Chapter 4 — The Meeting
Amber's gaze dropped, her fingers gripping the windowsill as the cold wind slipped into the room, curling around her shoulders. She hugged herself tightly, trying to keep the memories from swallowing her whole.
Lost in memories of her last talk with her mother, she was startled by a sudden knock at the door. The sound jarred her from her thoughts. The door creaked open without waiting for an answer.
"What are you doing here?" Amber asked sharply as her stepmother stepped inside.
Liza Conri's lips curved into a victorious smirk that Amber immediately distrusted.
"Pack your things. Bri will pick you up before sunrise," Liza announced, her tone infuriatingly casual.
Amber blinked. "What? Tomorrow!? I haven't even had a chance to say goodbye to my staff at Luna Café!"
"You're being dramatic," Liza replied with a scoff. "You'll see them again. This isn't forever. Don't be so sentimental." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor fading down the hallway.
Amber stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. Every part of her wanted to shout, to hurl the truth into Liza's face, to tear down whatever smug wall she always seemed to hide behind.
But she didn't.
Instead, she swallowed the rage until it burned like fire in her chest.
Her eyes began to sting—not from tears, but from the heat that was building within her.
Her vision tinged red. Her breath came faster, harsher. The muscles in her arms and legs tightened as if ready for battle. Her claws pushed through her fingertips, and the familiar prickle of fur spreading over her skin followed. Her body shifted without her willing it.
The transformation was raw, unrestrained.
Amber didn't stop to think. She sprinted to the window, leapt through it in one smooth motion, and landed hard against the earth outside. The night air was sharp against her fur as she bolted into the forest. Branches clawed at her, scraping against skin and tearing tufts of fur, but she didn't slow down. The sting of the cuts was nothing compared to the weight inside her. She pushed herself harder, the world around her becoming a blur of shadow and silver light. She ran until the ground sloped upward beneath her paws, the hillside drawing her higher and higher. Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her heart pounded, not from the run, but from everything she had kept bottled for far too long.
At the crest of the hill, she stopped.
The forest stretched endlessly below, the moon casting a pale glow over the treetops. For a moment, it almost looked peaceful. But Amber knew better.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her mind churned with memories she wished she could erase—moments where she had been too slow, too powerless, too... late.
Her throat tightened.
Tilting her head back, she let out a long, unrestrained howl. It tore from her chest, sharp and aching, echoing across the valley. It was not just a sound—it was a confession, a plea, and a curse all at once. When the final note faded into the night, Amber stood trembling, her legs suddenly weak. She sank to the ground, lying in the cool grass.
The world felt quiet again. Too quiet.
But she was not alone.
From the shadows, a tall figure stood hidden behind a fallen log, his body still as stone. His sapphire eyes glimmered under the moonlight, focused entirely on her.
Zach.
He had been there the whole time, watching silently. He had heard her howl, felt the weight of her grief as if it were his own.
For most, his gift of reading minds was an advantage. But tonight... it was a curse.
Because this pain—this raw, unfiltered pain—belonged to his mate.His fingers curled slightly at his sides as he fought the urge to go to her. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, drawing on his other gift—the ability to weave thoughts into the minds of others.
But he did not intrude.
He only wrapped her mind in warmth, like a blanket on a cold night. A psychic embrace, invisible but real.
A silent vow.
He would not let her break.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
The forest was quiet except for the whisper of the wind through the leaves. Shadows stretched long across the ground, shifting with the swaying branches.
Zach lingered there—half-hidden in the dark—his broad frame blending seamlessly with the trees. He wasn't even sure why he stayed. Wolves were intuitive creatures, and Amber... she could probably sense him from the moment he arrived.
But still, he didn't leave.
Something about her kept him rooted in place. Watching her, even from a distance, stirred something deep inside him—a strange, unspoken satisfaction he didn't know how to name.
Amber lay on the grass below, her golden-brown fur catching threads of moonlight. Her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. In that moment, she looked almost fragile—though he knew she was far from it. There was strength in her, quiet but fierce, and it was that balance—serenity mixed with fire—that both fascinated and unsettled him.
A flicker of warmth rose in his chest, creeping up his throat until it settled in his cheeks. The heat was unfamiliar, unwelcome. He forced himself to take a step back, to put space between them before he did something reckless—
Crack.
The brittle snap of a dry branch cut through the stillness.
Amber's ears twitched instantly. Her eyes snapped open, glowing faintly under the moonlight. She stayed still for a beat, her body low to the ground, listening.
The wind shifted, carrying with it the faintest trace of another presence. She knew she wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" she called softly, her voice laced with tension.
Her form shimmered, bones shifting until the wolf within her stood tall and alert. Her senses sharpened; every rustle, every flutter of leaves seemed louder. Her gaze scanned the treeline until it caught on a shadow that moved with purpose—not like prey, but like someone who belonged to the night.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, his stance exuding strength and authority. Even without seeing his face, she felt the weight of his aura.
"Show yourself," her voice echoed in thought, her mental tone low and edged with a growl.
From the darkness, Zach stepped forward, the moonlight spilling over him in silver streaks. His black coat caught the glow, and his sharp sapphire eyes met hers without hesitation.
Easy... I'm not here to harm you, his voice brushed against her mind—calm, steady, unthreatening.
Amber blinked, startled. "You?" she exclaimed aloud. "What are you doing here?"
Zach's expression was unreadable, his voice still low and even.
"I was walking. You showed up. You seemed... distant. So I kept to myself and watched."
She tilted her head, uncertain. His tone was softer than she expected, nothing like the cold, arrogant Alpha she had heard about. She narrowed her eyes slightly, studying him.
He seems... normal. Kind, even. Is this the same man everyone warns me about?
Zach's eyebrow quirked upward. "Don't look at me like I'm your prey," he said with a faint smirk, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to hint that he'd heard her thoughts.
Her ears pinned back in embarrassment. She turned her gaze away, a quiet, low moan rumbling in her throat.
The silence stretched between them—not awkward, exactly, but charged with something neither wanted to name.
Finally, Zach spoke again, his tone softer.
"I should go. I'll see you at the house later. Don't forget."
Amber looked at him, catching an expression she wasn't prepared for—there was no arrogance there, only a kind of honesty she rarely saw in people. And for reasons she couldn't explain, that honesty made her feel... safe.
What is it with this guy? Why does he make me feel this way? she thought, her mind a whirl.
Zach, of course, caught the thought again. His lips twitched in the faintest smile, but he didn't comment. Instead, he removed his hat with a small, respectful bow before melting back into the shadows.
Amber stood there long after he was gone, her mind spinning.
⸻.