Chapter 4
Three days after the forest run, I found a small bundle outside my door. Dried white willow bark, tied neatly with twine. I had been scouring the academy stores for it all week without luck. There was no note. Just the lingering, warm scent of cedar and wild honey in the hallway.
Two days later, a wooden box appeared. I ran my fingers over the dark mahogany. It was hand-carved, smooth and heavy. I opened the brass latch. Inside, the velvet lining had custom grooves perfectly sized for my personal healing instruments.
Then came the dinners. Felix didn't summon me. He didn't send a royal guard with a formal invitation. He just showed up at the clinic at seven o'clock.
"What do you want to eat tonight?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. He looked entirely too large for the small clinic, his Lycan presence filling the room without him even trying.
I blinked, wiping down a metal tray. "Whatever is fine."
"I didn't ask what was fine," he said softly. His golden eyes locked onto mine, stripping away my polite defenses. "I asked what you want."
I swallowed hard. I set the towel down. No one had ever asked me that. Not my parents. Not Elijah. My whole life was built around what everyone else needed. My preferences never mattered.
"I want a burger," I said quietly.
A slow smile spread across his handsome face. "Then we get burgers."
It was disorienting. He was paying attention. He noticed the small things, the quiet things. I was so used to transactional relationships that I kept waiting for the catch. But the catch never came.
By the end of the week, we were walking back to my dorm. The night air was crisp.
"We should get a dog," Felix said casually, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
I let out a short laugh. "Sure. A dog." I assumed he was just making conversation.
He wasn't.
Saturday morning, a heavy knock woke me up. I opened my door to find Felix standing there. He had a massive bag of puppy kibble over one broad shoulder. In his other arm was a squirming, golden ball of fluff.
"Meet Buster," Felix said. He was completely serious.
I stared at the puppy. He let out a tiny bark and licked Felix's strong jaw. I looked up at the Lycan Prince. "You brought a dog to my dorm."
"Every home needs something warm in it," he replied simply.
*Home.*
The word hit me right in the chest. I didn't argue. I didn't ask questions. I just reached out and took Buster from his arms. The puppy immediately buried his wet nose into my neck, breathing softly against my skin.
The next few weeks fell into a strange, beautiful rhythm. We stood in the pet aisle of the local store, debating over chicken versus lamb kibble. We laughed until our sides hurt when Buster completely destroyed a throw cushion, sending white fluff over my entire living room like an indoor snowstorm. We walked him along the Silvercrest border at dusk. The setting sun cast long shadows, and Felix's arm would brush against mine.
It was ordinary. It was warm. I didn't have a name for this feeling yet, but it felt like breathing.
But my past wasn't done with me.
I was in the clinic breakroom on a Tuesday afternoon, throwing a tennis ball for Buster. My phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from Sarah, a former Omega back at Moonhaven. We weren't close, but she had always been kind to me in the kitchens.
*Sera, you need to see this,* the text read. There was a link attached.
I clicked it. It opened the main pack social network. My stomach dropped.
It was a post from Briella. The photo showed her looking pale and heartbroken, standing next to Elijah. It was an old picture, back when he was still in a wheelchair.
The caption was a masterclass in manipulation. She spun a tragic tale. She painted herself as the wronged first love who bravely stepped aside so I could fulfill my "duty" as a Luna. Now, she wrote, I had abandoned my Alpha after using his resources. I was a bond-breaking traitor who left my pack to chase selfish ambitions at an elite academy.
I scrolled down. Her allies had flooded the platform. There were dozens of shared posts. Hundreds of comments.
*How could she leave a disabled Alpha?*
*Selfish bitch.*
*Briella and Elijah always belonged together. She ruined them.*
The narrative was spreading fast. Pack opinion across the continent was fracturing, turning against me. They were painting me as the villain.
Buster whined. He dropped the slimy tennis ball on my shoe and looked up at me with big brown eyes.
I looked down at the pup, then back at the glowing screen.
My hands weren't shaking. I wasn't the scared girl sleeping on a concrete floor anymore. I didn't feel fear. I felt a cold, sharp focus.
I pressed my fingertips together in front of my lips.
Briella wanted to play the victim. She wanted to twist the truth for sympathy. But she forgot one very important detail. I was the one who signed the mating contract, and I kept the receipts.
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