Bonus Chapter 2

The pasta boils over.
I yelp and rush to the stove, adjusting the heat with one hand and fanning the steam with the other. The sauce simmers beside it, rich and sweet, just like Stephen likes. 
I already laid out the table—candles lit, napkins folded into little roses. It’s silly, I know. He doesn’t notice the details, but I can’t help myself. It’s how I show I care. It’s how I was raised.
Besides, it’s been a long day for him. Mondays always are. I want him to come home to warmth and comfort. I want to be the kind of softness he sinks into. The kind no one ever wants to leave.
Like I always dreamed.
The clock ticks past seven. He’s late.
My heart gives a soft flutter, but I tell it to hush. He gets caught up with work. That doesn’t mean anything. That doesn’t mean anything.
I stir the sauce again and wipe down the counter, even though it’s already clean. 
My wolf is uneasy in my mind. Ever since I moved into his house a month ago, I’ve been lying to my family. Telling them I’m still in the Diamond Claw pack, working on a post-graduate training.
But I just couldn’t go home. Not yet. Not when everyone would be happy and I... miserable. I don’t know if I can keep pretending to be perfect anymore.
And Stephen… he saw past all that. Back in Diamond Claw, he looked at me like I was a girl, not a symbol. Not an ideal. Not someone to compare with.
I was just Wren. And I needed that.
The front door clicks open.
I smooth my hair instinctively and paste on a big smile that almost hurts my cheeks.
Stephen walks in, running a hand through his messy dark hair, his coat half off his shoulder. He smells like winter wind and city smoke and... something else.
My smile falters.
Wooden. Not sweet. Not mine.
I move toward him anyway, wrapping my arms around his middle. It’s instinct, like smoothing down ruffled sheets or keeping my voice soft during a storm. But my wolf stiffens inside me.
His arms close around me a second too late. “Hey, honey,” he says, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “Dinner smells good.”
“I made the sauce the way you like,” I say. My voice is even. Pleasant. I even manage a small laugh as I gesture toward the table. “Come sit. You’re home late.”
He grunts something about a meeting running long. Doesn’t look me in the eye. Just shrugs off his coat and walks past me. The scent trails behind him.
I blink hard and follow.
We eat.
I fill his plate. Pour his water. Listen to him talk about territory tensions and his father’s demands; his pack is close to Summerville, like mine. I nod at the right times. Smile when he smirks. I don’t say a word about the perfume.
Maybe love takes patience.
I’ve never been the kind of girl who raises her voice, anyway.
I’ve only ever known how to earn love by being good.
And I don’t know what happens when I stop.
He clears his plate in ten minutes and leans back in his chair, wiping his mouth.
“More?” I ask, already reaching for the ladle.
“Nah.” He stretches his arms behind his head, his eyes scanning his phone. “Tired. Long day.”
I wait until the silence settles. Until I can hear the hum of the refrigerator and the tick of the clock again.
My palms are damp. I rub them down my thighs beneath the table, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my dress.
Then I say it.
“Stephen?” My voice is gentle. Almost a whisper. Like if I make myself small enough, soft enough, the words won’t sting.
He doesn’t look up. “Hm?”
I trace the edge of my plate with my finger. “When you came home today... you smelled a little different.”
That gets his attention. His gaze lifts slowly, carefully, like a man bracing for something. “Different, how?”
I smile too quickly, a nervous flutter. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just—well, there was another scent. Perfume, I think. Not strong, but… different.”
The silence stretches. His jaw flexes once, then relaxes.
“You’re imagining things.” He shrugs, grabs his glass. 
I blink. “I have a wolf, Stephen. I can smell what’s real.”
He sighs, long and heavy, like I’ve disappointed him. Like I’ve asked too much.
“You’re tired,” he says. “Maybe you’re not eating well. You’ve been locked in here too much. Maybe go for a run. Clear your head.”
I nod automatically. “Okay.”
My wolf is growling, but I bury it. He doesn’t like confrontation. That’s what he told me once. And I don’t want to be difficult. I don’t want to be one more person who demands too much from him.
Another pause. 
“It’s probably someone I passed on the street.”
I nod, even though my wolf is pacing now. I grip my napkin under the table. “Of course. That makes sense.”
But the tightness in my chest doesn’t ease.
He stands abruptly. The chair scrapes sharply against the tile. “Are you accusing me of something, Wren?”
“No!” I rush to say, rising too fast. “No, Stephen, not at all. I just—I wanted to ask. That’s all. It’s not like I think you’d do something to hurt me.”
His eyes flash, something too quick and sharp to catch. “Then why bring it up?”
“I just—” My throat tightens. I try to smile again, to smooth the air between us like I always do. “I think when something’s on your mind, it’s better to ask than to let it fester. Right?”
He stares at me for a long beat, then scoffs. “Unbelievable.”
I blink. “What is?”
He paces away from the table, hands raking through his hair. “You’ve been cold to me for weeks. Ever since you moved in, you’ve kept me at arm’s length. No mark. No sex. And now you’re accusing me?”
My heart stumbles. “I didn’t mean it like that—”
“You’re driving me crazy, Wren.” His voice is still calm, but it’s a fragile calm. The kind that could crack.
I lower my gaze. “I told you I wanted to wait. I just want to tell my family first. After thinking through... They deserve to know before—before something that permanent.”
Stephen turns sharply. “And I told you we’re adults. We don’t need permission slips, for fuck’s sake!”
A beat passes. Then another. Then, he confesses, “I kissed someone.”
My chest caves in. I don’t even hear the rest of what he says right away.
My wolf growls.
Stephen keeps talking. His tone clipped now, almost rehearsed. “It was just a moment. And it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so busy playing the good girl to your family, keeping me waiting like a damn monk.”
I take a step back. “Stephen…”
He growls. It’s low. Not fully a shift, but enough to make the hair on my arms rise. He’s an Alpha, after all. 
“You’re living in my house. You sleep in my bed. You act like my mate, but you don’t let me treat you like one.”
“I—I just wanted to introduce you to my family first,” I whisper. “I thought that mattered.”
He laughs once, bitter. “You want me to sit with your perfect famous family while you keep me starving? You don’t even let me claim what’s mine.” His eyes drop to my crotch.
I flinch. “I’m not trying to make things hard—”
“You *are* making things hard.” His voice rises. “You want everything your way. You want time. You want to keep pretending we’re something we’re not. But you won’t even meet me halfway.”
I press a hand to my chest. He’s right. I’m too demanding. “Tell me what you need. Let me make it better.”
His gaze pins me. “Let me mark you tonight.”
The room spins slightly. My breath catches. “Tonight?”
My wolf whines low in my chest.
“If you want this to work, you have to stop pushing me away, Wren. You want things to change? Then change something. Give me something. I want you ever since I’ve laid my eyes on you, baby.”
I nod before I even realize I’m doing it.
“Okay.” My voice is a whisper.
His expression shifts instantly. Like a switch flipped. He smiles. Wide. It hides the edge in his eyes.
“Good girl.”
I shiver. 
I like being a good girl.
Everything’s fine. It will be fine. He’s just under pressure. He’s just stressed. He kissed someone, but that was before. Before I agreed.
Once the bond is complete, it’ll be different.
He’ll feel it. He’ll feel *me*. And then we’ll be closer. Stronger. Like Mom and Dad, Lily and her mates.
Once we switch to his pack for good, everything will settle. All the tension, all the push and pull. It’ll be resolved.
I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes. 
I just have to believe it.
Even if my wolf doesn’t.

