Emotional Support Mirror

Chapter Two

Taydyn POV

For the first time in weeks…

Silence.

No pack meetings.

No council pressure.

No mother hovering like a well-dressed storm cloud.

No father’s quiet, disappointed looks that somehow say more than actual words ever could.

Just the low hum of his engine and the empty stretch of road cutting through the nearby town.

Taydyn Woodson leans back in the driver’s seat, one large hand draped loosely over the wheel, and lets himself breathe.

Finally.

Zey stirs faintly in the back of his mind — restless but calm for once, the massive brown-red wolf pacing slow, lazy circles.

“We should not be here,” Zey grumbles.

Taydyn exhales through his nose.

We’re at a gym, not committing treason.

“Still suspicious.”

Despite himself, Taydyn’s mouth twitches.

He hadn’t been able to slip away in weeks. Every time he tried, something dragged him back — pack disputes, patrol reports, his mother’s increasingly unsubtle comments about finding your mate already, Taydyn.

God.

He scrubs a hand down his face.

Just… one night.

One night to exist somewhere that didn’t expect him to be Alpha.

The last notes of the song drift through the car speakers — slow, heavy bass vibrating through the quiet cabin. Taydyn lets it play out, eyes half-lidded, soaking in the moment of peace.

Then the music fades.

Reality returns.

With a quiet sigh, he kills the engine and steps out into the sharp bite of the 3 a.m. air.

Cold hits his skin immediately, crisp and clean. His breath fogs faintly as he rolls his shoulders and heads toward the gym entrance.

Please let this be normal.

Please let this be boring.

Inside, the gym is mostly empty — just how he wanted it.

Dim overhead lights.

A few scattered night owls.

The soft rhythm of machines.

Perfect.

He approaches the front desk, already pulling his phone out to check in—

—and then it hits him.

The scent slams into his senses like a physical force.

Taydyn freezes mid-step.

Sea salt.

Amber.

Vanilla.

Warmth.

Calm.

Home.

His head snaps up.

And his eyes lock on her.

Behind the desk stands a tiny female — barely five feet — with a tumble of brown curls and soft brown eyes. She’s folding towels with calm, practiced movements, completely unaware that Taydyn’s entire world just tilted off its axis.

Inside his head—

Zey loses his absolute mind.

The massive wolf lunges forward, hackles raised, eyes blazing molten gold-green.

“MATE.”

The howl reverberates through Taydyn’s skull.

Everything in him goes rigid.

His heart forgets how to function properly.

Air becomes optional.

Because—

No.

No, no, no—

She looks up.

Their eyes meet.

And she smiles.

Soft. Polite. Easy.

Completely unaware she just detonated his nervous system.

“Hi,” she says gently. “Welcome in.”

Then — like she didn’t just ruin his entire life — she looks back down and resumes folding towels.

Taydyn.

Cannot.

Move.

“GO TO HER,” Zey demands, pacing violently now. “OURS.”

Absolutely not, Taydyn snaps back internally, panic rising fast.

She glances up again.

Their eyes meet a second time.

Panic detonates.

Taydyn does the only logical thing a future Alpha can do in this situation—

He turns in a deeply awkward half-circle…

…and bolts straight for the bathroom.

The cool tile hits him like a blessing.

Taydyn braces both hands on the sink inside the empty restroom, head hanging as he drags in a sharp breath.

His heart is racing.

His skin feels too tight.

And even in here—

He can still smell her.

Sea salt. Amber. Vanilla.

“Mate,” Zey repeats, deeply pleased now.

I heard you the first time.

Taydyn lifts his head slowly, staring at his reflection.

She didn’t react.

Didn’t scent him.

Didn’t even blink weird.

His brow furrows.

“…She doesn’t know.”

A pause.

Then slower—

“…Is she not a wolf?”

Zey goes very still.

Then, stubbornly:

“Wolf was there.”

Taydyn’s jaw tightens.

I didn’t smell it.

“I did.”

You smell everything, Taydyn shoots back.

“Because I am correct.”

Taydyn exhales sharply through his nose.

Great.

Fantastic.

His wolf was whining now.

“Go back to her,” Zey presses, restless again. “Mate is alone.”

We are not doing that, Taydyn counters immediately. She’ll think we’re insane.

“We are not insane.”

We just sprinted to the bathroom like a fugitive, Zey.

A beat.

“…Tactical retreat.”

Taydyn stares at the mirror.

His pulse is still pounding.

His chest feels tight.

Too full.

Too much.

“Go back, go back, go see, just be near, She is MATE!”

Zey was bouncing around in his head howling like a child begging for candy and he couldn’t think straight his thoughts weren’t coming together and it was just to-

SILENCE

His fist moves.

CRACK.

The mirror explodes under the force of the punch, spiderweb fractures racing across the glass.

Small pieces fell to the floor…

Then—

“…helllooo?”

Taydyn freezes.

Voice. Male. Outside the stall area.

He exhales slowly and steps out.

A short, wiry guy with dark hair is standing near the sinks, eyebrows raised but not particularly alarmed.

Great.

Fantastic.

Perfect first impression.

“Sorry,” Taydyn says, forcing his voice back under control. “I, uh… tripped.”

The guy stares at him.

Then snorts.

“Sure you did.”

Taydyn winces internally.

But instead of getting mad, the guy just waves a hand.

“Honestly? That mirror had it coming. I’ve been beefing with that thing for months.”

…What?

The guy suddenly brightens and points dramatically across the room.

“But this one?” he says, gesturing to a massive, well-lit mirror. “This is my emotional support mirror.”

He strikes a full flexing pose.

Biceps out. Chin tilted. Pure commitment.

“Look at that lighting. Respectful. Supportive. Encouraging.”

Against his will…

Taydyn huffs a quiet laugh.

The tension in his chest loosens just a fraction.

The guy grins sideways at him. “Name’s Nate.”

“Taydyn.”

Nate nods once, like he’s filed that away for later.

Then — still half flexing — he adds:

“Just, you know… try not to emotionally devastate this mirror too, big guy. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Despite everything swirling in his head…

Taydyn smirks.

“…I’ll do my best.”

Nate studies him for half a second longer, then gives a satisfied nod — like Taydyn has passed some invisible bro evaluation.

Good.

Not a threat.

Zey settles slightly.

Taydyn turns and heads for the door—

—and immediately looks toward the front desk.

His stomach drops.

Empty.

She’s gone.