CHAPTER 6

The night was heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. After the confrontation with my uncle and aunt, I retreated to my room, the weight of Christopher’s rejection pressing down on me like a physical force. The envelope of money he’d given me sat on the edge of my desk, untouched, a silent reminder of his cold dismissal. I couldn’t bring myself to open it. It felt like accepting it would mean admitting defeat, and I wasn’t ready to do that—not yet.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall, my mind racing. The bond between us, whatever it was, still lingered, a faint but persistent pull in my chest. It was maddening, this connection that refused to let go, even when he had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to push the feeling away. But it was no use. The bond was there, stubborn and unyielding, like a thread I couldn’t sever.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t respond, but the door creaked open anyway, revealing my aunt Vivian. She stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her, and sat down beside me on the bed. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, just sat there, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of my emotions.

“Jessica,” she said finally, her voice gentle but firm. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

I didn’t look at her. “Doing what?”

“Bottling everything up. Pretending you’re fine when you’re not.” She reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

I shrugged her hand away, more out of habit than anything else. “I’m not pretending. I’m just… trying to figure things out.”

“And have you? Figured things out, I mean.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Not even close.”

My aunt sighed, her expression softening. “Jessica, I know this is hard. But you have to understand—Christopher isn’t just being cruel. There’s more to this than you realize.”

I turned to her, my eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the door as if she was afraid someone might overhear. “There are things about the pack—about Christopher—that you don’t know. Things that even I don’t fully understand. But I do know this: he’s not acting out of malice. He’s trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I repeated, my voice rising. “From what? Himself?”

“From the pack,” she said quietly. “From the expectations and the politics. From the danger.”

I stared at her, my mind racing. “What danger? What are you talking about?”

She shook her head, her expression pained. “I can’t say more. It’s not my place. But you need to trust me when I tell you that Christopher isn’t your enemy.”

I wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in her eyes stopped me. There was something there—fear, maybe, or regret—that made me hesitate. Whatever she wasn’t telling me, it was big. And it scared her.

I looked away, my chest tightening. “It doesn’t matter. He still rejected me. He still wants me gone.”

“And yet you’re still here,” she pointed out, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re stronger than you think, Jessica. Don’t let him—or anyone else—make you doubt that.”

I didn’t respond, but her words lingered in my mind long after she left the room. Stronger than I thought. Was I? It didn’t feel like it. Not when every step forward felt like a battle, not when the weight of Christopher’s rejection threatened to crush me.

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The next morning, I woke up to the sound of voices outside my window. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and peered through the curtains. A group of pack members had gathered in the courtyard, their voices low but urgent. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the tension in the air was palpable.

I dressed quickly and headed downstairs, my curiosity getting the better of me. My uncle was in the kitchen, his expression grim as he sipped his coffee. He looked up when I entered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You should stay inside today,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I frowned. “Why? What’s going on?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the window. “There’s been… an incident. A rogue wolf was spotted near the border last night.”

My stomach dropped. “A rogue? What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, setting his cup down with a sharp clink, “that things are more dangerous than usual. Until we know more, it’s best if you stay out of sight.”

I crossed my arms, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “So now I’m supposed to hide? What happened to ‘we’ll figure something out’?”

My uncle’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about you, Jessica. This is about the safety of the pack. If the rogue is still out there, we can’t afford any distractions.”

“Distractions?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Is that what I am now? A distraction?”

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said it all. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the kitchen, my chest heaving. I couldn’t stay here, not when it felt like the walls were closing in around me. I needed air, space, something to clear my head.

I grabbed my jacket and slipped out the back door, ignoring my uncle’s calls for me to come back. The forest was quiet, the early morning light filtering through the trees as I walked, my footsteps crunching against the fallen leaves. The further I got from the house, the more the tension in my chest eased. Out here, I could breathe. Out here, I could think.

But the peace didn’t last long. As I walked, I felt it—a presence, faint but unmistakable. I froze, my heart pounding as I scanned the trees. There was nothing there, no movement, no sound, but the feeling persisted, a prickling at the back of my neck that made my skin crawl.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling slightly. “Is someone there?”

No response. Just the rustle of leaves in the wind. I took a step back, my instincts screaming at me to run, but before I could move, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and piercing green eyes. He looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch, his gaze sweeping over me like he was sizing me up.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “It’s not safe.”

I took another step back, my heart racing. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to watch me with that unnerving stare. “You’re not one of them,” he said finally, more to himself than to me. “But you’re not human, either.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “What do you want?”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle. “I want to know why you’re here. Why you’re with them.”

“I’m not with anyone,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m just… trying to figure things out.”

He took a step closer, and I instinctively backed away, my pulse quickening. “You’re lying,” he said, his tone sharp. “I can smell it on you. The pack. The Alpha. You’re tied to them, whether you want to be or not.”

I shook my head, my chest tightening. “I’m not. I don’t belong here.”

He laughed, a low, humorless sound. “You keep telling yourself that. But the truth is, you’re already in too deep. And if you’re not careful, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

Before I could respond, he turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding and my mind racing. His words echoed in my head, a chilling warning that I couldn’t shake.

By the time I made it back to the house, the sun was high in the sky, but the warmth did little to ease the cold dread settling in my chest. My uncle was waiting for me on the porch, his arms crossed and his expression dark.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

I didn’t answer, just brushed past him and headed inside. I didn’t have the energy to explain, not when my mind was still reeling from the encounter in the forest. But as I climbed the stairs to my room, one thought kept circling in my head:

What have I gotten myself into?