In my first year at Western University, I started dating someone. By our senior year, we called it quits. He seemed unfazed, leaving me with a dismissive comment: "Didn't think you'd take it seriously; we were just having fun." At the time, I didn’t realize how much those words would haunt me, especially when I was just a Gamma-ranked warrior in the Silver Moon Pack, and he was Jesse Marshall, the future Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack. His rejection stung, not just because of the words, but because of the unspoken truth—I wasn’t high enough in rank to be his mate.

Three years into my career as a Gamma, he unexpectedly reappeared as the new Alpha of our workplace pack. When he asked, "How have you been?" I responded, "Great." But deep down, I knew I wasn’t doing well at all. The mate bond, though never fully formed, still lingered like a ghost between us, and his presence brought it roaring back to life.

Years had passed since we parted, and I never imagined reuniting with Alpha Marshall this way. That morning, Cheyenne Wilson, my fellow Delta-ranked warrior, mentioned that the new Alpha would be visiting, and we might have dinner with him at a local Italian restaurant that evening. Cheyenne, ever the gossip, was buzzing with excitement. "He’s supposed to be implementing some changes to the pack structure. And Gwen, he’s… well, let’s just say he’s exactly what you’d expect from an Alpha."

He arrived in the afternoon with a sizable entourage of Betas and Gammas from his pack. I stayed on the sidelines, hoping the Alpha would overlook a lowly Gamma like me. When he reached our section, he stopped, and Grey Harvey, our Gamma supervisor, quickly introduced us. "Alpha Marshall, this is Cheyenne, Adelynn, and Gwen from our department."

Hearing Grey’s voice, I had no choice but to look up, muster a professional smile, and join the others in greeting, "Alpha Marshall." But my smile froze when I saw him—he had matured a lot, standing over six feet tall in a sharp suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and muscular frame. His hair was slicked back, his jawline more defined, and his high cheekbones and deep-set eyes exuded an aura of dominance that was impossible to ignore.

Alpha Marshall nodded at me, exchanged a few pleasantries with Grey, then walked past us, leaving a subtle woody scent in his wake. It wasn’t until Cheyenne’s voice snapped me out of my daze that I hurried to the restroom, locking myself in a stall, trying to calm my racing heart.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, but when I emerged, my reflection in the mirror was pale and thin, devoid of makeup. I’d imagined many scenarios of running into him again, each where I portrayed myself as thriving post-breakup. But reality hit me hard. I laughed bitterly to myself; perhaps he never remembered me, or maybe he just didn’t care to.

At dinner that evening at the restaurant, I saw Alpha Marshall again. He was seated among the Betas and Gammas, a table away from us. I avoided looking at him, keeping my head down while eating quietly, praying for the event to end quickly. Out of nowhere, loud laughter erupted from the next table, drawing my attention. Alpha Marshall was raising a glass, smiling, "We’re just packmates having a meal; no need for formalities. Feel free to enjoy."

After speaking, he moved toward our table. My colleagues stood up in response, and I awkwardly joined them. His presence was overwhelming, almost stifling, and I fought the urge to run.

"Gwen Lawson, don’t you recognize me?"

I felt rooted to the spot. One second, two seconds. Under the curious stares of my packmates, I felt like I was about to drown. Slowly, I raised my head, "Alpha Marshall, it’s been a while."

"I thought you might have forgotten me," he said, amid the surprised looks from others. "We were in the same year at Western University."

"What a coincidence, Alpha Marshall knows our Gwen!" Grey chimed in at the perfect moment.

"Let’s exchange contacts," Alpha Marshall suggested, pulling out his phone. I saved his number and scanned his QR code to add him on WhatsApp.

As dinner wound down, whispered conversations revealed Alpha Marshall was here to oversee an important project and would likely be staying for a while.

After the dinner, everyone headed home. I checked the schedule for the last train, deciding to take the nearest subway. But before I got far, a car horn blared behind me. I turned to see a black Maybach pulling up beside me, the window rolling down to reveal Alpha Marshall’s familiar face.

"Where are you headed? Let me give you a ride."

"Thanks, but it’s fine. I can take the subway," I replied.

Yet Alpha Marshall didn’t seem to hear me. He opened the car door, "Hop in quickly. There are cameras here, and I can’t park for long."

With traffic building up behind us, I reluctantly got in and gave him my address.

Alpha Marshall glanced at the GPS, "It’s a bit of a ride from here. Is it convenient for work?"

"It’s convenient enough. There’s a subway station nearby, so I commute by train and walk a bit." My fingers trembled slightly, the air thick with tension and unease.

While waiting at a red light, Alpha Marshall turned to me suddenly, casually asking, "How have you been all these years?"

"Good, very good," I said slowly, meeting his gaze.

Though the car’s interior was dim, his eyes were bright and gentle, enough to captivate anyone looking into them. But I knew better than to fall for it again. He was an Alpha, and I was just a Gamma. The pack hierarchy wouldn’t allow it, and neither would I.

