Chapter Two: The Howl That Came Too Late
1281 Words
The howl didn’t stop.
It tore through the forest—raw, furious, possessive. It rattled my bones and stirred my wolf into a restless frenzy beneath my skin.
My mate.
Even now, my body recognized him before my heart could catch up.
I stood frozen for a moment after the stranger vanished, his presence still lingering like heat against my skin. My pulse hadn’t slowed. My thoughts hadn’t settled.
“You’re starving.”
The words echoed, unwelcome.
I clenched my fists.
“No,” I whispered into the quiet. “I’m done starving.”
Another howl—closer this time.
Branches snapped. Footsteps pounded toward me.
And then he was there.
“Aurelia!”
My name broke from him like something sacred—like he hadn’t spent months forgetting it.
He burst through the trees, chest heaving, eyes glowing gold with agitation. His gaze swept over me frantically, searching, checking.
As if I were something he could still claim.
“What are you doing out here alone?” he demanded, striding toward me. “Do you have any idea—”
“I’m not a child,” I cut in.
He stopped short.
Silence fell between us, heavy and strained.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then his eyes narrowed.
“I scented him,” he said, voice dropping. “He was here.”
Of course that was what mattered.
Not me.
Not how I felt.
Not the fact that I’d been standing alone in the dark for who knows how long.
Him.
The threat.
The rival.
I folded my arms. “And?”
His jaw tightened.
“And?” he repeated. “You’re asking me and? He’s dangerous, Aurelia. If he had touched you—”
“He didn’t,” I said flatly.
A lie? Not entirely.
But not the truth either.
Something flickered across his face—relief, quickly buried under anger.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he snapped. “Not with tensions this high. Not when I have enemies circling—”
“You always have enemies,” I said. “That’s never stopped you before.”
His eyes flashed.
“This isn’t the same.”
“No,” I agreed quietly. “It isn’t.”
Because before, you still chose me.
The words sat unspoken between us.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t do this right now.”
A hollow laugh slipped from me. “We don’t do anything anymore.”
That hit.
I saw it land in the slight flinch of his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered away for just a second too long.
But he recovered quickly.
“I have responsibilities,” he said. “The pack comes first.”
“And I don’t?” I asked.
“You’re part of the pack.”
I stared at him.
There it was.
Not my Luna.
Not my mate.
Not even my equal.
Just… part of the pack.
Replaceable.
Interchangeable.
Forgettable.
“I saw you tonight,” I said, my voice quieter now. “In the hall.”
His expression hardened.
“Aurelia—”
“With her,” I continued. “With the pup.”
His jaw clenched.
“They needed support.”
“And I didn’t?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Raw. Exposed.
His silence answered me.
Something inside my chest cracked.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
“Aurelia,” he said, softer now, stepping closer. “You know what happened. My brother is gone. Elira has no one. That pup—”
“That pup has a mother,” I said. “A mother you’ve practically replaced me with.”
“That’s not fair.”
A bitter smile touched my lips. “No. What’s not fair is watching my mate build a life with someone else while I stand in the background like a servant.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
He didn’t answer.
Because he couldn’t.
Because the truth was standing right there between us, undeniable.
His silence said everything.
My wolf stirred again—this time not in anger, but in something colder.
Clarity.
“I won’t compete,” I said finally.
His head snapped up. “No one is asking you to.”
“Aren’t they?” I tilted my head. “Every look. Every whisper. Every moment she sits where I used to sit.”
“That’s in your head.”
That did it.
A sharp, humorless laugh escaped me.
“In my head?” I stepped closer now, matching his intensity. “You brought her into our home. You give her everything that used to be mine. You let her child call you father—”
“He needs a male figure—”
“And I needed my mate!” I snapped.
The words echoed through the trees.
Even the wind seemed to still.
His expression shifted—something like guilt flickering beneath the surface.
But it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
“I’m trying to do what’s right,” he said, quieter now.
“For who?” I asked.
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
Not for me.
Never for me.
The forest suddenly felt colder.
The distance between us wider.
And for the first time…
I didn’t feel the urge to close it.
“I’m going back,” I said.
He frowned. “We’re not finished.”
“No,” I replied. “We are.”
I turned before he could stop me.
Before he could reach for me like he used to.
Before I could weaken.
“Aurelia.”
His voice followed me, sharper now.
I didn’t stop.
“Aurelia, you’re my mate.”
The words should have anchored me.
Once, they would have.
Now?
They barely slowed my steps.
“Then start acting like it,” I said over my shoulder.
Silence fell behind me.
No footsteps.
No hand catching mine.
No desperate attempt to keep me there.
Of course not.
He wouldn’t chase what he thought would never leave.
—
By the time I reached the pack house, the warmth inside felt suffocating instead of comforting.
Voices drifted from the hall.
Laughter again.
I paused just outside the doorway.
Elira’s soft voice carried through first.
“You shouldn’t worry so much,” she was saying gently. “You’re doing everything you can.”
“I know,” my mate replied. “It’s just… the timing. The rival Alpha moving this close—it’s not a coincidence.”
My breath caught.
“I’m sure you’ll handle it,” she said. “You always do.”
A pause.
Then softer—
“You’re not alone.”
Something twisted in my chest.
I didn’t need to look to know what that meant.
Didn’t need to see the way she probably touched his arm… the way he didn’t pull away.
I stepped back.
Quietly.
Unseen.
Again.
But this time, something was different.
Because as I turned and walked away from the hall…
I didn’t feel like crying.
I didn’t feel like begging.
I didn’t feel like fighting for a place that was already being given to someone else.
Instead…
I felt something far more dangerous.
Resolve.
And beneath it—
A memory.
Dark eyes in the moonlight.
A voice that saw too much.
A presence that didn’t overlook me.
“The next time I corner you…”
My pulse quickened.
I should have been afraid.
I wasn’t.
Because for the first time in a long time…
The thought of being wanted—truly wanted—
Didn’t feel like weakness.
It felt like power.
And somewhere deep inside…
My wolf agreed.
- Writer
