CHAPTER 3
1175 Words
(Jared POV)
By the time I pull into the long gravel drive of the pack house, the sun is dipping low, casting a copper haze over the treetops.
The manor rises like a beast out of the clearing—three stories of old stone and timber, wide porches with thick columns, bay windows that spill golden light across the wrap-around veranda. It’s been our home for generations, tucked just far enough outside town to keep curious eyes away.
To outsiders, it’s just an old estate owned by the Booth family. But to the pack, it’s everything. Headquarters. Safehouse. Home.
Inside, the hum of life pulses through the walls. Somewhere upstairs, pups are arguing over the Xbox in the rec room. In the den, I catch murmured voices—probably the Betas going over patrol shifts. The air smells like pinewood, lemon oil, and the faint lingering musk of wolf.
I head for the kitchen, where the air is quieter and I can breathe.
The fridge yields some leftover roast chicken, and I start throwing together a sandwich while leaning against the marble island. I should be starving, but my stomach is tied in knots. My mind keeps drifting back to the river. The water. Her.
Kay.
The way she laughed, free and alive, droplets glistening on her skin. The way her eyes locked with mine in that breathless heartbeat—like we both felt something, just under the surface.
And then, like always, she pulled back. Played it off. Like it didn’t matter.
But it does. God, it does.
The worst part? She doesn’t even know why I look at her the way I do. Why I can’t stop.
“Still raiding the fridge like a starving wolf?” my mom’s voice drifts in behind me, soft and teasing.
I glance back and smile. Emma Booth, matriarch of the pack and the softest iron you've ever met, walks in with her usual barefoot grace, a tea towel draped over her shoulder and her curly hair pulled into a loose bun.
“Don’t act like you didn’t do the same thing at my age,” I say, smirking.
She chuckles and walks over to straighten the already straight fruit bowl on the counter, just for the sake of doing something with her hands. “You smell like river water and... feelings.”
I groan. “Don’t start.”
She just raises an eyebrow. “Kay?”
I nod. “She needed a break after gym. We went to the river.”
She leans against the counter beside me. “I remember when you first took her there. You were what—seven? You told me it was your secret fort and she was your ‘second-in-command.’”
I grin, despite myself. “She still is.”
“You still haven’t told her what you are.” It’s not a question.
“No,” I say quietly. “And I won’t. Not unless—”
“Unless?” she presses.
I shrug. “Unless there’s ever a reason.”
She studies me for a beat, but lets it go. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. And your father is in a mood.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “He’s been pacing the office all afternoon. Probably counting down the days until he can retire and dump the title on you.”
Lucky me.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
The dining room is warm with the scent of roasted vegetables and seared venison. The long wooden table is half-filled with pack members—elders, enforcers, a few unmated young wolves. Everyone eats here when they can, though with graduation coming, more of my age group are splitting time between here and their family homes.
Dad sits at the head of the table, posture straight as ever, silver beginning to salt the edges of his dark hair. Jared Booth Sr. is every inch the Alpha—commanding, sharp-eyed, and always one step ahead.
I slide into my seat across from him, loading my plate in silence.
“So,” he starts after a few minutes, “Any updates from the universities?”
I keep my tone neutral. “Nothing new.”
“Nothing new,” he echoes, setting down his fork. “You do realize it’s June, right? Some of those offers will expire. You’re dragging your feet, and you’re going to lose out.”
“I’ve still got time,” I say.
“No, you had time. You’re almost out of it,” he snaps. “Those scholarships don’t wait forever, Jared. And they’re not going to hold your spot just because you can’t make a damn decision.”
I clench my jaw. “I just want to make the right one.”
He narrows his eyes. “Or are you waiting for her to make it first?”
The air goes cold.
“Excuse me?” I say, voice low.
“You heard me,” he says. “You’ve gotten letters from five top schools—all offering to build their hockey programs around you—and you’re sitting on your hands because Kay hasn’t chosen yet.”
My chest tightens. “That’s not what this is about.”
“No?” he leans forward. “Then tell me why my son, who’s had his future mapped out for years, suddenly can’t commit to a college without running it by a human girl who doesn’t even know what you are.”
“She’s not just some human girl,” I bite back. “She’s been part of my life longer than this pack structure you’re so obsessed with.”
“She’s not one of us,” he says flatly. “She’ll never be one of us.”
“She’s everything that matters to me.”
The silence is sharp and heavy.
He leans back, folding his arms. “Then maybe you’re not ready to lead.”
My stomach drops, but I hold his gaze. “Maybe I don’t want to lead if it means I have to cut out the only person who’s ever made me feel like I’m more than just… this.”
His eyes flash—anger, frustration, maybe even a trace of fear.
“I won’t apologize for caring about her,” I say quietly.
“Then don’t expect the pack to follow a leader who chooses emotion over legacy,” he mutters.
Before the next blow can fall, Mom steps in. “That’s enough,” mom says, voice calm but firm. “This is dinner. Not a war council.”
My father doesn’t argue. Not with her. He stabs a piece of roast and turns his attention back to his plate.
I sink back in my chair, staring at my untouched food.
Mom reaches under the table and gives my knee a light squeeze. A silent gesture. I see you. I’m here.
And in that moment, I know two things for sure.
I love Kay.
And if I have to choose between her and everything I was born into…
I already know where my loyalty lies.
- Writer
