Forged by fate

The pack house

Aaron shouldered the rough sack of firewood higher against his back, ignoring the way Trent’s laughter carried across the training yard. The Alpha’s son and his circle of betas-in-training always found something amusing when Aaron walked by.

“Careful, Omega,” Trent called out, voice dripping with arrogance. “Wouldn’t want you to trip and drop your master’s wood.”

Laughter rippled through his friends. Aaron kept his eyes forward, jaw tight. He could have answered — could have shut Trent up with one well-placed blow. His wolf itched to do it, to remind everyone that he wasn’t as weak as they thought. But his parents’ voices echoed in his mind, the same words they’d repeated since the day he got his wolf at sixteen:

Don’t reveal your strength. Don’t stand out. Don’t give them a reason to notice you.

So Aaron did what he always did. He bent his head, forced a polite smile, and walked on.

But when he passed the row of training posts, he noticed something that made his steps falter. A cluster of higher-ranked wolves — Alphas and Betas — were gathered, their postures tense. And in the middle of them stood a girl.

No — not a girl. A warrior.

Her braid gleamed dark under the sun, her stance sharp with discipline, shoulders squared against the weight of a dozen stares. She wasn’t from here — he could tell instantly. Everything about her radiated authority and untamed freedom, nothing like the polished arrogance of Trent or his packmates.

And then, the air shifted.

Aaron inhaled, and his world tilted.

The scent hit him like a blow to the chest — wild earth, steel, and the faintest hint of rain. His wolf roared awake, claws scraping at the edges of his mind. Mate.

He stumbled, catching himself before anyone noticed. His heart pounded so loud he was sure the others could hear it. But strangely — there was no recognition in her eyes. She glanced at him only briefly before her attention returned to Trent, who strutted forward like he already owned her.

Aaron’s stomach sank. Why hadn’t she felt it? Why hadn’t she reacted?

And then he remembered — the soap. The bitter-smelling mixture his parents insisted he use since his first shift. “It hides you,” his mother had said firmly. “It protects you. If they know what you are too soon, they’ll destroy you before you have a chance.”

Now, standing in the shadow of the packhouse, Aaron realized that the soap was hiding more than just his strength. It was hiding him.

Kalaysia — for he now knew her name, whispered between the higher ranks — didn’t see him. Didn’t feel what he felt. And Trent, smug and smirking, was already trying to impress her.

Aaron swallowed hard, fists tightening at his sides. For the first time in years, he hated the restraint his parents had placed on him. Because all he wanted — all his wolf demanded — was to step forward and claim the girl who had unknowingly just claimed his heart.