KUBUAT MADUKU GENDUT

“What you’re feeling right now is a childish infatuation, kiddo. Don’t worry, you’ll grow past it.”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached, as those words which had broken my heart seven years ago echoed through my mind for the hundredth time since I came home.

Grow past it my ass.

It’s been seven years.

Seven years since Gabriel had crushed my eighteen-year-old heart with those words, and here I was—still completely, pathetically, hopelessly in love with him. If anything, the years apart had made it worse.

I had tried… so hard in college to make this aching for him go away. I went on different dates, flirted with different men, but none of them were him.

None of them would ever be him.

My bedroom door burst open, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Amara!” Mom practically flew across the room, and wrapped me in a bear-tight hug. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy you’re finally home. For good this time. And graduated! My baby graduated! Can you believe it?”

“Your mother’s been up all night cooking,” Dad said from the doorway, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And I mean all night. I woke up at three in the morning to find her elbow-deep in dough, humming show tunes.”

“They were not show tunes,” Mom protested, finally pulling back from the hug she’d trapped me in. “They were classics. Frank Sinatra. There’s a huge difference.”

“You were humming ‘Memory’ from Cats, honey.”

“That’s… that’s beside the point.” Mom’s cheeks flushed pink, but she was already fussing with my hair, smoothing it down like I was five years old again. “The point is, my baby’s home, and look at her—she’s practically wasting away to nothing. They don’t feed you properly at that university, do they? All that processed junk food and ramen noodles…”

“Mom, I’m fine.” I caught her hands gently, stepping back before she could start pinching my cheeks. “I promise I ate real food. Vegetables and everything. You’re overreacting.”

“A mother never overreacts when it comes to her child’s well-being.” She squeezed my fingers. “We’ve missed you so much. The house has been so quiet without you.”

“Too quiet,” Dad agreed, moving into the room properly now. He settled against my dresser, arms crossed. “Which is why we’re having a proper celebration tonight. And guess what? Gabriel’s coming for dinner.”

My heart stopped. Just completely stopped beating for a full three seconds.

“Alpha Gabriel,” I said carefully, like I needed the clarification. Like there was any other Gabriel who mattered.

“Who else would I be talking about?” Dad’s grin widened. “He’s been asking about you for weeks. Wanted to know exactly when you’d be back, what time your graduation ceremony was, whether you’d passed all your finals with honors.”

“Did you tell him I did?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

“Of course I did. Bragged about it, actually. My daughter, top of her class. He said he always knew you were brilliant.”

My treacherous heart did a little flip at that. “He said that?”

“Word for word.” Mom smiled, oblivious to the way my pulse had kicked into overdrive. “He’s bringing that fancy wine he’s been saving. The one from that vineyard in Napa. He said only the best for our graduate.”

I managed a nod, but inside, my thoughts were spiraling. I didn’t know I’d be facing him so soon. I’d had plans—vague, half-formed plans about taking a few days to settle in, to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for seeing him again. To build up the armor I’d need to survive being in the same room with him without my feelings written all over my face.

But I wouldn’t turn down the chance to see him. I couldn’t. Not when I’d spent four years counting down to this moment.

“That’s… that’s great,” I managed, hoping my voice sounded normal. “What time?”

“Seven sharp,” Dad said. “You know how Gabriel is about punctuality. Remember that time he showed up for your sixteenth birthday party exactly at noon? Not 12:01, not 11:59—”

“Noon on the dot,” I finished, the memory surfacing unbidden. He’d been wearing a dark blue shirt that had made his eyes look like thunderclouds, and he’d brought me a first edition copy of my favorite book.

I still had it. Still slept with it on my nightstand every night.

Mom kissed my forehead. “Wear something nice, sweetheart. This is a special occasion.”

“How nice are we talking?” I asked, but I already knew exactly what I was going to wear. “Like Sunday dinner nice or…”

“Special occasion nice. This is my daughter’s graduation celebration. I want you to look beautiful.”

“She always looks beautiful,” Dad interjected.

“You know what I mean, honey.” Mom swatted his arm affectionately. “Now shoo. Let her get ready. We don’t have much time.”

“Don’t be late,” Dad added with a wink as they headed toward the door. “You know your mother will have both our heads if we keep the food waiting.”

“And Gabriel hates when the roast gets dry,” Mom called over her shoulder.

They left, pulling the door closed behind them, and I finally let myself sink onto the edge of my bed. My hands were shaking. Actually shaking.

Gabriel.

Alpha Gabriel.

My father’s best friend, the man who’d been a constant presence in my life since before I could remember.

The man who’d taught me how to ride a bike, who’d scared off my first boyfriend with nothing but a look, who’d given the speech at my high school graduation about being proud of the woman I was becoming.

The man I’d been desperately, achingly in love with since I was fifteen years old.

I stood and walked to my closet, fingers trailing over hangers until I found what I was looking for.

The black dress.

I’d bought it six months ago during a shopping trip with my roommate, who’d whistled low when I’d stepped out of the dressing room.

“Girl, whoever you’re planning to wear that for doesn’t stand a chance,” she’d said.

I’d thought about Gabriel the entire time I was buying it.

The fabric was expensive, some kind of blend that clung in all the right places without looking cheap. The neckline plunged in a deep V that stopped just short of scandalous, exposing a good part of my breast, and the hem hit high on my thighs… not obscene, but definitely attention-grabbing.

I slipped it on and studied myself in the full-length mirror.

