Chapter 2 – The Gift

Ayla’s POV

Luna Ria disappears into the packhouse the moment she sees me moving. I guess someone must have called her; otherwise, she would have waited for me.

She and Alpha Jack took me in after the fall of my pack.

I push the depressing thoughts aside and focus on my breathing. The closer I get to the packhouse, the harder it becomes to breathe. It’s not the cold—it’s the noise.

Laughter spills out into the night, far too loud and easy. It echoes around me with a low, steady thump, almost like a heartbeat—one I’m not part of. It’s alive inside, far too busy for my liking.

I stop at the door for a second longer than I should before finally opening it.

The familiar heat of the packhouse hits me first, making my skin sting where the cold had settled too deep.

I don’t move deeper right away; I just stand there, letting the warmth soak in while everything else rushes over me—the smells, the sounds, the movement.

There are way too many huge bodies in such a small space.

The room is perfectly decorated—definitely Luna Ria’s doing. Beautiful garlands twist along the beams, with red ribbons threaded through them.

A huge Christmas tree stands tall and bright in the corner of the room, yellow lights flickering in holiday spirit and harmony.

People fill every corner, talking, laughing, leaning into each other like it’s natural. It’s as if they’ve never had to wonder where they stand or whether they’re welcome.

I stay near the wall and out of sight. It’s easier that way.

No one really looks my way or pays attention to me. A few glance over, but they look away just as quickly, like I’m something they shouldn’t be caught staring at.

That’s fine—I don’t want their attention. It’s better like that.

I know my hoodie stands out like a sore thumb. It’s way too thin and dull compared to the thick knits and bright colors everyone else is wearing. I tug at the sleeve without thinking, my fingers twisting into the thin fabric, making me more aware.

My gaze lands on a table near the tree—it's filled with expensive-looking gifts wrapped in bright paper and shiny bows.

Kael stands nearby, calling names like he owns the moment.

People step forward, laughing before they even open anything. A pack member pulls out a pair of ridiculous socks, and the whole room explodes in laughter as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

I watch from where I am—I always just keep quiet and watch the interactions. I never join in. I was never made part of this.

“Ayla.” My name sounds wrong when it slips from Kael’s lips.

I don’t move at first, but then realize everyone is looking my way.

Kael’s eyes harden, something flashing in them. “Get a move on!” he barks. “The rest are waiting.”

“Give it to me,” Ryker sneers, taking the gift from Kael.

I step forward slowly, my heart already racing. Ryker shoves a small box into my hands and whispers, “Guess someone actually thought of you this year.”

I ignore him as I turn the plain, dented box around. There’s no name from the sender. I wonder who would give me a gift.

I turn it slightly, running my thumb along the edge where it’s bent in. The cardboard is rough and soft in places where it’s been handled too much. I slowly open it, and my heart warms slightly.

There’s a simple pair of gray gloves inside—nothing special, but useful.

“I guess they were someone’s extras,” Ryker says before turning away.

A few quiet laughs follow—not loud enough to draw attention, but just enough to settle under my skin.

I ignore them. Whoever gave these to me must have noticed I didn’t have any.

I nod once as a thank you—an automatic reaction, a habit—and close the box again.

I head back to the wall at the back of the room—no one stops me; they’ve already moved on to the next gift.

Another name. Another laugh. Another moment that has nothing to do with me.

I suddenly feel suffocated, trapped, and move toward the exit.

My hand is on the door handle when I hear my name again.

The voice isn’t sharp; it’s not mocking or unkind, yet it still makes my chest tighten.

I slowly turn around, seeing Alpha Jack standing a few steps away, Luna Ria beside him.

Luna Ria smiles at me—not the same kind of smile everyone else wears—hers is quieter, as if she shares my grief.

“Come here, child,” she says, extending her hand. “I have something for you.”

I hesitate for a moment before moving closer, and they lead me a little off to the side, where the light is softer and the noise doesn’t hit as hard.

Alpha Jack looks at me—not through or past me, but with the kind of gaze a father might give. It’s a little uncomfortable, but not in a bad way.

Luna Ria takes my hand and places a small item in it.

I knit my eyebrows as my eyes fall on a small box wrapped in beautiful dark green paper with a silver bow. The green reminds me of the forest, and the silver ribbon reminds me of the moon.

For a moment, I just stare at it in confusion. Why would they give me something now, after all these years?

“It’s for you,” Luna Ria says gently, her green eyes warm but full of worry. “Go on, open it.”

It’s not a demand but a choice, and with slight hesitation, I do as she asks.

My fingers curl around the box before I carefully unwrap and open it.

I stop breathing the moment my eyes fall on the silver necklace. It isn’t new, but I’d recognize the pendant anywhere.

I raise my gaze to Luna Ria, and the unspoken question lingers in the air for just a moment.

Luna Ria’s gaze shifts to Alpha Jack for the answer.

“We found it in the remains of your old pack,” he says quietly. “We thought it might bring you some closure.”

I know what he’s referring to—the silence.

For a moment, I just stare at him; his words don’t hit me all at once. They sink in slowly, and then everything around me tilts.

Alpha Jack stands closer, grabbing my shoulders, but it’s too late.

Images of that night flash before my eyes in broken fragments. Fire. Smoke. Eyes.

My mother’s helpless body covered in claw marks, my father’s call drifting to silence.

“Oh dear, Ayla, are you alright?” Luna Ria’s voice rings in my ears, bringing me back.

I blink hard, and the room returns, but nothing feels steady.

My hands tremble with the necklace in them, and heat rushes down my cheeks. I only notice the tears when they fall.

I wipe my face and try to force the tears back, but it doesn’t work.

Alpha Jack gently moves me to a nearby chair and sets me down. Luna Ria gently covers my hands with hers.

“Easy, there,” she murmurs. “I know you’re still hurting. We’re here for you, you know that, don’t you?”

I nod, even though I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to.

I fasten the necklace with clumsy fingers around my neck—the metal is cold against my skin—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. It settles, as if it knows it belongs there.

Alpha Jack’s voice cuts through quietly.

“Tonight is your eighteenth birthday.”

I nod.

He watches me for a moment and asks, “Are you ready for your first shift?”

My wolf stirs inside me with urgency, as if she heard the question. She’s awake—really awake and ready to be born into this world.

The thought makes me go still, and fear fills my insides. Then another, unknown emotion fills me with something sharper—I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not quite excitement.

I exhale internally, trying to push the feeling aside. I’ve always been alone, and that won’t change tonight.

I raise my chin and nod; it’s the only answer I have.

Luna Ria’s expression softens. “You won’t be alone anymore, you know. You’ll have someone by your side... always.”

I know she’s trying, and her words are kind, but I want more than that—I need someone to accept me for me, with all my flaws and silence.

Will I ever meet someone like that? Will my mate accept me as I am?

The same tight, electric feeling pierces through my chest and is impossible to ignore. Something or someone is coming, and it’s bigger than just my first shift.

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