Chapter 4

Light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, still following my strict routine. Despite being late at night, I never missed my 4 am alarm. The familiar walls of my bedroom provided a comforting presence. Today, I planned to join the pack for traditional training exercises. Last night, I searched my mother's things for something to wear to meet Alpha Brock, only finding white gloves. She didn't have the wig and sunglasses I'd asked for, but I wasn't surprised werewolves like us didn't concern ourselves with such human accessories. Her puzzled look made it clear she thought I might be crazy.

Exhausted from training, I returned to my room to shower away the sweat. My busy schedule had me rushing to the mall at nine, following breakfast with the pack at six. There, I'd catch up with friends, sharing the latest news on relationships and achievements.

I was set to wear a tailored grey skirt, a white sweater, and heels for the meeting, which was a far cry from my usual jeans and hoodie. I felt uneasy shifting from an unnoticed student to a well-dressed woman who stood out—one of the reasons I had avoided attention and any expectations of becoming a Luna. I had bigger dreams beyond the pack, and luckily, none of the suitors at my University seemed to know I am a werewolf.

Today's transformation was unprecedented for my family. Subtle makeup enhancements—an ephemeral veil of silver eyeshadow, capitalized by natural rosy lips—completed my metamorphosis. Spinning before the mirror, I admired the reflection. My golden locks, typically free and flowing, I prepared to mask under a brunette façade. This ruse aimed to keep my identity, especially from Alpha Brock, a well-guarded secret.

My siblings catcalled as I descended the stairs. "Really, guys? It's just a skirt and a blouse. Seriously, get over it!"

My mother's white gloves adorning my hands, I headed for my car, affectionately bidding my "J" series Jaguar a good morning before speeding towards the mall.

I couldn't help but grimace as I whizzed by Alpha Brock's lavish glass edifice, ducking at the sight of him outside. "I must be out of my mind," I muttered after passing, chastising myself for skirting so close to the risk of recognition.

The new look I got from the mall—a fake brunette wig that fell to my shoulders and dark sunglasses—boosted my confidence. I couldn't help but silently laugh, thinking about how Alpha would have no idea what's coming. As formalities ended, the meeting started with my father and brother at my side. The main topic, Alpha Brock's offer to combine his pack with our smaller yet richer one, sparked my rebellious spirit.

"My apologies, Alpha Brock, but although we're fewer in number, we surpass you in wealth and possess essential skills for the royal army," I said confidently, my voice steady. I firmly rejected his proposal, hidden behind a guise of bargaining.

Shock registered on his features as I interrupted the escalating tension with a raised hand, signaling my family to remain seated. My father was sending me a mental reprimand via our mind-link, I promptly silenced him with a mental wall—my focus resolutely on Brock.

Shooting up from my chair, Alpha Brock did the same. He moved closer, and tension filled the tight space between us. My inner wolf's urges clashed with my resolve to stand firm.

"You're treading dangerous waters, she-wolf," he breathed into my ear, both an admonishment and something that stirred deeper fires within me.

Retreating a step, I demanded, "Will you welcome us, Alpha, or shall we look elsewhere for our ventures?"

Our standoff ended with his scrutinizing gaze, searching mine behind the sunglasses. "Have we met before?" His words carried a hint of recognition.

I got to my feet and gave Alpha Brock a straight-up glare. There is no greater sign of disrespect than giving a powerful Alpha the finger and expecting him to back off from the topic at hand.

Frustration masked by cool poise, I pivoted away with a parting ultimatum, "Your answer by morning, Alpha."

Outside, my heart churned with unresolved turmoil, I observed the inner workings of the restaurant from within the comforting confines of my Jaguar. Through the window, my father was visible, earnestly apologizing for my actions. I shook my head in disbelief; didn't he realize that with someone like Alpha Brock, it's firmness and resolve that would make an impact, not submission and regret?

My brother, a mixture of concern and levity in his voice, hastened to my side. "Your weeks from a straitjacket in Dad's eyes, Stephi," he joked, proposing an impromptu run with our wolves—a rare invitation I accepted with a nod.

Refusing at first to yield the keys to my prized possession, playing tug of war with my keys, but I eventually caved. Sitting in the passenger seat, I was sure that my brother could see the bond between Brock and me, I knew I couldn't hide it from him; he always saw right through me.