21-BITTER MEMORIES ACT I

You could smell the sea salt from their home and sometimes hear the waves crashing at night. Rose stood on the porch of the pack house, squinting down the road that wound out of Stonehaven.

She would be eighteen in three weeks. The pack would throw a celebration whether she wanted it or not, and she would finally get her long-awaited wolf. That should have been enough to fill her thoughts, but it wasn’t. What mattered was that Xavier and Chris were coming home.

Her two best friends.

She could still feel the river mud from Spouts Bridge, the way it had squelched between her toes when she and Xavier and Chris had hunted frogs at dusk, the three of them laughing till they cried.

The pack had called them the Three Musketeers then. She had been a year younger, always trying to keep up; they had fit together in a way that had never needed explaining.

They had run the clifftops, played along the beach, swum out past the break, even when they knew they shouldn’t, and raced to the waterfall whenever they could get away. The wild roses grew thick there, so dense the air always carried their scent, even in the colder months. Xavier always won, his stride longer, his laugh louder, something effortless in the way he moved. Chris came second, steady and grinning, never bothered by the outcome. Rose came last and didn’t care; she only wanted to be there with them.

Jenny had hated it.

“Nice girls don’t come home looking like they’ve rolled in a pigsty,” her mother would say, her mouth tightening every time.

“She’s a tomboy, Jenny, leave her be,” Arthur would answer, like it wasn’t a problem.

Her cousin Brittany always arrived spotless, in pink dresses and patent shoes, soft curls that never seemed to fall out of place.

Rose had known for years that Brittany was the daughter Jenny wished she had been given, blonde, polished, and practically perfect. Easy to be proud of in a way Rose had never quite managed.

Rose would stand there with mud streaked across her shirt while Jenny sighed the same sigh she had been giving for years.

Arthur had been the only one who understood.

He had taken Rose behind the workshop when she was nine, placed a wooden practice blade in her hand, and told her to swing until her arms shook.

“It’s our secret,” he had said, ruffling her hair. “Your mother thinks fighting turns girls mean. I think it keeps them alive.”

Every afternoon after that, while the boys trained openly for the Queen’s Elite Guard, Rose trained with Arthur.

She learned from the best, how to throw a punch, how to read movement, how to take a motorcycle apart and put it back together so it ran better than before.

In the year the boys were gone, Arthur let her help with his special build, the one with the custom frame and the engine that growled like distant thunder. He never said who it was for, but Rose had always assumed it was for Alpha Callan. It felt like something meant for someone powerful.

The Elite Guard had taken Xavier and Chris first.

Brittany had ended up there, too, which still made Rose’s jaw tighten whenever she thought about it.

Brittany had never cared about that life; it wasn’t built for it. She cared about climbing a social ladder and finding a suitable husband.

Rose thought she was ridiculous for going, and, if she was being honest, a little jealous that she would be there with them.

Rose had stayed behind, lonelier than she ever admitted, working on the bike and waiting.

A whole year of Jenny’s gentle nudges.

“Why don’t you spend time with your cousin when she gets back? Go dress shopping, try to bond. You’re on the threshold of becoming a woman now. Family bonds are so special.”

Rose had agreed, because it was Jenny asking, and part of her still wanted to make her mother proud.

She still refused to even consider anything pink.

She stood on the steps waiting as her mind had wandered, until the dust cloud appeared at the bend in the road.

Rose straightened without realizing she had.

The limousine came into view, cutting through the dirt track, carrying the pride of the pack home.

She let out a breath as the car came to a stop.

Xavier stepped out first.

Then Brittany.

Then Chris.

The pull in her chest when her eyes landed on Xavier hit harder than she expected, sharp and sudden, like something had been waiting for him longer than she had realized.

His eyes found hers across the yard.

For half a second, the old smile flickered, the one that said, catch me if you can.

Then Brittany moved into him, her hand settling against his chest like she had a right to be there.

Rose’s smile disappeared, and her hands curled into fists so tight her nails bit into her skin.

The pack gathered quickly, cheering and backslapping as they welcomed home their favorites.

Rose stayed on the steps, rooted where she stood.

When Xavier finally broke free and walked toward her, she met him halfway.

“You are with my cousin now,” she said, her voice carried in the wind.

He stopped.

“Rose, I wanted to tell you first, but…”

“No. Don’t.” The words came out sharper than she intended. “You were supposed to be my best friend. Not hers.”

Chris stepped between them, his hand landing on Xavier’s shoulder.

“Come on, it’s been a long ride. Let’s not do this here.”

But Rose was already burning.

“Do what? Tell the truth?” she said. “She never wanted to be in the Elite Guard. She wanted a husband, an alpha, and you gave her one.”

The words tasted like river mud and something bitter she couldn’t swallow.

She could see the hurt in his eyes, even as he tried to argue.

“Rose, you don’t get to decide who I…”

“I get to decide who my best friend is,” she snapped.

Heads turned. Voices lowered.

Brittany watched from the edge of the crowd, her expression soft, almost sympathetic.

That made it worse.

Rose turned on her heel and walked away before anyone could see the sting behind her eyes. She heard Xavier call her name once, rough enough to make her hesitate, but she didn’t stop.

The waterfall was the one place she could be alone; she always felt safe here.

She sat on the wet rocks, knees drawn up, letting the roar of the water fill her head, trying to drown everything else out.

The tears came anyway.

She hadn’t cried in a long time, not since they left.

Then something inside her split open.

Pain bloomed along her spine, sharp enough to steal the air from her lungs. Her body twisted, bones shifting, fur breaking through skin as the world snapped into something sharper, louder, overwhelming.

She dropped to all fours, letting the change take place.

Her heart hammered so hard it drowned out the waterfall, and pain racked her body.

She didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

It was the scent that hit first.

Sea salt and cedar.

A fresh, strong smell that pulled at every instinct she had.

Her head snapped up.

Xavier stood at the tree line, eyes wide, chest heaving like he had run the entire way.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Then something raw and undeniable broke through whatever control he had left.

“Mine,” he growled, the word rough, pulled from somewhere deep.

The answer came without hesitation, older than logic, stronger than anything she had ever known.

“Mate.”