Amara.
My boots sank into the soft snow, each step leaving an imprint that vanished almost as soon as it appeared. With every second that passed, my chest tightened.
It was the cold.
At least, that's what I told myself. But I knew—deep down—that the chill had very little to do with the way my heart raced.
"Amara, dear, are you alright?"
I lifted my gaze to my grandmother's worried face. I had only known her for three days, yet it was already clear how deeply she cared for me.
I forced a smile.
"Yes," I lied.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she stepped closer, taking my pale hands into hers, her touch felt warm despite the cold.
"I know this is all new to you," she said gently. "Leaving your mother. Leaving the human world. I can only imagine how hard this must be. But you're not alone here. You never will be."
I nodded, offering a small smile, but said nothing.
This was my first Christmas away from home. And as if that weren't frightening enough, I was spending it among werewolves—expected to become one of them.
I was a hybrid. Born to a human mother and a werewolf father.
We had lived among humans for reasons I still didn't understand. My father never explained much—only that it was safer that way. I knew what he was. I had seen him transform. But I never truly understood what that meant for me.
When he died, whatever answers he carried with him died too.
For years, my mother and I believed her human blood had won because I showed no signs of being the half werewolf that I was. No transformation. No beastly instincts.
We were wrong.
And now, standing at the edge of the Twilight Pack, with snow at my feet and something feral stirring beneath my skin, I understood one terrifying truth—my life as a human was over.
While I was lost in my thoughts, a sharp scent of pine, smoke, and something metallic dragged me back to reality.
I lifted my gaze.
Ahead, warm light spilled from the park hall my grandmother and I were headed toward. Inside, human and wolf figures moved freely among one another.
I paused. My pulse quickened. I was still getting used to seeing wolves walk so openly in their true forms. But more than that, I didn't know if I could ever grow comfortable in a place so crowded—so full of eyes.
I tried to move forward, but my feet felt heavy. My back felt cold, and my head began to spin.
"Amara?"
I glanced at my grandmother. She offered me a warm, reassuring smile, and for a moment, the tightness in my chest eased. I gathered what little courage I could and forced myself to take another step.
The moment I entered the hall, my limbs stiffened. Murmurs rose around me, low but unmistakable, and I knew without looking that the stares were meant for me.
Sensing my discomfort, my grandmother quickly guided me toward an empty corner of the hall—quiet, less crowded—and motioned for me to sit beside her.
I clasped my hands in my lap, careful not to breathe too loudly. I avoided meeting anyone's gaze, but I couldn't help noticing just how many people had gathered. And that number didn't even include the wolves.
The sheer size of the crowd wrecked my nerves even further.
To steady myself, I focused on the intricate carvings along the wooden walls instead.
"How shameless."
My ears perked at the harsh whisper. I turned instinctively toward the sound. Two older women sat nearby, their eyes fixed on me with open disdain.
My heart dropped. I turned away quickly, my breathing uneven.
"That cunning woman seduced Lukas and made him abandon the park," one of them muttered. "And now that he's dead, she dumps that abomination back here?"
They were talking about me.
And if they truly were…They were wrong.
My father died when I was six, that was fifteen years ago. My mother had raised me alone—lovingly, fiercely. Coming here had been my decision, not hers.
But as doubt crept in, I wondered if I had made a terrible mistake.
"How dare you run your filthy mouth when you know nothing!"
I looked up in shock as my grandmother rose to her feet, fury blazing across her features.
"What did you just say?" one of the women growled, starting to stand.
My grandmother didn't retreat. She stepped forward, stopping inches from the woman's face.
"I asked where you found the audacity to speak about my family," she snarled. "Mutt."
The hall fell deathly silent.
Before the woman could rise, my grandmother forced her back into her seat with one hand. I stared in disbelief as she subdued her effortlessly.
Her eyes darkened—black and beastly—as she leaned closer.
"Say it again," she growled.
The two women were frozen, terrified into silence.
I started to stand, my heart pounding, when a calm, authoritative voice cut through the tension.
"Elder Zora," it said. "That's enough."
The silence that followed the voice was deafening. No one moved or breathed. Including me.
Thud… thud… thud
The sound of the steady footsteps broke the silence. It was unhurried, measured and slow.
I didn't need to look to know who that voice might have belonged to.
The atmosphere shifted with something so heavy, I couldn't quite name. Beneath my skin, my instincts stirred. It was a restless and confusing feeling that urged me to turn.
When I did, he was already there.
The alpha stood not too far away, tall and broad-shouldered. He had a presence which effortlessly commanded. He didn't glare or yell, but his calm was far more intimidating than any anger could have been.
No one dared to speak. It was as if the hall itself had bowed.
For a brief moment, his eyes swept over the room. Then, they finally settled on my grandmother.
"Elder Zora," he called, his voice low but steady. "You've made your point."
I watched my grandmother as her hand still pressed firmly against the woman's shoulder, her gaze still dark and burning. For a second, I thought she might argue. But, she soon withdrew reluctantly.
The woman sank into her seat, pale and shaking.
After rendering my grandmother a nod, he turned his attention to the two women.
"Disrespecting a guest is a violation of pack law," he said. "But disrespecting my elders is a violation of my authority."
His words settled heavily over everyone in the hall.
"You will leave this gathering," he continued. "Both of you. And you will reflect on your characters."
Neither woman dared to protest. They only rose and hurried towards the exit as their shame followed closely behind.
After they left, the alpha turned to me.
For a minute, I forgot how to breathe.
His grey eyes, filled with intent, met mine. In that moment , I found myself both allured and intimidated by him.
He didn't smile. His expression didn't soften. But there was something in his gaze that slightly shifted. It made me wonder what he saw when he looked at me.
"As long as I am Alpha," he said, calmly. "And as long as you live here, you are my pack's member. So, welcome, Amara Krieg, to the Twilight Pack."