Chapter 6: Tension

When I dropped the bombshell, my father and Agatha immediately left my dad's office, leaving Jay and me alone inside. The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind them, sealing us in an atmosphere thick enough to suffocate.

Beating around the bush and cloaking words with more words had never appealed to me. I'd grown up surrounded by people who loved the dance of subtlety, who spoke in circles instead of lines. And I had mastered that dance—out of necessity, not preference. But as I sat across from Jay, I felt no inclination to hide behind polite riddles. With him, I had no interest in prolonging the inevitable.

"That's not a funny joke." His voice was low, almost a growl. A shadow flickered over his face then, shading it for a second. "Being my Luna isn't something you joke about."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. He looked every inch the Alpha the pack adored—strong, unyielding, confident. But it only made the distance between us feel bigger.

"Does it seem like I'm joking?" I mimicked him exactly, my eyes locking with his.

As soon as I leaned back, a thick lump rose in my throat. My bones seemed to fill with discomfort, my posture turning stiff. I couldn't mirror his relaxed arrogance. Unable to hold such a sloppy pose, I straightened, my spine rigid and my hands trembling beneath the table.

Jay was the first to break eye contact. He let out a sharp exhale and rubbed the back of his neck, an old habit when frustration gnawed at him.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked suddenly, and I flinched. His tone wasn't harsh but pointed.

"Alpha…" I started softly.

His upper lip twitched. "Why do you call me Alpha now?"

"It is—"

"Ridiculous," he cut me off, shoving his chair back with a hard scrape as he rose to his feet. He stalked toward the window, broad shoulders rigid, and turned his back on me.

I had never called him Alpha in my past life. He was Jay. Always Jay. And I could still hear his voice from that moment—the sting of his words sharpened by pride and irritation. "Alpha, don't be stupid, Melody. You have to call me by title!

He had said this in front of a lot of people. In front of the people I was supposed to someday lead with him, too. The memory carved through me even now. It had always felt like a closeness to him, calling him by his name. So despite the sudden rise from an ordinary wolf to being the Alpha of the pack, I clung tenaciously to the familiarity between us. It had taken years for me to convince him to use my nickname, years of warmth and trust… years that eventually crumbled.

We were never wrong with the names, just calling them "she," "he," "I," and "me," until this rift grew between us. Until he began to sneer my name, to rebuke me when I dared forget the title he bled so hard to earn. "You fought hard to earn that title," I said quietly, making my voice stay steady, even as a storm raged inside. "It is only fair I use it when addressing you."

His face darkened as he slowly turned back toward me. "Are you getting cold feet?

"No." I took a deep breath. "I just don't want to impose this mating on you." "Burden me?" He muttered the words out loud as if testing them. Then his gaze sharpened, piercing. "Did I give the impression that I am burdened by this?"

His thick brow rose. I swallowed hard.

"I know you want your mate," I said, trying to keep my voice level even as my heart twisted.

He snorted again, crossing his arms. "That was just an excuse to get the elders off my back about mating. Less than twenty percent of our kind ever find their true mates. Only an idealistic fool waits around for a soulmate they may never meet."

Yes, I knew. I knew this version of Jay—practical, logical, dismissive of fate. He had used the destined-mate concept as a shield to fend off elders pushing their daughters at him. But Samantha’s arrival had changed everything. She had awakened something in him that he never had admitted wanting—destiny.

"What if your mate shows up one day?" I asked softly, watching for just a flicker of uncertainty. "What would you do then?"

His golden eyes sparkled with something unreadable. "I never took you for the type to indulge in such lofty ideals," he mused. Then, with a smirk, he added, "It confirms my suspicion—you're having second thoughts already."

"Alpha…" I tried again; my voice cracked.

Ha, why did he have to smile like that?

That infuriating, heart-twisting smile that made my chest feel too tight. Even after everything, even after dying at his hands. I hated myself because I could not harden my heart over a simple smile. Ah, Jay… after everything.

Oh, the confusion and terror that had swallowed me whole when I'd first woken up in my bed that morning. I had died—I remembered it, yet here I was, breathing, alive, back in a timeline I'd already lived. Every night since then, a nightmare had plagued me: visions of my gruesome death replaying in endless loops—Jay's sword plunging into my heart, the betrayal, the pain.

But it wasn’t a dream.

This was real. I had been sent back in time. But I couldn't tell anyone. Nobody would believe me.

Worse yet—they would say I was mad, a shame, and a liar too, one who disgraced not only her own name but also her father's good reputation.

The Goddess had given me a second chance.

So, this time I had to live right.

"In the future, you will meet your mate," I whispered. "And perhaps… I will too. It is only—"

"Enough!" His voice cracked like a whip, sharp and sudden. I jumped, my words dying instantly. A strange, unfamiliar look flickered in his eyes—something intense, something close to… possessiveness? Was it already happening? Jay had never yelled at me in my past life. Not once. Not until Samantha came into the picture. As his best friend, his confidante, and his staunch supporter, I had always been treated with a silent respect. No matter how heated things got, no matter how much strain was placed upon his shoulders, he never raised his voice at me. Not until fate intervened. Not until he found her.