Medina River Pack: Fated Mate

Yesnia Amador—nicknamed Yessy, or Jesse in English—woke up as she usually did. Her life was defined by routine: wake up, shower, and grab a quick breakfast before heading to her classes at the community college.

Aging out of the foster care system had taught her resilience. She was finally free from the "foster nightmares," her personal name for the parade of abusive parents she had been assigned to throughout her life. Between school and her part-time job at the local tavern, she knew things could be worse; in fact, they had been much worse.

At five feet, five inches tall, she wasn't considered short for her ethnicity, but she wasn't particularly tall either. She had light skin, long curly black hair, and deep brown eyes.

“New day, new opportunity”, she muttered as she walked out the door of her small, one bedroom apartment.

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the Medina River woods, casting long, shifting shadows across the dirt path. Jesse adjusted her backpack, pushing her earbuds deeper into her ears. The rhythmic beat of her playlist usually acted as a shield against the world, turning her walk into a private sanctuary before the chaos of community college began.

Halfway through the trail, a prickle of unease crawled up her spine. It was that distinct, heavy sensation of a gaze—unblinking and focused.

She slowed her pace, pulling out one earbud. The woods were unnervingly quiet. No birdsong, no rustle of squirrels.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice sounding thin against the towering oaks. "Is someone there?"

Only the wind answered, whistling softly through the cedar brakes. Jesse waited, her heart thudding against her ribs, but the woods remained still. Get a grip, Jesse, she chided herself. It’s just the shadows. She shook her head to clear the nerves, jammed the earbud back in, and forced herself to keep moving.

She was just reaching the bend where the trees began to thin when the song she was listening to faded out. In the heartbeat of silence before the next track began, a sharp crack echoed through the air—the unmistakable sound of a heavy branch snapping.

Jesse spun around, her breath catching in her throat.

There, crouched near a cluster of thick brush, was a shape that didn't belong. It was massive, draped in fur the color of toasted wheat and dried earth. But it was the eyes that froze her blood: two glowing orbs of molten gold, staring directly into her soul with an intelligence that felt terrifyingly human.

It was a wolf. But no wolf should be that large.

Her survival instincts didn’t give her time to process. Flight. Jesse didn't scream; she didn't have the air for it. She bolted. Her sneakers hit the dirt with frantic thuds as she raced toward the light of the clearing. Oh my god, I’m going to die, the thought looped in her mind like a prayer. I'm going to die in these woods.

Her lungs burned, but as the brick buildings of the campus came into view, she found a gear she didn’t know she had. She burst through the tree line in a desperate sprint, lunging for the heavy glass doors of the nearest hall.

Jesse slammed the heavy glass doors shut, her hands trembling as she pressed her face to the reinforced window. She scanned the edge of the forest, but the golden eyes were gone. The woods looked as peaceful as they had ten minutes ago, mocking the terror coursing through her veins.

Relief hit her like a physical blow. Her knees gave out, and she sagged to the linoleum floor, gasping for air that wouldn't come fast enough.

"Jesse? Oh my god, Jesse!"

A girl hurried down the hallway toward her, her presence immediately cutting through Jesse’s panic. It was Jackie, Jesse’s best friend and polar opposite. While Jesse was five-foot-five and often tried to disappear into the background, Jackie—who stood at the exact same height—commanded the room with an effortless, confident grace.

Jackie dropped to her knees, her hourglass figure shifting as she grabbed Jesse’s shoulders. Her flawless, chocolate-colored skin practically glowed under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway. As she leaned in, her long, intricate braids—a striking mix of deep black and vibrant purple—brushed against Jesse’s arm.

"You’re white as a ghost!" Jackie cried, her dark eyes wide with concern. "What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

Between ragged breaths, Jesse told her everything: the weight of the stare, the snap of the branch, and those haunting, molten-gold eyes.

Jackie didn't interrupt, but her expression grew uncharacteristically grim. Her grip on Jesse’s arms tightened. When Jesse finished, Jackie didn't offer a comforting excuse or a joke.

"Jesse, listen to me," Jackie said, her voice dropping to a low, serious caution. "Stay out of those woods. Don't take that shortcut again. It’s dangerous out there."

Jesse let out a shaky, breathless laugh. "Yeah... I noticed."

Jackie helped her up with a steady hand. They began walking toward their first-period class together, Jesse sticking close to her friend’s side, still feeling the phantom chill of the forest on her skin.

The energetic hum of the classroom felt jarringly normal compared to the primal silence of the woods. Jesse sat at her usual scarred wooden desk, her fingers still trembling as she tried to pull her notebook from her bag.

Jackie slid into the desk next to her. She didn't open her textbook. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on Jesse, her expression a mix of fierce protection and something else—something that looked almost like guilt.

"You're still shaking," Jackie whispered, her voice barely audible over the professor’s droning lecture about Sociology. "Maybe you should go to the nurse. Tell them you had a panic attack."

"I'm fine, Jackie," Jesse lied, staring at the blank page in front of her. "I just... I’ve never seen anything that big. It looked like it weighed three hundred pounds. And those eyes... they weren't like a dog's."

Jackie’s jaw tightened. She looked toward the classroom door, then back at Jesse. "Listen to me. The Medina River area is... old. There are things out there people don't talk about. Just promise me you won't go near the tree line alone again. Especially not after dark."

Jesse finally looked up, catching her friend's gaze. "You’re acting like you know exactly what was out there. Jackie, what is the 'Medina River Pack'? I saw it on a sign near the old bridge once."

Jackie stiffened. Before she could answer, the professor tapped his marker against the whiteboard.

"Miss Amador? Miss James? Is there something more important than the 'Social Construction of Reality' you’d like to share with the class?"

The room went silent. Jesse felt the heat rise in her cheeks as twenty heads turned toward her. But as she looked toward the window, she froze.

Down in the courtyard, three stories below, a man was standing near the edge of the parking lot. He was tall, with tawny, sand-colored hair and a build that suggested immense strength. Even from this distance, Jesse felt the weight of his stare. He wasn't looking at the building; he was looking directly at her window.

And though she couldn't see the color of his eyes from here, she knew. She just knew they would be golden brown.