Amara.
I walked behind Grandmother and Vance, my thoughts anywhere but the present.
I couldn't wait for night to fall.
And yet—I feared it just as much.
Whatever awaited me tonight, I knew one thing for certain: it would mark the beginning of something unforgettable in my life.
"I was going to check on Seraphina and Lance," Grandmother said, halting suddenly. She turned to us. "Since you're both here, would you like to come along?"
"Yes," I replied without hesitation.
"Sure," Vance added.
It was only my second time inside the pack house, yet it still overwhelmed me. From the outside, its size had already been intimidating—but inside, it was something else entirely.
Calling it a house felt almost disrespectful.
A royal estate fit it better.
As we walked through the vast halls toward the western clinic, I found myself shrinking with every step.
People stared. It shouldn't have mattered because of Grandmother and Vance's positions in the pack. But the eyes weren't following them; they followed me.
Their gazes lingered—too long, too curious, too invasive. And in that moment, a sobering thought settled into my chest: I wouldn't survive living here, in the pack house.
The thought made me grateful all over again that grandmother accepted me under her wings instead of the pack house.
By the time we reached the clinic, my shoulders ached with tension.
"Gently, Dad—gently!" Seraphina's sharp voice greeted us before we even entered.
Inside, the scene was exactly what I expected.
Despite her injuries, Seraphina sat comfortably on the bed, her feet resting in Lance's lap while he dutifully massaged them. Their father tended to the wound on her arm, his brows knitted in concentration.
"Ouch!" she hissed as disinfectant touched her skin.
Grandmother and Vance shook their heads in unison.
I only felt relieved. If Seraphina could still be this dramatic, she would be fine.
Conversation flowed easily after that. And like always, I chose to remain quiet and listen to them talk instead of joining in.
Strangely, no one mentioned the rogue attack. Or my transformation.
It was as if an unspoken agreement had been made—to pretend none of it had happened.
Lance remained quiet the entire time. He communicated only with nods and brief murmurs, stealing glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking.
Unfortunately for him, I noticed every single time.
Eventually, Grandmother announced it was time to leave because she was hungry, and tired. So was I.
The house felt quieter when we returned. Emptier without Seraphina's presence.
As we prepared dinner together, Grandmother suddenly broke the silence.
"Amara."
The knife in my hand paused mid-chop. "Yes?"
She turned to me, her expression uncharacteristically sharp. "You remember who I told you to be wary of, don't you?"
I nodded. "Elder Velma. And Elder Yva."
Her lips pressed thin. "Velma especially. That fox is the worst…make sure to have nothing to do with her. Ever!"
A chill ran down my spine.
Dinner passed quietly after that. Then afterwards, I retreated to my room.
As I entered the room, I noticed how sunset painted the walls in shades of amber and gold—and that was when it hit me.
Night was falling.
Him.
My wolf stirred as the image of him surfaced in my mind.
After bathing, I brushed the lengthened strands of my hair slowly. I missed Seraphina all over again. I needed someone to trim it for me, after all, I wasn't the most skilled person when it came to cutting anything.
After I finished combing the hair, I reached for my pajamas—and stopped.
No.
Not tonight.
What followed after that hesitation was a silent war with my wardrobe. Dresses discarded over and over again. Doubts piling with each passing second.
The red sleeveless dress mom bought me for prom last three years still fit, but it was too sparkly and glamorous—not quite the fit for an Alpha's visit.
The black, bare-back one was too short and skimpy for the weather.
The white was too white. The blue too blue. And the yellow, not quite the right choice either.
In the end, I chose the baby-pink lace dress. It was simple. Safe. And it was perfect no matter the number of times I've worn it.
Afterwards, I sat at the edge of my bed, watching the sky slowly darken.
8:00 p.m.
"Amara."
His deep, breeze-like voice brushed against my mind.
I stood instantly.
"Come."
I didn't look through the window to confirm if he was even there. I just hurried out of the house without the slightest hesitation.
My steps were quick, almost rushed. And in my mind, there was not a single thought, just the image of him.
When I finally arrived at that spot behind my window, I slowed and started to take cautious steps towards him
Up close, he was… more handsome than I had realized.
All the times I saw him after coming to Everlone, his perculiar scent had been my impression of him. It made me overlook all the other special features that made him.
Like his rare off-white hair for instance. It simmered under the moonlight. I had wondered once if it was dyed, but looking at it reminded me of a certain white furry friend of mine.
The color was unique.
With each step, I noticed something new. The sharp elegance of his facial features. The hint of blue in his piercing grey eyes. The thin scar on his jaw. And the mole that sat at the tip of his nose.
I would have loved to see the other unique features scattered across his body.
And that was when my eyes dipped lower before I could stop myself. I unconsciously took in his deep toned chest, his unusually thin waist. His big, muscular arms. The black tank top he wore did an excellent job exhibiting his sculpture-like body.
"Amara?"
I snapped back to his face. A knowing smile curved his lips. And the reality of my actions dawned on me then.
Heat flooded my cheeks. Then I covered my mouth with the back of my hand and turned my face.
He laughed softly. Which made me look back at him all too soon. I had never seen him smile, let alone laugh. His laughter sounded rhythmic. It sounded warm. Human.
"Let's walk, Amara," he said when his laughter subsided.
I nodded bashfully, and hurried to stand beside him.
"Forgive me," he said quietly.
"For what?" I blurted.
"For not being there sooner…for failing to protect you," he confessed.
My chest tightened. "You came. That's what matters."
It was strange how easy it was talking to him. It didn't feel like I was speaking to the person with the highest authority in Twilight Pack.
His gaze lingered on my face for a while before looking away. "Still…" his voice settled into something quieter than a whisper, but I still caught the words that followed. "...I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you."
Before the weight of his words could overwhelm me, I asked, "You're L… right?"
He blinked. "L?"
My heart dropped.
If fainting came easily to me as every one else, I would have fainted that instant.
Was he not L? The only reason I was so unguarded towards him was because I thought he was —well, also because his personality then felt much easy to converse with, unlike his usual Alphaly one.
Still…
Then he laughed—much loudly and hearty this time.
I stood there, mouth and eyes slightly widened.
Was he teasing me?
"Step back, Amara."
I obeyed.
Bones cracked. Fur rippled. In seconds, the massive white wolf stood before me—radiant under the full moon.
L.
My wolf surged forward, calm but alert. She didn't go back to sleep, just lingering right under the first layer of my skin.
But I didn't force her down because it didn't seem like she was going to lose control anytime soon.
In that moment, Lucien walked up and lowered himself before me, ears back. He looked nearly submissive.
The sight was adorable, but it felt mystical somehow.
You are here, his voice echoed gently in my mind.