Chapter 6
I splashed ice-cold water on my face, trying to shock myself awake. Last night's restless sleep left me feeling drained, with fragments of dreams still clinging to my consciousness. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alpha Charles's naked form illuminated by moonlight—a memory I desperately needed to erase.
A knock at the door startled me. Mom pushed it open, her expression tired but expectant.
"Margaret, Beta Dylan is here. Says he's taking us to our new home. Get ready quickly."
I nodded, gathering my few belongings. Part of me was eager to leave the packhouse after last night's mortifying encounter, but another part dreaded putting down roots in this strange pack. The thought of starting over in Sunrise Peak made my stomach twist with anxiety.
Outside, Beta Dylan waited in the yard. He was tall and lean, with short dark hair that complemented his olive complexion. His deep blue jacket hung loosely on his frame, hands shoved into his pockets as he observed us with detached interest.
"Let's go," he said flatly when he saw us. "Your new place is ready. It's a bit of a distance from the packhouse, but the setting is nice. Car's waiting."
The drive was silent and tense. I watched through the window as buildings gave way to dense forest, tall pines creating tunnels of green. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the road. The air grew fresher, filled with the scent of pine and wild herbs. After about twenty minutes, we pulled into a small clearing.
"This is your new home," Dylan announced, pointing toward a wooden structure. "Not many neighbors around. Quiet. Good for adjusting to your new environment. If you need anything, contact me directly."
I climbed out of the car and took in what would be our home. It was a two-story cabin made of dark brown logs, with a deep green shingled roof. Despite its age, the place looked well-maintained. The surrounding area featured a flat grassy clearing dotted with wildflowers, while dense forest stretched in every direction, partly shrouded in morning mist like it was wearing a thin veil.
The air smelled of earth and grass, and I could hear the gentle murmur of a stream nearby. Despite my reservations, I had to admit the scenery was beautiful—like a secluded haven, offering a tranquility I hadn't felt in a long time.
When we pushed open the front door, the scent of wood and a slight mustiness greeted us. The interior was simple but cozy. The first floor featured a spacious living room with an open kitchen. A brown fabric sofa faced a wooden coffee table, while a massive black brick fireplace dominated one wall. The kitchen had dark wooden cabinets and a countertop with basic cooking equipment.
Upstairs, we found three bedrooms and a small study. Each bedroom contained a wooden bed and wardrobe, with light gray cotton curtains covering the windows. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating even the corners of the rooms, making dust particles dance in the beams like tiny fairies. The whole place had the unmistakable smell of being locked up too long.
"This is... better than I expected," Dad said, setting down his bag and patting my shoulder. "Maggie, help your mom get settled. Let's make this place home as quickly as possible."
Mom rolled up her sleeves, determination written across her face. "It may be far from the packhouse, but that's probably for the best. Quiet. A fresh start for our family."
I nodded, grabbing a cloth to wipe down the dusty furniture. We spent most of the day cleaning and arranging our meager possessions. Mom's pots and pans found their place in the kitchen, fresh linens covered the beds, and the few plants we'd brought from our old home brightened the windowsills.
By evening, the cabin had started to feel like ours. I stood in the doorway, watching the sunset cast golden light across the clearing. The forest's silhouette looked softer and more mysterious in the fading light. A cool breeze brushed against my skin, and I took a deep breath, trying to release the tension I'd been carrying.
Maybe here, far from Gregory Pack's shadows, we could actually start anew.
After dinner, my parents retired early, exhausted from the day's work. I lay in bed, unable to sleep despite my fatigue. My mind was cluttered with images from yesterday's blood oath ceremony and Charles's penetrating gaze. Every time I tried to close my eyes, memories played like a slideshow—his hand gripping mine, his chest against my back, his naked form in the moonlight.
I tossed and turned, my eyelids growing heavy while my mind remained frustratingly alert.
Sometime in the night, I jerked awake, heart racing. An inexplicable unease settled over me, as if I were being watched. Frowning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, peering out the window.
The forest was pitch black, with only moonlight creating patches of silver on the ground. Everything was eerily quiet. Just as I was about to dismiss my anxiety as paranoia, my gaze locked onto something that made my heart nearly stop.
Standing in the clearing not far from my window was an enormous silver wolf.
My breath caught, my pulse hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. The wolf's fur gleamed in the moonlight, like flowing liquid silver, beautiful in a way that seemed almost unreal. Its powerful, athletic build spoke of raw strength—long limbs, smooth muscle, and an aura of primal power. Its ears were slightly perked, tail low, posture both elegant and alert.
Most striking were its eyes—deep silver orbs that reminded me of a stormy ocean, calm on the surface but turbulent beneath. Those eyes locked directly onto mine with such intensity and scrutiny that I felt they could see straight through to my soul.
My heart pounded even harder, threatening to burst from my chest. Then, in a blink, the wolf's form shimmered and vanished, as if it had melted into the moonlight itself.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Nothing remained but empty grass and silent forest.
