Serena POV
The storm hammered the wooden shingles of the roof with a dull, percussive rhythm; the groaning of the pipes in the walls made the room sound like a sinking iron coffer.
The heavy rainfall had completely washed out the dirt road leading to the Healer's cabin in the woods. There was no way for me to go out and buy more potion.
I dragged my burning body onto the sofa, curling into a tight ball. Every bone in my body felt like it was being crushed into powder and pieced back together with rusty nails.
I pulled out my smartphone with trembling fingers to distract myself from the agony.
I opened PackNet, that encrypted social network used by the modern werewolf.
My notification bell was flashing red.
My reply from the night before, posted in the moments after Jason had left me for dead, had spread like wildfire.
Dozens of wolves from other packs had commented.
“Why didn't your future Mate pick you up?” one user asked.
“A true male would never let his female walk through Rogue territory alone,” another wrote.
I stared at the screen, a bitter taste rising in my mouth. I remembered calling Jason from the edge of the woods, begging him to come get me. He had told me he was overwhelmed with crucial pack business and that I needed to find my own way back.
I scrolled further down the comment section.
A user replied to my post with a screenshot. “You should buy your own car, girl. Look at the Crescent Pack's new darling. Her Alpha boyfriend just bought her a ride as a token of his power.”
I zoomed in on the screenshot. The profile picture belonged to Chloe.
My heart pounded a slow, painful rhythm against my ribs as I tapped on her public account.
Chloe was a famous socialite on PackNet, boasting over a million followers.
I clicked on her most recent video uploads. In almost every video since she joined Jason's company, there were subtle hints of a male presence. A large, muscular hand wearing a familiar silver watch. A deep, rumbling Alpha voice laughing in the background.
The comment sections were flooded with people shipping them.
“You guys are definitely the future Alpha and Luna!” one comment read.
Chloe had replied to that comment with two words: “Guess who.”
It was a blatant display of female territorial dominance. She was releasing mating signals to the entire digital werewolf world.
My breathing grew shallow as I clicked on a video posted just an hour ago.
It was Jason, sitting on a strange, expensive leather sofa. He was gently blowing on a bowl of hot soup.
“A sports car is a she-wolf's confidence,” Jason's voice said softly to the camera. “You deserve the best.”
The screen's piercing white light suddenly felt like a welder's torch against my retinas. I shoved the device from my lap with the back of my hand, desperate for the surrounding darkness to reclaim the room.
Just last year, I had asked Jason if we could buy a small, used car so I would not have to walk home in the dark. He had sternly refused, telling me that he would always fulfill his male duties and drive me. Yet, just last month, he complained to his friends that picking up an Omega maid from work was embarrassing for his image.
The fever ravaged my body, but my mind had never been clearer.
Then, something impossible happened. A cool, silver light flickered beneath my skin—like moonlight trapped in my veins. The burning heat in my bones began to ebb, just slightly, as if an ancient healer had laid hands on me from within.
I picked up my phone from the floor. My fingers were steady now, not with the tremors of sorrow, but with the rigid certainty of purpose.
I typed a reply to the user who suggested I buy a car.
“You are right. I will buy my own car tomorrow.”
As I pressed send, I felt my wolf stir for the first time in years—not in pain, but in awakening.
