Episode 4

The delicate chain was white gold—a necessary compromise for a species vulnerable to silver. Five tiny, intricate charms hung from it, each a carefully chosen piece of my biography: the initials A and N intertwined, a miniature snarling wolf, a perfect, regal crown, a simple heart, and a butterfly caught mid-flight.

A sharp, breathless gasp escaped me. It wasn't just beautiful; it was me.

“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked, her voice tight with nervous anticipation.

I finally managed to look up, nodding violently. “Like it? I love it.” I carefully set the bracelet back on the table before wrapping my arms around her. “It’s absolutely stunning.”

Charlotte sighed. “I know. It looked better in silver, but…” She trailed off, glancing down at the polished white metal.

I laughed, understanding her worry. Genuine silver—the tragically beautiful, real stuff—was agony for werewolves; it burned and weakened us instantly. This white gold was the safe, perfect alternative.

“It was my idea,” Asher announced, stepping forward with a smug grin.

I hugged him, but Charlotte immediately smacked his arm. “Don’t lie! Your only idea was the letters.”

“It was still a good idea!” Asher protested.

Everyone chuckled. I tightened my embrace around him. “It was a great idea. Thank you, Asher,” I said sincerely.

He beamed. “Thanks, kiddo.”

I frowned at the familiar nickname.

He only laughed. “Sorry, you’re still a kid. Legally, you’re an adult, sure, but to me, an adult is someone who can go bar-hopping.”

“I can go bar-hopping,” I countered, knowing full well it would be illegal under human decree.

“That would be illegal. So instead, we’re going to go pack-hopping,” he declared, his smile widening.

Pack-hopping?

“What the hell is pack-hopping?” Dad voiced the question hanging in the air.

“Like bar-hopping, but with packs,” Asher said in a tone dripping with mock condescension.

Silence met his explanation.

“We’re going from pack to pack,” he clarified, rolling his eyes as if we were all dullards. “We’re going pack-hopping so Ari can find her mate.”

Charlotte released a high-pitched squeal. “I completely forgot! He’s going to be the best mate ever!” If she wasn’t currently pregnant, I knew she would be bouncing off the walls like a teenager. Despite being a couple of decades older than me, Charlotte, Asher, and my parents had a habit of acting like perpetually young adults.

“Wow. That’s not offensive at all,” Asher muttered, pouting until Charlotte instantly kissed his cheek, making him melt into a grateful grin. The power of the mate bond—instant, overwhelming happiness.

“I’m going to have a talk with him before anything happens,” Asher announced, cracking his knuckles.

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed, a sudden, lethal sharpness replacing her joy. “You are going to chase away her mate before I even get to meet him?!” she exclaimed.

Asher literally paled, taking a cautious step back. Rule number one: Never, ever cross a pregnant Luna.

“I’ll just make sure he’s good for Ari,” he defended weakly. Charlotte still managed to swat the back of his head.

“Of course he’s good for her! The Moon Goddess wouldn’t pick someone who isn’t perfect for Ari. She deserves the best!” Charlotte threw her hands up, exasperated.

“Let’s go talk about that Alpha stuff now,” Dad interjected, saving Asher from the pregnant fury. Asher nodded gratefully, and they walked off.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Charlotte asked me, still vibrating with excitement.

I truly had no idea. The day had already been amazing—great breakfast, a perfect gift, and family time. I should probably pack for the trip, but what did I need?

“Shopping trip,” I announced.

Charlotte and Mom exchanged knowing smiles, and soon we were off to the mall.

The haul included a few nice shirts, some black jeans, three new leather jackets, a couple of dresses, and brand-new boots.

When Mom, Charlotte, and I walked back into the house, Dad and Asher were still talking. How much did they possibly have left to discuss? We’d been gone for hours.

“They’re just finalizing the details for the trip,” Mom reassured me.

I nodded and went straight to my bedroom. I mixed my new purchases with favorite outfits, packed all my necessities into a separate messenger bag, and set the luggage by the bed.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” I called, lying down on the duvet.

The door creaked open, and Aaron, my six-year-old brother, peered in. “Ari?”

I sat up, leaning against the headboard. Without asking, Aaron scrambled onto the bed and rested his head on my lap.

“How was your nap?” I asked, weaving my fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“Still sleepy,” he mumbled. I chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

“Ari?”

I hummed a response.

“Mommy said that you’re leaving soon.” I felt a sudden damp pressure against my leggings.

I stopped playing with his hair and pulled him upright. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. I settled him onto my chest, wiped his face, and kissed his forehead.

“Just for a little while, sweet boy. To find my mate,” I told him, trying for a small, comforting smile.

Aaron frowned. “But Daddy said outside isn’t safe.”

“My mate will protect me. And Asher is coming with me,” I promised.

“But what about Aunt Charlotte? Won’t she miss him?”

I nodded. “So you’ll have to keep her company. You have to keep Mommy company too.”

“Yeah. Because her and Daddy will miss you.” He nervously twisted the hem of my shirt.

“I’m going to miss you too, Aaron.” He sniffled and started crying again. I shushed him, rocking him gently in my lap. “I’ll be back very soon. I promise.”

He nodded against my shoulder and, exhausted by his tears, quickly drifted back to sleep in my arms.

Not long after, I found myself drifting off, too. This was the last night here for what could be a month or more. The last night in my own bed, the last night holding Aaron. Everything was about to change. I would be Queen. I would have a mate. With those enormous thoughts settling in, I finally fell asleep.

“Ari.” A soft hand lightly shook me awake. “Time to get up.”

I slowly opened my eyes and saw my mother standing over the bed. “Asher’s here. He’s waiting for you,” she informed me.

I nodded and she slipped out. I carefully slid out from under Aaron, making sure not to wake him. He stirred but remained asleep. I watched him for a moment. Despite our twelve-year age difference, Aaron was my anchor. He could be utterly annoying—as any six-year-old could be—but I knew he loved me fiercely and looked up to me.

I sighed, got dressed in light gray sweats, a white crop-top, and Converse, and walked to the kitchen.

Asher was sitting at the table with my parents. All three heads snapped up the moment I entered. I dragged my bags to the wall and sat down.

“Are you ready?” Mom asked.

Mentally? No. Physically? As much as I’d ever be.

I nodded. “Let’s go pack-hopping.”

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