The morning sun filters through the lace curtains, casting a golden glow over the breakfast table where I sit with my parents. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the scent of pancakes and bacon, hoping it could somewhat create a comforting atmosphere in the dining area, but it doesn’t. Mama places a plate of pancakes in front of me. Then she asks, "Darling, is everything okay?" I lift my gaze at her, her brow furrows with concern as she studies my face. Then, I force a smile."I'm fine, just not very hungry," I reply.“But you didn’t eat last night either,” mama counters."Hey, did you catch the game last night? The Bulls were on fire!" Papa chimes in, eager to lighten the mood. "Yeah, they played really well," I say even though I've not watched the game.My thoughts drift back to the emails I received from Author Agness. The feeling of unease that has settled in the pit of my stomach and the nagging fear in my heart are impossible to shake off.Papa launches into a

HUGH’S POV: The cool morning air pirouettes through the open balcony doors, carrying with it the earthy scent of nature and the distant murmur of the city below. I stand at the railing, my hands gripping the wrought iron as I gaze out into the clear sky. My mind is a vortex of frustration and confusion, my heart heavy with the weight of unanswered questions. Anastasia's defiance lingers in my thoughts like an unwelcome specter. I couldn't fathom why she continues to reject me, where she gets the audacity to tell a ridiculous lie to avoid my advances. If she doesn’t feel the pull between us, why not simply say so? Why concoct elaborate tales better suited to children's bedtime stories? She’s an enigma, a puzzle I couldn't solve easily. It’s obvious she’s facing some difficulties, I could see the strain in her eyes, the tension in the set of her shoulders. But what those difficulties are, I couldn't say. If only she can be honest with me and tell me the truth, the real truth, then I’

The sky above the Ashfell Pack's subdivision hangs heavy with the promise of impending rain, casting a somber hue over the towering gates that mark the entrance to the domain of their wolves. I, with a pounding heart of anticipation and determination, approach the imposing structure, my steps faltering slightly as I near the two formidable figures standing guard. Clad in fitted black shirts, military-style trousers, and boots that reverberate the weight of their authority, the Gammas exude an aura of silent menace. Their eyes, sharp and keen like those of predators, bear into me as if they can see straight through to the very core of my being, assessing me with a scrutiny that makes my skin prickle with unease. Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I meet their gaze head-on, refusing to cower beneath the weight of their scrutiny. I square my shoulders, chin lifted defiantly as I speak. "I'm here to see Yvanna Bautista. It's important." The shorter of the two Gammas, his ex

YVANNA’S POV: I sit perched on the plush seat before my vanity mirror, the soft glow of the vanity lights casting a flattering aura around me. My reflection stares back at me, my red locks hanging just above my shoulders. Christy, one of my Omegas, stands behind me, blow-drying my hair with deft movements. As I watch myself in the mirror, a smile plays at the corners of my lips, a secret, knowing smile that speaks of anticipation and excitement. Tonight is the night I’ve been waiting for, the night I was only imagining countless times in my mind's eye. Two years have passed since we had parted ways, two long years filled with longing and regret. I giggle softly to myself, a sound of pure joy bobs up from deep within me. Christy stares at me through my reflection in the mirror, a teasing smile stretching her lips.Oh, how I relish the thought of what’s to come! The romantic dinner, the intimate sidelong glances across the table, the whispered words of love that’ll surely follow. A

Yvanna watches me with a mixture of concern and anticipation, her confidence slipping off. She senses my inner struggle, the tension that coils beneath my calm facade. "Hugh," she murmurs. "What's wrong?" My expression remains strained. "Yvanna, please, put your dress back on." Her brow furrows in confusion, but she doesn’t comply, pushing the fabric of her dress away with slow, deliberate movements of her foot. As she approaches me, the distance between us seems to stretch infinitely. "I don’t wanna test the waters just through dating, we can do it by becoming more intimate," she says softly, her eyes searching mine. Without answering her question, I hurl a response in an icy tone, “I’ll call my delta and have him drive you home.” Yvanna’s eyebrows flick in surprise, her lips opening then closing without a single word slipping through them. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, even her wolf who’s reflected behind her eyes, seems to be hurt by my words. She rests her palms and