…” one of them hissed, the words slicing through the silence like a blade.

My heart pounded in my chest as I pushed myself to run faster, but the ground beneath me seemed to pull me back, my legs feeling heavier with each step. 

The shadows closed the distance, their presence suffocating, their laughter echoing in my ears. One of them reached out with an elongated arm, its hand formed of writhing smoke, reaching for my chest. I stumbled, my wolf snarling, but the figures were too close.

“You cannot escape,” the other whispered, its voice cold and venomous. “You were never meant to have it.” 

Just as I braced myself for their touch, a blinding light pierced through the darkness, and the figures hissed in fury. A third figure appeared ahead of me, standing tall, their form bathed in a golden aura. 

I couldn’t make out their face—only their presence, which radiated strength and protection.

The shadowy figures recoiled, their forms retreating like smoke blown by the wind. “You will not take it from her,” the golden figure said, their voice calm but commanding. 

The shadows shrieked, dissolving into the void, leaving only silence behind.

I woke in a cold sweat, my heart racing. The dream lingered, vivid and haunting. My wolf whispered that it was a sign, a warning—or perhaps a prophecy. 

Werewolf lore spoke of dreamers, rare wolves with the ability to glimpse the future. But I couldn’t believe it. 

How could someone like me—weak, unwanted—carry such a gift? And yet, the dream returned each time I closed my eyes, repeating itself until I was too afraid to sleep.

Unable to sleep, I lay staring at the ceiling until dawn broke.. 

By morning, my swollen eyes had subsided, but the heaviness in my chest remained. I forced myself into the kitchen, preparing breakfast as the household stirred awake. 

The smell of food brought everyone downstairs, their chatter unusually cheerful. My father hummed, my mother smiled, and my siblings laughed—except for Blake, who watched me with quiet concern.

Cooking and serving the family kept me indoors, away from the pack’s prying eyes and cruel whispers.

To deflect his concern, I asked casually, “How was the run last night?”

To my surprise, it was my mother who answered first. “Wonderful news,” she said, her tone light for the first time in years. “Joshua found his mate, Andrea. Such a lovely girl from a respected family.”

Joshua’s grin stretched from ear to ear as my mother gushed about Andrea’s virtues, how she’d been a quiet helper in her household but joined the run last night and met her destiny.

 “Finally, a hint of good news after so long,” my mother said, her eyes flicking toward me with veiled disdain .

Her words cut deeper than any knife, but I swallowed my pain. Blake, however, wasn’t fooled. After breakfast, he cornered me in the kitch

en, his eyes searching mine. “What happened last night?” he asked, his voice low and firm.