Chapter 2 – The Gift

Ayla's POV

Luna Ria disappeared back inside the moment she saw me moving.

Someone must have called her—she would have waited otherwise. That was just the kind of woman she was. She and Alpha Jack had taken me in after the fall of my pack, and over the years I had learned to read the small things she did. She always left the kitchen light on. The extra plate at dinner was a detail that nobody commented on.

I pushed the thought away and focused on breathing.

The closer I got to the packhouse, the harder that became—not because of the cold, but because of the noise. Laughter spilled out into the night, too loud and too effortless. It mixed with music that thumped low and steady underneath everything, like a heartbeat I didn't belong to. It was alive in there. Too alive.

I stopped at the door a second longer than I should have. Then I pushed it open.

The heat hit me all at once, making my skin sting where the cold had settled too deep. I didn't move right away. I just stood there and let it soak in while everything rushed over me at once—the smells, the sounds, the movement. Too many bodies packed into one space, all of them at ease in a way I had never quite managed.

I stepped inside before I could change my mind.

The room was perfectly decorated—Luna Ria's doing, without question. Garlands twisted along the ceiling beams, red ribbon threaded through them, and a huge Christmas tree stood tall and bright in the corner, its yellow lights flickering warmly against the dark wood walls.

People filled every corner—talking, laughing, and leaning into each other as if it cost them nothing. Like they had never once had to think about whether they were welcome somewhere.

I moved to the nearest wall and stayed there.

It was easier that way.

No one looked my way for long. A few glances came and went quickly, like I was something people sensed without wanting to acknowledge directly.

That was fine. I didn't want their attention anyway.

My hoodie stood out the moment I stepped in—too thin, too faded against the thick knits and bright colors everyone else wore. I tugged at the sleeve without thinking, fingers twisting the worn fabric.

Near the tree, a table was stacked with gifts—bright wrapping paper, shiny bows, and too much color all at once. Kael stood nearby, calling names with the effortless authority of someone who had never doubted that the room was his. People stepped forward laughing before they even opened anything. Someone pulled out a pair of ridiculous socks, and the whole room erupted like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.

I watched from where I stood.

I always watched. I never interacted. No one had ever given me anything that was truly mine.

"Ayla."

My name sounded wrong in a room so loud. Out of place.

I didn't move at first. Then I realized everyone was looking.

Kael's eyes hardened. "Get a move on," he said sharply. "The rest of us are waiting."

"Give it here," Ryker said, already reaching for the gift before Kael could hand it over.

I stepped forward slowly, my heart already picking up. Ryker pushed a small box into my hands and leaned in slightly.

"Guess someone actually thought of you this year."

I ignored him and looked down at what he'd given me. No bright paper. No ribbon. Just a plain brown box with bent corners and cardboard that had gone soft in places from too much handling.

I turned it over slowly, running my thumb along the bent edge. Someone had held onto the box for a while before deciding to give it.

I opened it.

A pair of gray gloves. Simple, plain, nothing remarkable. But thick—the kind that actually kept the cold out.

"Probably someone's extras," a voice said from somewhere behind me.

A few quiet laughs followed. The laughter was not loud enough to create a scene but enough to get under my skin.

I ignored it. Whoever had left this had noticed I didn't have any. That was more than most people had ever bothered to do.

I nodded once—habit more than anything—closed the box, and headed back to the wall. Nobody stopped me. They had already moved on to the next name, the next laugh, and the next moment that had nothing to do with me.

The air started feeling too tight not long after that, and I drifted toward the door.

My hand found the handle.

"Ayla."

The voice wasn't sharp. It wasn't mocking or unkind. But something about it still made my chest pull tight.

I turned slowly.

Alpha Jack stood a few steps away, Luna Ria at his side. She wasn't wearing the same smile as everyone else in the room. Hers was quieter—like she understood something the others didn't, like she could feel my grief from where she stood.

"Come here, child," she said, extending her hand. "I have something for you."

I hesitated for just a moment before I crossed the distance.

They guided me gently to the side of the room, where the light was softer and the noise didn't press in quite as hard. Alpha Jack looked at me the way he sometimes did—directly, without looking past me or through me. Like he actually saw me. His blue eyes were kind and hopeful. It was still something I didn't quite know what to do with, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the way I was used to.

Luna Ria placed something small in my hands.

A box. Wrapped in dark green paper—the color of pine trees in deep winter—with a silver ribbon that caught the light like moonlight on snow.

I stared at it for a moment, brows pulling together.

"It's for you," Luna Ria said gently. "Go on, open it."

I carefully peeled back the paper and lifted the lid.

The breath left my body.

A silver necklace. Small pendant. Old.

I would have known it anywhere.

I raised my eyes to Luna Ria's, the silent question lingering between us. She glanced at Alpha Jack.

"We found it in what remained of your old pack," he said quietly. "We thought it might bring you some closure."

His words didn't land all at once. They sank in slowly, one at a time—and then the room tilted.

Alpha Jack's hands found my shoulders, but it was already too late.

The images came the way they always came—fast and broken and merciless.

Fire.

Blood.

Red eyes.

My mother's voice: 'Don't let them find you…'

"Ayla." Luna Ria's voice cut through, pulling me back. "Are you alright?"

I blinked hard. The room reassembled itself around me, but it didn't feel steady. My hands were shaking, the necklace trembling between my fingers.

I didn't notice the tears until they were already falling.

I pressed my lips together and tried to stop them. It didn't work.

Alpha Jack guided me gently to a nearby chair. Luna Ria sat close, her hands folding carefully over mine.

"Easy," she murmured. "You're hurting. We know that. But we're here—you know that, don't you?"

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure what exactly I was agreeing to.

I fastened the necklace with clumsy fingers, the metal cold against my collarbone. It warmed quickly—faster than it should have, like it remembered belonging there. Like it had always known it was mine.

Alpha Jack's voice came quietly through the noise of the room.

"Tonight is your eighteenth birthday."

I nodded.

He watched me for a moment before continuing. "Are you ready for your first shift?"

My wolf stirred at the words—urgent, unmistakable. She was awake. Really awake, for the first time.

Fear moved through me first, then something underneath it. Something sharper. Not quite excitement, but close enough to be dangerous.

I had always been alone. Tonight wouldn't change that.

I lifted my chin and nodded. It was the only answer I had.

Luna Ria's expression softened. "You won't be alone anymore. You'll have someone by your side—always."

I knew she meant it kindly.

But something in my chest tightened anyway—electric, impossible to ignore. It felt as if a door inside me had swung open, one that I hadn't known existed.

Something was coming.

And it was going to change everything.

****