Chapter 5

Rosalee's Point of View

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the small mirror across the room. The faint glow of the bedside lamp casts soft light over my features. My striking blue eyes meet my gaze, a color so vivid they almost seem unnatural. My dark hair falls in soft waves over my shoulders, framing a face that Dameon and his mother have often called beautiful.

Beautiful.

The word feels hollow to me. Beauty doesn’t matter, not when someone discovers the truth of what I am. A hybrid. A creature that doesn’t belong in either world. If he that man from earlier realizes what I truly am, all of this will be over. The life I’ve carefully built here, the fragile sense of safety I’ve managed to hold onto, it will all come crashing down.

I tilt my head slightly, studying my features. There’s no visible trace of the monster within me, no hint of the beast that lies beneath my skin. My reflection doesn’t betray the truth.

But my scent might.

I’m surprised he didn’t pick up on it immediately. Wolves have an acute sense of smell, surely he would have noticed something off. Maybe the faint traces of kitchen spices and cleaning chemicals masked it. Or maybe he did notice but chose not to say anything.

The thought makes my stomach churn, and I shake my head, trying to dislodge the spiraling thoughts. Dwelling on this won’t help. I need to focus on calming down, on finding some sense of peace in the chaos of my mind.

I stand and walk to the bathroom, flipping on the light. The soft hum of the overhead fan fills the small space as I turn on the shower, letting the water heat up.

Stripping off my clothes, I catch another glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. My body is lean but strong, my curves soft yet defined. Two years of proper meals and hard work have erased the gaunt, hollow look I used to have. I look healthier now, more alive. But no matter how much my outer appearance has improved, it doesn’t change the scars I carry inside.

I step into the shower, the hot water cascading over me, soothing the tension in my muscles. I close my eyes, letting the steam envelop me, hoping it will quiet the storm in my mind.

But my thoughts keep racing.

Why did he have to call me mate? Why now? I had prayed to the Moon Goddess to spare me from this, to never hear that word. It’s a cruel twist of fate. If he knew the truth about me, what I am, he would reject me in a heartbeat. Or worse, he might see me as a threat or a monster like everyone else.

I lean my forehead against the cool tile wall, the water running down my back. My mind drifts to the pack that cast me out, to the first time I saw my reflection after my shift. The pitch-black fur, the elongated face, the fiery orange eyes. A monster.

That’s what I am.

I take a deep breath, the steam filling my lungs, and force myself to push the memories away. I can’t afford to fall apart. Not now.

Finishing my shower, I turn off the water and step out, wrapping a towel around myself. The warmth of the shower lingers on my skin, but the storm in my mind hasn’t eased.

As I dry off and dress for bed, I know one thing for certain, I need to stay away from him. Whatever connection we might have, whatever bond the Moon Goddess thinks ties us together, it can’t happen. It won’t happen.

I can’t let it.

I pull on a pair of loose shorts and an oversized t-shirt, my usual bedtime attire, and crawl into bed. The sheets are soft and cool against my skin, but they do little to calm the turmoil in my mind. I close my eyes, willing sleep to come and hoping against hope that when I wake up, this will all have been some horrible nightmare.

But sleep doesn’t come.

Instead, my mind churns, playing out one disastrous scenario after another. No matter how I try to twist it, I can’t imagine this ending well. The word mate echoes in my head, taunting me, as if the Moon Goddess herself is mocking me for ever thinking I could escape my past.

I groan softly, sitting up in bed and turning my gaze to the window. The storm outside rages on, rain lashing against the glass and wind howling through the trees. The lightning illuminates the night in brief, jagged flashes, and the thunder rumbles deep and menacing. It’s chaotic, wild, and untamed, much like the storm in my head.

My thoughts are a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. Why did he have to stop here? Why now? Was it fate, or just some cruel coincidence?

As I sit there, lost in thought, a movement outside catches my eye. I blink, focusing on the shadowy figure making its way across the hotel parking lot.

It’s him.

My breath catches in my throat. Even from this distance, I recognize him, the man who called me mate. His tall, broad frame moves with a fluid grace, and his dark hair clings to his face, damp from the rain.

I watch, frozen, as he heads toward the edge of the forest. The rain soaks through his clothes, but he doesn’t seem to care. Just as he reaches the tree line, he pauses, looking around. My heart pounds in my chest as I shrink back from the window, afraid he might see me watching.

But he doesn’t.

When he’s satisfied that no one is around, he takes a step into the forest and begins to shift.

My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a gasp.

It’s not the familiar, fluid transformation of a werewolf. His shift is something else entirely more primal, more powerful. His body grows larger, his muscles bulging as his clothes shred and fall away. His face elongates, his jaw widening to accommodate sharp, deadly teeth. His fur is dark and thick, his claws gleaming even in the dim light.

He’s not a werewolf.

He’s a Lycan.

I almost fall off the bed in shock. My hands grip the windowsill as I stare, unable to tear my eyes away. This changes everything. A werewolf mate would have been bad enough, but a Lycan? That’s a death sentence waiting to happen.

My mind races as I watch him disappear into the forest, his powerful form blending seamlessly into the shadows. The storm outside feels like a reflection of the chaos within me, both raging with a ferocity that refuses to be ignored.

What am I going to do?

I stay glued to the window, my breath fogging the glass as I stare into the stormy night. My eyes dart to the edge of the forest, scanning for any sign of him. The rain pelts down in relentless sheets, but he’s gone now, swallowed by the trees.

My pulse is still racing, my mind scrambling for a plan. I need to stay as far away from him as possible. If he’s a Lycan, my mate, no less there’s no telling what he might do if he discovers what I am.

I grab my coat from the back of the chair and throw it on over my t-shirt and shorts. My hands tremble as I zip it up. I slip into my shoes, not bothering to tie the laces, and quietly open my door. The hallway is dim and silent, the faint hum of the storm the only sound.

I make my way downstairs, my footsteps soft against the carpeted stairs. As I reach the lobby, the bright overhead lights feel almost jarring after the darkness of my room.

Sarah the receptionist on shift is still at the desk, her head bent over her phone. Her perfectly styled hair and flawless makeup make me feel even more out of place in my rumpled clothes and bare face. She doesn’t notice me until I clear my throat.

Her head snaps up, and she gives me a polite smile. “Oh, Rosalee. What can I do for you?”

I force myself to return her smile, even though my nerves are frayed. “Hi. I, um, just wanted to ask about the guests who arrived tonight. Do you know how long they’ll be staying?”

Her expression shifts slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, you mean the two men and one woman who came in during the storm?”

I nod my head, trying to keep my voice casual. “Yeah. I just… wanted to know if I should expect any extra cleaning or special requests while they’re here.”

She shrugs, tapping at her keyboard. “Well, they didn’t say exactly how long, but they booked the rooms for at least three nights. Could be longer, though.”

My stomach twists. Three nights. Maybe more.

“Do you know which rooms they’re in?” I ask, keeping my tone light. “Just so I can plan ahead.”

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t seem suspicious. “They’re on the third floor. Rooms 302, 303, and 304. Two of them are next to each other, and the third is across the hall.”

I nod my head, my heart sinking. The third floor. Close enough to make avoiding them tricky but not impossible.

“Thanks,” I say, forcing another smile.

She leans forward slightly, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her. “Why do you ask? Did something happen?”

I shake my head quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just like to be prepared, you know?”

She seems to accept my answer, leaning back in her chair. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”

I nod my head again and turn away, heading back toward the stairs. My mind races as I climb back to my room. I’ll have to be careful, very careful. With them staying so close, I can’t afford to let my guard down for even a second.

This is going to be a long three days.