I remember my first year in the Silver Moon Pack, when Jesse Marshall, the future Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, arrived for a joint training session. He was striking—taller and more muscular than most, with a commanding presence that turned heads wherever he went. Little did I know how significant he would become to me in the seemingly endless years ahead. Countless times afterward, I found myself absorbed by his captivating looks. I loved gazing into his eyes; they were like the gentle mist of dawn—tender yet clear.

Pack life was busy and fulfilling, and gradually, the image of this remarkable young Alpha faded into the background of my mind.

It wasn’t until one evening, after a late patrol, that I returned to the packhouse and found my packmates huddled together, animatedly discussing something on a phone.

"What’s going on?" I asked.

Hailey Taylor pulled me aside and quickly filled me in—Joelle Rice, a prominent member of our pack, had confessed her feelings to a high-ranking Alpha and got turned down.

"Rejections happen all the time," June Butler added casually. "Especially when it comes to someone like him."

Curious about who this person might be, I was caught off guard when Hailey thrust the phone in front of me. "Gwen, do you think he’s good-looking?"

Before I could process my confusion, I was stunned. The photo wasn’t clear, just a profile shot. Sunlight illuminated his face, making it glow, and his eyes seemed focused intently on something, with a slight smile at the corner of his lips.

It was him. My heart suddenly started pounding.

Through my packmates, I learned his name was Jesse Marshall, the future Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, a pack known for its strength and influence. Since his arrival, he had become the object of many werewolves’ affections.

I occasionally attended pack gatherings, sitting in a back corner, watching him from afar. I was aware of the gap between us—a Gamma like me had little chance of getting close to someone of his status. But hidden in the shadows, I watched him, my wolf stirring quietly in the back of my mind.

The turning point came during a joint pack hunt. Jesse signed up to lead the hunt, showcasing his strength and skill. From then on, the training grounds were rarely empty, as many packmates showed up, hoping to catch his attention. Yet, for more than two weeks, Jesse never appeared, and eventually, everyone left.

I felt a bit disappointed. The words I had rehearsed in my mind never had the chance to be spoken, but hope lingered, and I continued to pass by the training grounds every day.

The Sunday before the next hunt, as I walked past the grounds as usual, I heard the sound of claws against dirt and the low growl of a wolf. Approaching, I saw Jesse in his wolf form, his massive frame moving with a grace that was both intimidating and mesmerizing.

I stood frozen at the edge of the clearing until he shifted back into his human form and prepared to leave. "Excuse me," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I stupidly stepped aside, watching him walk away, feeling a sudden surge of bravery. "Hi, I’m Gwen Lawson. We met once during a pack alliance event when I was younger."

Jesse looked at me, puzzled for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, it’s you."

He and I exchanged contact information. Returning to the packhouse, I quickly washed up, climbed into bed, and curled up under the covers, scrolling through his sparse social media posts with great attention.

A message popped up. Instinctively, I was about to swipe it away until I realized what it was and quickly opened the chat. It was from him: [I’m training again tomorrow evening; are you coming?]

I walked the path to the training grounds many times, but this time I walked slowly, imagining the scene of our meeting over and over, until I reached the clearing, half-lit by the moonlight, and there stood the person I’d been thinking about. Pushing the gate open gently, he turned to me with a smile that seemed to freeze time. My heartbeat resonated with his smile.

Jesse handed me a pass to join the hunt, causing me to abandon my usual patrol duties and venture out alone. That day, he led the hunt with precision and power, his movements fluid and commanding. The pack followed him without question, their loyalty to their Alpha evident.

The hunt ended, and Jesse shifted back into his human form, nodding to the packmates who had followed him. Applause and howls of approval rose like waves. Smiling confidently, he stepped off the field.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a message from Jesse: [Shall we leave together after the pack run?]

I paused before replying: [Okay.]

The night was cold, the wind sweeping through the trees. I wrapped my coat tighter. When Jesse emerged, he had changed into casual clothes, with only a light sweater under his open jacket.

"Aren’t you cold?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Not at all; your hands are freezing," he said, pressing his warm hands against mine. Slowly, his hand slid down to hold mine, guiding me outside. "How was the hunt today?"

"It was great, really great." I couldn’t think of how to express my feelings and just kept repeating myself to mask my embarrassment.

Jesse looked at me with a smile, "Starry Night, that’s what I call nights like this. They say the Milky Way is a hundred thousand light-years across, so every time we see the stars, it’s like connecting with distant planets from millennia ago."

Following his gaze, I raised my head, seeing the scattered starlight in the night sky.

Focused, Jesse continued, "The closest star is 4.4 light-years away. It took over four years to reach here, and we happened to look up. What a romantic encounter!"

Turning to face me, he said, "Meeting you, you’re the star that never sets for me, day or night."

Caught in his gaze, I was speechless, frozen in place.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Jesse’s husky voice reached me, "Gwen Lawson, would you like to be with me?"

Back at the packhouse, I was still dazed, realizing that the Alpha I thought I could only admire from afar had come into my life and held my hand.

And just like that, we were together.