🐺 🐺 🐺

I zip up the soft beige dress and smooth the fabric over my waist, trying to shake the odd flutter in my chest. My fingers tremble just slightly as I reach for the necklace Stephen gave me a week ago. A tiny diamond on a delicate chain. Pretty. Thoughtful.
Like him.
I stare at my reflection. The mirror always shows the version of me everyone expects—graceful, gentle Wren. The perfect daughter. 
But lately, it feels like a costume I can’t take off.
My phone buzzes just as I reach for a tube of lip gloss. Ava’s name glows on the screen.
“Finally,” she says the second I answer, her voice bright and teasing. “So you’re alive. I was starting to think someone in Diamond Claw had locked you in a tower.”
I laugh, too quickly. “Sorry. I’ve just been so busy lately. How are you?”
“How am I? How are *you*? If you’d answered your phone once in the last month, you’d know I’m visiting the pack tomorrow.”
My heart skips. “You are?”
“Yeah. My mate’s coming with me, obviously.” Her voice lifts with pride. “You remember him, right? Tall, ridiculous smile, obsessed with tea and my hair?”
“Of course.” I smile, because I mean it. Her fated mate is perfect for her. A bit dark, but warm with her. Funny. Kind.
And Uncle Ethan and Aunt Allie adore him, which is hard to believe in my uncle’s case because the Blackmoon’s late Alpha just adores his family and pack. 
“You should’ve seen my mom when they met him—she cried, happy for us, before he even finished introducing himself. And Az? He grilled him like he was joining the pack’s army, not a dinner.”  
We laugh. Ava met her fated mate in London, and then a few weeks later, her parents and Az went to London to meet him, too.  
Ava talked about her fated mate constantly, and sometimes, Edward’d jump into our conversations like it was the most natural thing in the world. He was always polite to me. Curious. I feel like I know everything about him already. 
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me your studies were over,” Ava says suddenly, and I freeze for a second.
“I—well, they kind of wrapped up quietly. No ceremony or anything,” I say quickly. “Besides, I figured I’d tell you when I saw you. In person.”
She hums suspiciously. “Hmm. You’re hiding something.”
“A surprise isn’t hiding,” I deflect with a smile she can see.
“We’ll see about that.”
“That sounds about right,” I say, twirling a strand of my hair. I change the subject, “I love that your parents are close to your fated mate.”
“Yours won’t be any different when you meet your mate.” I hear a sound like she’s just sitting down. “But you haven’t even told me how your studies ended.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Everything’s just been... a lot.” *Forget about it, Ava, please!*
“A good lot or a bad lot?” she asks, the teasing fading into genuine concern.
I pause. I don’t want to lie to her. Ava’s not just my cousin, she’s my best friend. But I’m not ready to tell her the whole truth, either.
“Good. Mostly. And—I’ll be there tomorrow, too.”
“You’re coming to the pack? Finally! Wait—” Her voice brightens. “Does this have anything to do with that surprise you mentioned?”
“Maybe,” I say sweetly, smiling to myself through the mirror.
“Wren. Tell me.”
“Nope. You’ll find out tomorrow like everyone else.”
“Ugh, you’re evil with me.”
“I’m delightful,” I giggle.
“Fine. But just so you know, I’m bringing someone with us. Well, someone else besides my mate. It’ll be fun. He—”
“Can’t wait.” I glance at the clock. “Ava, I should go.”
She hums. “Tell the tower-keeper I said hi.”
Tower-keeper? What did she know?
I hang up before I have to explain the weight pressing on my lungs.
I take a deep breath to ease it.
Aunt Allie said to trust the Goddess.
I’ve been perfect long enough. Now, I want to be free.
The perfect girl did everything right. But what if I want something different now? 
For once, I want to choose.
I prayed, I waited, I hurt—I whispered my dreams to the stars, but the Moon Goddess never whispered back.
I’ve been waiting for a sign that never came. 
Maybe that was the sign.
If the Moon Goddess won’t answer me, I’ll make my own fate.