Swallowing hard, I tried to calm myself. "Maggie, you must be seeing things," I whispered. "There couldn't possibly be a wolf just standing there, staring at you..."
But I couldn't shake the image from my mind. Those silver eyes seemed etched into my memory, impossible to dismiss.
Pulling the curtains closed, I crawled back under my covers, trying to use the blanket as a shield against my unease. Those eyes kept flashing in my mind.
Who was that? We lived quite far from others. Perhaps it was one of Sunrise Peak's patrol members checking on the place?
Eventually, exhaustion pulled me back into sleep, but the silver wolf followed me even into my dreams.
I woke to sunlight streaming through my window, painting golden patterns across my bedroom floor. After several days in our new cabin on the edges of Sunrise Peak territory, I was gradually adjusting to the quieter rhythm of life here. Each morning, birdsong replaced the blaring alarm that had once jolted me awake in Gregory Pack.
Stretching, I gazed out at the forest beyond our clearing. Dad was already outside, chopping firewood near the tree line, his steady rhythm echoing through the morning air. Through the window, I could see Mom in the small clearing behind the house, alternating between practicing combat moves and tending to her herb garden.
The peaceful scene should have brought me comfort. Instead, my mind kept drifting back to Alpha Charles. More specifically, to Oscar—his massive silver wolf with those penetrating silver eyes that seemed to look straight through me. The memory of that wolf standing in our clearing nights ago still sent shivers down my spine. Something about those eyes felt impossibly intense, almost... familiar.
Every night when I closed my eyes, that silver gaze appeared in my mind, making my heart race in a way I couldn't explain. The connection I felt was both thrilling and confusing. I'd never experienced anything like it before.
With a sigh, I pulled myself from bed. No matter how isolated our cabin was, I couldn't hide from reality forever. We were part of Sunrise Peak Pack now, even if we lived on its fringes.
After breakfast, I helped Mom sort herbs and training equipment on the living room table. The familiar scent of dried rosemary and sage mixed with the leather polish she used on her training pads brought a small comfort. It was one of the few things that still felt normal.
A sharp knock at the door made me freeze.
Mom and I exchanged glances before I moved to answer it. When I pulled the door open, my entire body went rigid.
Alpha Charles Howard stood on our porch, dressed in a deep gray suit jacket over a crisp white shirt. His blue-black hair gleamed in the morning light, swept back except for a few strands that fell across his forehead. His expression was impassive, those silver eyes cold and unfathomable.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes directly. Heat crept into my cheeks as memories of our awkward encounters flooded back—my mortifying clumsiness during the blood oath ceremony, and worst of all, accidentally seeing him naked in the moonlight. God, I wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear.
"Margaret," his deep voice broke the silence, steady and commanding with the unmistakable authority of an Alpha. "I need to speak with Simon. Is he available?"
I felt my throat tighten. "Y-yes, Alpha," I managed, my voice barely audible. I turned and called out, "Dad! Alpha Charles is here to see you!"
Then I stepped aside, pretending to busy myself with the herbs on the table, though my shaking hands made organizing anything nearly impossible. I wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Dad emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Alpha," he said, his tone respectful but casual. "What can I do for you?"
Charles's attention shifted from me to my father, his expression serious. "Simon, we have a situation in the Pack. Several members have fallen ill with unusual symptoms—fever, weakness, and in some cases, an inability to shift or control their wolves."
My ears perked up at this information, though I kept my head down.
"Wesley and our herbalist have been unable to determine the cause," Charles continued. "I heard you dealt with something similar when you were with Gregory Pack. I was hoping you might offer some insight."
Dad's brow furrowed in concentration. "Of course, Alpha. I'll do whatever I can to help figure this out."
"Have you noticed any patterns?" Dad asked, his mind clearly already working through possibilities. "Specific demographics affected? When did it start? Any geographic concentration within the territory?"
Charles nodded, seeming pleased with the questions. "Most cases are concentrated in the eastern part of our territory, near the mountain water sources. It started about two weeks ago."
Dad listened intently, his expression growing more focused with each detail. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed the information.
Standing there listening, I felt a sudden, powerful urge welling up inside me. Before I could think better of it, I lifted my head and looked directly at Charles.
"Alpha," I said, my voice trembling slightly but determined. "I... I'd like to help too."
Both men turned to look at me with surprise.
Since arriving in Sunrise Peak, I'd felt like an outsider—a burden to be tolerated. Aside from the blood oath ceremony, I hadn't had any opportunity to prove my worth to the Pack. My father was a Beta, my mother a fierce warrior, and I was... what? Just the Wolf-less girl they had to protect.
I didn't want to be passive anymore. I wanted—needed—to show I could contribute something valuable.
"I know I don't have my father's experience," I continued, heart pounding, "but I could assist him. Do whatever needs to be done. I want to contribute to the Pack."
Charles's silver eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. I held my breath, hands clenched at my sides, terrified he would laugh or dismiss me outright.
To my surprise, after a moment of silence, he gave a single nod. "Alright. Since you're willing, you can go with Simon. Follow his lead and don't get in the way."