I grabbed Rocky’s sleeve, my fingers trembling.

“I wasn’t even there that day. Can we just go? I’m feeling a bit sick.”

He glanced at me, subtly brushing my hand away.

His voice was sharp, rising in volume.

“Lennox, how old are you? You look perfectly fine. Stop pretending.

“I’ve got to prepare the pack’s medicine. Don’t think just because you saved me once, you can cling to me all the time. It’s annoying!”

Rocky walked off without a backward glance.

Ryan noticed the commotion, his aura prickling with tension as his gaze swept over us.

“In a hurry to leave? Then you’ll be first.”

My heart pounded, my feet rooted to the ground.

Nelson, the Head Healer, interrupted, his scent carrying the faint herbal tang of his work.

“Alpha, perhaps we should start with the first row. These two still need to accompany me to gather herbs!”

Ryan, surprisingly deferential to the elder, nodded in silent agreement.

He began describing the suspect’s features.

“The person had a broad waist… about the width of my hand. Anyone who fits that description, stay.”

Ryan raised his hand, his palm wide, fingers long and defined.

I shuddered at the sight.

After the poisoning incident, the marks from his claws on my waist had taken days to fade.

A testament to his ruthlessness.

He scanned the crowd of over a hundred pack members, quickly narrowing it down to a few dozen.

Then, he moved swiftly, checking each one.

I was in the last row, and it wasn’t long before he reached me.

This is it. I’m dead!

But then my eyes caught sight of the gap in the fence behind me, wide and inviting.

I could probably squeeze through.

I bent down, ready to risk it, only to feel someone yank me back by the collar.

Rocky’s voice was smug, almost taunting.

“Healer Nelson, I’m back to get Lennox. She’s needed for my tasks.

“She was with me the entire time. There’s no way she could’ve been in the Poisoned Forest.”

Nelson clapped his hands, nodding enthusiastically.

“Alpha, it’s true. These two are always together, thick as thieves. And Rocky here is our next Beta, a promising young wolf.

“Lennox? Well, she’s quite taken with him. Trust me, she wouldn’t dare cross you.”

Ryan was silent, his expression unreadable, his Alpha aura pressing down on us like a physical weight.

I linked my arm with Rocky’s, nodding hastily, and we hurried away.

My back was slick with cold sweat.

Thank the Moon Goddess, or Ryan’s claws would have claimed me as another victim.

Once we were outside, Rocky shook off my hand.

He wiped his arm with a look of disgust.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” he muttered.

I nodded quickly. “Thank you.”

Turns out, Rocky had come to ask me to teach him how to sew a pouch.

Stitch by stitch, he worked, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The “swans” he attempted to embroider looked more like ducks.

I took it from him to show him how, and he leaned in close, his scent of herbs and pine filling the air.

My head felt light, giddy with happiness. “Who’s it for?”

It was a double-swan pouch, and tonight was the pack’s annual Moon Run.

My heart raced, but Rocky just snorted.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just teach me.”

His hands, holding the needle, were unusually sweaty.

Rocky was always sharp-tongued, but his heart was pure.

In the pack, he only ever stayed close to me, barely speaking to other females.

This pouch had to be for me.

That night, I dressed up and rushed to the pack’s Moon Run gathering.

I’d heard Ryan was staying overnight, his room next to Rocky’s.

At the table, Rocky sat beside me, his expression dark as he downed his drink.

“Annoying,” he grumbled.

I nodded in agreement, biting into a pastry, only to crack my tooth on a hidden pebble. Tears welled up.

“Ow.”

Rocky called me dramatic, holding a glass of water just out of my reach, forcing me to stretch for it.

He always liked to tease me.

As I whispered back at him, Ryan, in the center of the crowd, suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto me.

His eyes burned red, and the drink in his hand trembled.

I immediately fell silent.

I didn’t dare eat or make a sound.

The room felt stifling, and Ryan was already on his feet, making his way toward me.

I excused myself to get some air and bolted from the table.

“That pouch on your waist is lovely. Which suitor gave it to you?”

Pouch?

I turned toward the voices, spotting a group of younger pack members chatting.

Among them was Gemma, this year’s rising star. Rocky had often praised her, saying she was a thousand times better than me.

I crept closer, eavesdropping.

Gemma was beaming, shyly showing off an awkwardly stitched pouch.

It featured two clumsy ducks, oddly endearing.

It was the one I’d taught Rocky to make, now in her hands.

My chest tightened.

Gemma spotted me and smiled brightly, hanging the pouch prominently on her waist.

“Sister Lennox, isn’t this pouch cute? He’s not great at sewing, but it’s so charming!

“It’s the Moon Run. Don’t you have one?”

My breath caught, and I forced a smile, holding back tears.

“Of course, I just need to find it.”

I fled, their laughter, though not malicious, stinging my back.

I fled back to my room, unable to face the celebration downstairs.

Rocky might have already claimed Gemma as his mate by now. I didn’t understand. He seemed to care for me. He always stood by my side, teased me about my messy hair, and helped me with my training. But then, he’d pull away, his tone light and dismissive. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Lennox,” he’d say, whenever I tried to get closer.

Even the protective mark we made together—he’d given it to someone else.

My fingers ached where I’d pricked them sewing, and the pain mirrored the tightness in my throat. I buried my face in my pillow, muffling my sobs.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open. I turned, startled, but a shadowy figure was already striding toward me.

It was Ryan.

His eyes were bloodshot, his usual commanding aura replaced by something raw and vulnerable. He dropped to his knees beside my bed, his hands wrapping around my legs. There was no threat in his touch—only a desperate need for comfort.

“Alpha?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He shook his head. “Call me Ryan,” he said, his voice rough but softer than I’d ever heard it. He rested his chin on my knees, looking up at me with a smile that revealed a faint dimple.

I didn’t know Ryan could look like this—like a wounded wolf seeking solace.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to provoke you. Please, Alpha, don’t hold it against me—”

He cut me off with a quiet laugh. “Call me Ryan,” he repeated. Then, in a tone that was almost playful, he added, “Luna, are you tired? Let’s rest.”

I froze at the word *Luna*, my heart pounding. But before I could respond, he leaned his head against my knees, his eyes closing as if he’d already decided this was where he belonged.

Outside, the sounds of the celebration continued, muffled by the walls of my room. A knock came at the door, and Gemma’s voice called out, “Lennox, have you seen the Alpha?”

I didn’t answer. Ryan’s breathing had evened out, his grip on me loosening as he drifted into a light sleep. I sat there, unsure of what to do, my mind racing.

He’d called me *Luna*.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run.