"Aurelia, sweetheart—wake up. You could sleep through a thunderstorm."
My mother's voice glided into the room just before sunlight did. The curtains ripped open with a whisper, flooding the small bedroom with morning gold. I winced and rolled over, burying half my face in the woven blanket. If she knew I hadn't slept at all, she wouldn't be so cheerful.
Not after the mating proposal I'd received last night.
Lucien Thorn. Of all people.
My pulse jumped just thinking of his name. He had spent our childhood years teasing me from the shadows of the training grounds—nothing cruel, but sharp enough to leave an ache. And now he thought we could be mates? Just because we were older? Just because the pack expected it?
No. Not when I still had unanswered questions about myself—questions too heavy, too strange to ignore.
"Aureia," my mother warned, "don't make me yank you out of that bed."
"I'm up, I'm up." I sat up slowly, my hair a tangled halo, my mind even messier. Maybe today she'd let me hide just this once. I wasn't ready to talk about Lucien. Or mating. Or why my heart felt like it was being squeezed every time someone brought it up.
But in an omega household, avoidance wasn't luxury—it was fantasy.
I forced myself downstairs. The moment my bare feet touched the cool wooden floor, I sensed something off. A faint whisper—no, several—brushed against my ears. Conversations happening outside… three houses away.
My senses were too sharp again.
My father looked up from the table as I entered, offering a warm, wrinkled smile. My mother didn't bother hiding her anticipation; it flickered across her brown eyes like firelight.
"Well?" she asked immediately.
So much for easing into the morning.
"He's a good man, Aureia," my father said gently. "Lucien comes from a strong lineage."
"And an affluent family," my mother added, practically bubbling. "Do you know how rare that is? A warrior with angel blood interested in our daughter? Oh, the moon goddess must love you."
I knew she was excited for me—excited for what she imagined my life could be. A mate with status. A future without struggling. A life unlike the one she had built with sweat and sacrifice.
But none of that mattered to me.
"I'm… not ready," I said quietly.
My mother sighed sharply, stabbing her spoon into her porridge. "When I was your age, I didn't have a choice. I trusted my parents, and they were right."
Yes, but she also loved my father deeply. They were fated mates. She forgot that part when lecturing.
I loved them both more than anything, but they didn't understand the thunderstorm inside me. The way my skin tingled at random. The way my dreams felt like something—or someone—was calling to me. The way my abilities kept slipping beyond what wolves should be capable of.
I couldn't accept any mate until I understood what I was.
Even if it meant disappointing the only people who had ever loved me.
"I just need time," I said softly.
My father reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Whatever makes you happy, little moon."
My mother made a noise of disapproval but didn't argue further—thank the goddess.
I excused myself and stepped outside, letting the sun warm my face. The grass brushed my ankles as I walked barefoot toward the hill beyond our home. When the wind swept past, carrying faint whispers of conversations I shouldn't be able to hear, I pressed a hand to my chest.
Something was wrong with me.
Or something was waking.
I lay down in the grass and stared at the clouds until the pressure in my chest loosened. For a moment, the world felt quiet.
But I needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't judge me for wanting more than tradition allowed.
Kaia Rosewood.
Her home was brighter, larger, always filled with laughter and the sound of her younger siblings racing around. When she opened her door, she looked radiant in soft morning light—dark bob swinging, eyes glowing with warmth.
"You look like you haven't slept," she said immediately.
I let out a humorless laugh. "I haven't."
We went to her room, where she handed me lemonade and a knowing look.
"You're running from the mating talk again," she said.
"Dragging my feet, actually," I muttered.
"Aureia," she sighed, "Lucien is kind. Strong. Handsome. Half the unmated girls would kill for his attention."
"I don't want a mate," I said. "Not now."
Kaia studied me closely. She knew there was more to it—more than I could tell her. But she nodded anyway, because she always tried to understand me even when no one else bothered.
"Then do what feels right for you," she said, squeezing my hand.
Her support settled something inside me. Enough that I found myself walking toward Lucien's home an hour later, the sunlight dancing over my skin as if urging me forward.
His house was tucked beside the forest, its stone walls catching streaks of gold. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears as I lifted a hand and knocked.
The door opened.
Lucien stood there—hair still damp, jaw shadowed, green eyes softening the moment they met mine. He had changed so much. Broader. Calmer. Beautiful in a way that made my words tangle in my throat.
"Aureia?" he said, voice warm and low. "Are you alright?"
No. Not even close.
But I had to say what I'd come to say.
"I came to see you," I managed.
A slow smile touche
d his lips, making my heart stutter.
"Then come in."