Rowena's POV
It wasn't until dawn that we finally managed to calm down. Darkness slowly retreated before the pale light of the rising sun, as if the night refused to release what it had claimed so fiercely. The forest—silent witness to my pain, my struggle, my transformation—now appeared peaceful once more. The trees stood still, sunlight filtering through the leaves and painting the ground in soft shades of gold. Birds returned cautiously, their tentative songs stitching sound back into the quiet.
Strangely enough, we hadn't encountered a single wolf. It was as if the entire pack had vanished into the night—or as though the forest itself had chosen to hide us from the world. The thought was both comforting and unsettling. The pack's absence meant freedom… but it also felt like a warning.
Exhausted, I lingered along a narrow path concealed by dense bushes. Selene slowed, her movements growing careful, until she finally stopped. My body still ached, every nerve remembering the night before. My skin was sensitive, my muscles tight, and deep in my bones, the aftermath of the transformation still burned. The raw, searing pain was gone—but its echo remained, a reminder etched into me.
There were two things I knew for certain now.
First: I would avoid the Alpha at all costs—for as long as I possibly could.
Second: Selene would never submit to him.
I didn't know my roots. I had no idea where I came from, who my ancestors were, or what kind of bloodline pulsed through my veins. But Selene's strength, her confidence, her snow-white fur made one thing unmistakably clear: the wolf within me was anything but ordinary. The way she moved, the way she observed, the way the forest itself seemed to respond to her presence—it all whispered the same truth. I came from powerful blood. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, I couldn't yet tell. But one thing was certain: no one could know. Not yet.
"And you truly believe you can avoid that arrogant fool?" Selene asked, her voice edged with mockery, though anger still simmered beneath it.
"I'll do everything I can," I muttered.
I knew the Alpha's schedule. I knew when he trained, when he attended school, when he prowled the corridors of the packhouse. Thankfully, our classes didn't overlap, which brought some relief. The real problem was the breaks—and the packhouse itself. Derek lived there. He moved through it freely. He was everywhere I was.
"You're ridiculous," Selene remarked.
"And you're delusional if you think we'll escape submission," I replied quietly.
She flicked her tail in irritation but didn't press further. I could feel it—she didn't see the future clearly either. That alone unsettled me. It was rare for Selene.
The moment the packhouse came into view, I slipped inside through a side entrance, careful not to be seen. I didn't want explanations. I didn't want questions. I didn't want to explain why I was covered in mud, why my clothes hung in torn remnants, why my hair clung to my scalp in tangled knots.
My room was small, almost austere. A narrow bed, a worn desk, a chair, and a wardrobe that was never truly full. The emptiness didn't bother me—it was familiar. Just like my life had always been.
When I closed the door behind me, I finally exhaled. My shoulders sagged. I discarded what remained of my clothes and stepped into the shower. Hot water poured over my skin, washing away the forest, the blood, the fear, the imprint of the night—but it couldn't erase the pain entirely. That ran deeper. It took time to untangle my long hair, my fingers trembling by the time I finished.
I had no choice but to skip breakfast. I grabbed my bag, snatched an apple from the dining table, and hurried to school.
Fortunately, the history teacher was late, allowing me to slip into the back row and fade into near invisibility.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Scott began when he finally entered. "Today's lesson will be a bit different. Since most of you have already gone through your first shift, it's time we talked about our origins."
As the lesson progressed, tension coiled tighter within me.
"The most common wolf color is brown," he explained. "They are the everyday warriors—quick learners and excellent guards. Grey, also known as stalkers, excel as scouts and messengers. Black is rare, but exceptionally powerful. History's greatest Alphas were black wolves." He paused. "Though, as we know, our current Alpha and his son are dark brown—yet still remarkable leaders."
That was as much as I could focus on.
Not a single word about white wolves.
"He's skipping white wolves on purpose," Selene whispered, her voice soft but sharp.
"Why would he?" I murmured, gripping my pen.
"To see if there's someone different in the room. If you ask, you'll draw attention," she replied.
As Scott continued, every word carried new tension. I felt his gaze linger on every small movement. The Alpha's scent—the taste of power—hung in the air, seeping through the classroom windows themselves.
"Then how am I supposed to learn more about your kind?" I asked Selene quietly, as if the question existed only between us.
"Our kind," she corrected gently. Sunlight caught in the white of her fur, making it shimmer. "Students are taught only the basic lines. Not the rarities."
"Oh? Are there other 'odd ones out' besides white?" I asked dryly, though curiosity stirred beneath my tone.
"Of course," she replied. "Silver and gold."
I blinked.
"You mean grey and yellow?" I asked uncertainly.
"No, Rowena. Silver and gold. Silver wolves are seers—directly connected to the Moon Goddess. Gold belongs to royalty. Pure noble blood. True leaders."
"They really exist?" I asked carefully. "Purebloods, across generations?"
"Not entirely gold in color," Selene explained, and from the corner of my eye I saw faint golden strands glint in her fur. "But the bloodline remains. The current prince bears a golden marking in his coat."
"Does that mean… we could have noble ancestors too?" I whispered, almost to myself.
"Why do you ask?" Selene's voice held both attention and curiosity.
"I noticed the golden hue in your fur by the lake—when the moonlight hit you," I murmured, staring beneath my desk.
At that moment, Mr. Scott called my name.
"Rowena? May I have a word?"
Only then did I realize class had ended. The others were already packing up. My heart pounded as I stood, clutching my books to my chest.
"Is everything alright, Rowena?" he asked kindly. "You seem distracted. I heard yesterday was your birthday."
"Yes… but I haven't had my first shift yet," I replied softly, my voice trembling despite myself.
"Don't worry about that. Some take longer. If you wish, you can speak with the school counselor."
"That won't be necessary, sir," I offered a faint smile. "I believe it will resolve on its own."
"That's a healthy attitude. If you do need help, you know where to find me."
The rest of the day passed quietly. I remained invisible, as always. And oddly enough, it comforted me to know my true mate wasn't in this pack. Since my father's death, nothing truly tied me here. One day, I might leave—to search for my roots.
When classes ended, I rushed home. The packhouse entrance was empty, allowing me to slip inside unnoticed.
I moved down the corridor, books held tightly against my chest. My steps were quiet, but my heart raced. Only a few steps remained between me and my door—my safe haven, where I could finally rest.
Then the air changed.
A sweet, intoxicating scent filled my senses—chocolate and raspberry, layered with something warm and spicy. My instincts flared instantly, my heart pounding harder. Every sense sharpened, though my mind urged caution.
And then I heard his voice.
"Clarissa…"
I froze.
Deep. Certain. Familiar. Derek's voice—the Alpha. My legs nearly gave out beneath me. My heart leapt into my throat, and seconds stretched into eternity.
"Come on," the girl whined. "Someone might see us!"
"I don't care," the Alpha growled, his footsteps drawing closer. "I only want you."
My body trembled. The scent, the presence, the danger twisted together inside me. Every muscle tensed, every instinct screamed. My breath quickened—but I stepped sideways, slipping into the shadows, guiding myself silently toward my door.
The moment I reached it, I turned the lock in one swift motion and leaned back, forcing air into my lungs. My heart raced for minutes, my arms shaking, my grip on the books slowly loosening.
I breathed easier.
I'd done it. I had avoided the Alpha. The danger that had nearly caught me faded, replaced by relief—and a small, private sense of victory.
Selene sat beside me, her presence protective and calm. Approval glinted in her eyes, tempered by caution. I knew then: today, I hadn't just avoided physical danger. I had learned to listen to my instincts—and to trust Selene's strength and guidance even more.