Seven years ago, when I’d confessed my feelings, I’d been a girl. Earnest and naive, spilling my heart out with tears streaming down my face, begging him to give me a chance.

I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I’d filled out in college—my body finally catching up to my age, curves appearing where there’d been angles. My hair was longer now, falling past my shoulders in waves I’d learned to style. I’d learned how to do makeup that enhanced instead of overwhelmed, how to dress in ways that made people look twice.

I touched up my lipstick—a deep red that made my lips look fuller—and headed downstairs, each step measured and deliberate. I could hear voices in the living room, the low rumble of male conversation mixing with my mother’s lighter tones.

“—told you she’d be fine,” Dad was saying. “She’s always been independent.”

“Independent is one thing,” Gabriel’s voice responded, and I froze on the stairs. “But four years is a long time. I worried about her.”

“You worry about everyone,” Mom said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s what makes you a good Alpha.”

“It’s what makes me go gray prematurely,” Gabriel countered, and they all laughed.

I forced myself to keep moving, and then I turned the corner into the living room.

Gabriel stood by the window, backlit by the golden early evening sun, and my breath caught in my throat.

God, he was still the most devastatingly beautiful man I’d ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that looked perpetually tousled. The late sunlight caught the silver threading through the black at his temples—new since I’d last seen him.

He was dressed casually—dark jeans and a black henley that stretched across his chest in ways that should be illegal.

He turned as I descended the last few steps, and those storm-gray eyes locked onto mine.

For a heartbeat, something flickered across his face—something I couldn’t quite name. His gaze dropped, tracking down the length of my body in the black dress, and I swore I saw his jaw tighten.

Then that familiar grin spread across his face.

“Amara!”

He crossed the room in three long strides and swept me up before I could protest, spinning me around with that deep, rumbling laugh that I felt vibrating through my entire body.

“I’ve missed you, kiddo,” he said, setting me down but keeping his hands on my waist for a moment longer than necessary.

The word—kiddo—landed like a slap.

But I was pressed against his chest, breathing in the scent of him—cedar and rain and something wild that was purely wolf—and God, I’d missed him. I’d missed him more than was legally possible… so much that every night I dreamt of him, fantasized about him.

I pulled back and rolled my eyes, channeling every ounce of attitude I could muster, “You can’t keep carrying me around like that, Gabriel. I’m a woman now, not a baby you can just toss in the air.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he teased, that infuriating grin still in place. “You’re still the same height you were at eighteen.”

“I grew an inch and a half, thank you very much.”

“An inch and a half,” he repeated, his eyes dancing with amusement. “My mistake. Clearly you’re a giant now.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know.” His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture so gentle it made my chest ache. “But seriously, look at you. All grown up and graduated. Your dad tells me you finished top of your class.”

“Summa cum laude,” I said, trying not to lean into his touch.

“That’s my girl.” Pride colored his voice, and I grinned. “I knew you’d do amazing things. You always were the smartest person in any room.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Alpha.”

“Who says I’m trying to get somewhere?” He was still smiling, still looking at me with that fond, affectionate expression that made me want to scream. “You’ll always be my precious little princess, sweetheart. That’s never going to change.”

The words drove a spike straight through my heart.

Still. He still saw me as a little girl.

“Gabriel, I’m twenty-five…”

“Come on, you two!” Mom’s voice rang out from the dining room, cutting off whatever protest I’d been about to make. “Everything’s ready, and I won’t have my hard work getting cold because you’re too busy catching up!”

Gabriel’s hand settled on the small of my back, warm even through the thin fabric of my dress, and he guided me toward the dining room. “We’d better go before your mother comes out here with a wooden spoon.”

“She wouldn’t…”

“She absolutely would,” Dad called from somewhere behind us. “I’ve seen her do it.”

The dining room table was laden with food—all my favorites. Pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, fresh bread that was still steaming.

We took our seats—Gabriel across from me, my parents at either end of the table. I could feel his eyes on me as I settled into my chair, and when I glanced up, he was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“This looks incredible, Mrs. Hart,” Gabriel said, his attention shifting to my mother. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Oh, stop,” Mom said, but she was beaming. “It’s nothing special.”

“It’s Amara’s favorites,” Dad corrected. “Every single dish.”

“Because she deserves it.” Mom reached over to squeeze my hand. “My brilliant daughter.”

“Mom—”

“Let her brag,” Gabriel said, his voice warm. “You earned it. Four years of hard work, and you came out on top. That’s worth celebrating.”

Dad raised his wine glass, the crystal catching the candlelight. “Actually, speaking of celebrating—your mother and I have a special announcement to make.”

My stomach dropped. Something in his tone—too cheerful, too forced—set off alarm bells in my head.

“An announcement?” I set my fork down carefully.

“A good one,” Mom assured me, but she wasn’t quite meeting my eyes.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed, that easy grin still in place. “Ah, right. I almost forgot. This is exciting news, Amara. Really exciting.”

“What is this news?”

“Well,” Dad started, exchanging a glance with Gabriel, “you know how important pack alliances are. How important it is to strengthen bonds between families—”

“Dad, what did you do?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “Your father and I have been discussing this for months now. We think it’s the perfect arrangement.”

“What arrangement?”

“A marriage,” Gabriel said simply, like he was discussing the weather. “Between you and my nephew, Marcus. You remember Marcus, don’t you? He’s your age, just finished his Alpha training last month. Strong, capable, good bloodline… and a very suitable option for you.”