When I was fifteen, my father, Gideon Patterson, a Delta warrior in the Moonlight Pack, died saving the life of Dax Munoz, the Alpha heir. After his death, Faith Munoz, the Luna of the pack, took me in, and with Dax's silent approval, I became the quiet shadow that followed him around.

It wasn’t until the beginning of our senior year that I accidentally knocked over the coffee Dax had bought for Anastasia Alvarez, a Beta from the rival Nightshade Pack. For the first time, Dax was upset with me.

"Brooklyn," he said, his voice cold and authoritative, the Alpha tone cutting through the air. "Your father saved me, but the Munoz family has housed you for three years. We don’t owe each other anything."

He walked away, hand in hand with the radiant Beta, leaving me to quietly clean up the mess on the floor. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, but I silenced her. I grabbed the pack application form and silently crossed out my choice to follow Dax to the Alpha’s training grounds. From then on, we were square.

---

After changing my pack preferences in the office, I slowly made my way back to the training hall, carrying a stack of scrolls detailing combat strategies. The morning training session had just ended, and the warriors were resting quietly, their auras subdued but still commanding respect.

In the corner of the hall, Dax was intently tutoring Anastasia in advanced combat techniques. The sunlight filtered through the towering trees outside, casting a soft glow on their faces as they sat closely together. It was peaceful, almost beautiful.

My gaze drifted over Anastasia’s vibrant and confident expression, settling on the damp corner of her tunic. I had accidentally spilled her drink earlier, and Dax had escorted her to the pack’s healing quarters to clean up. Remembering the way he had walked away briskly, the skin on my hand, still stinging from the hot liquid, throbbed again.

"Thud..."

Someone tripped me up while I was distributing the scrolls, and they scattered to the floor. The noise disrupted the corner group. Dax glanced at me briefly before resuming his lesson. It was his Gamma friends who decided to tease.

"Alpha Heir," one of them called, smirking, "looks like your shadow wants some combat lessons too."

Despite excelling in other areas, combat had always been my Achilles’ heel. Before Anastasia joined our pack, Dax would tutor me in combat after morning training every day. The hall erupted into soft laughter, but I ignored it, bending down to gather the scattered scrolls.

Sensing my struggle, Dax frowned and considered helping. But just then, Anastasia, who had been chewing on her lip in thought, wrapped her arm around his.

Noticing me, she flashed a bright, self-assured smile. "Sorry, Brooklyn, I’m not great at advanced techniques, and the Alpha paired us in the same training group."

"First come, first served. I can’t give him up to you, okay?" She stuck out her tongue playfully, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Her confident demeanor was a stark contrast to my quiet nature.

"Alpha Heir," she said, turning back to Dax, "I think I’m starting to understand. Can you keep explaining?"

"Alright," Dax replied, his voice steady, implicitly agreeing with her words.

The warm sunlight once more enveloped them, as though separating me from their world by a shadow. Dax’s explanations became more advanced, and Anastasia struggled to keep up. She pouted, resting her chin on her hand and gazing at him intently.

"Your movements are so precise, Alpha Heir."

"Focus," he responded coolly, seemingly unfazed by her flirtations.

"Okay, okay," she murmured, inching closer to him.

Watching this scene quietly, I turned away with my scrolls. First come, first served...

But I distinctly remembered Dax whispering in my ear during one of our private training sessions, "Brooklyn, from now on, can you see only me?"

During the lunch break, the Moonlight Pack’s training hall was nearly empty. I sat at one of the long wooden tables, picking at my sandwich while trying to make sense of the combat strategy problems in front of me. Next to me sat another packed meal—pulled pork and a marinated chicken drumstick, now cold. It had taken forever to get that from the pack kitchen, but Anastasia, the Beta from the Nightshade Pack, had refused to eat it, so Alpha Dax had taken her to a nearby diner instead.

Today’s meal tasted bitter, and it was hard to focus on my work.

“Why the tears? Stop being such a crybaby.”

A pair of long, slender hands tapped on the table, followed by a packet of tissues and a box of spiced honey cake. I looked up to see Edgar Wheeler, pulling a medal from his messenger bag and placing it in front of me.

Elite Warrior Trials Gold Medal...

“Edgar, you’re back?”

I grabbed a couple of tissues to quickly wipe away the tears on my face, surprised by his sudden appearance. Edgar had been my classmate during our early training years, but he’d transferred to the advanced combat group in our senior year. For the first half of the year, he’d been away at the Crimson Howl Pack’s elite warrior training camp, so I hadn’t seen him much.

Today, he wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms. He seemed a bit more mature, his presence calm yet commanding.

“If I didn’t come back, wouldn’t Alpha Dax just torment you endlessly?”

“I’m going to start tutoring you in combat strategies today.”

Edgar pulled out the chair next to me and sat down uninvited. He took the practice book that was lying beside me and, with his agile fingers, started marking it with a red pen. Hearing Alpha Dax’s name, I sniffed in frustration.

“N-no need.”

Seeing more and more red Xs spread across the pages of my workbook, I felt a bit embarrassed and wanted to decline his offer. But Edgar was straightforward and efficient, diving right into explaining the problems after finishing his corrections.

“You used the wrong approach for this maneuver...”

His voice was low, yet clear and engaging. Unlike Alpha Dax’s methodical style, Edgar’s approach to combat strategies was lively and intriguing. Before long, the scratch paper was covered in his neat notes.

I had to focus and keep up with his explanations. Once I corrected my mistakes, I noticed that Edgar had finished off the box of pulled pork, clearly enjoying it.

Thinking back, I realized we weren’t all that close. Maybe he’s just the kind of person who’s helpful when packmates need it. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude. In a pack where I often felt like an outsider, Edgar’s quiet support was a rare comfort.

After finishing evening study, I stood by the bike rack outside the training grounds, waiting for the Alpha heir. I wasn’t planning on following him back to the pack house; I just needed the keys I’d given him this morning.

Through the dim light, I spotted Dax walking casually with one hand in his pocket, his broad shoulders and towering frame unmistakable even from a distance. Anastasia, a Beta from the Nightshade Pack, skipped alongside him, her vibrant energy a stark contrast to his calm, commanding presence. She lifted her pretty face, her eyes sparkling as she teased, “I did better in combat tactics today, Alpha Heir. You owe me an ice cream.”

Dax kept his cool demeanor, but the corner of his mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. It was the same expression he wore when he couldn’t resist indulging someone’s charm.

Last year, during our pack’s training expedition to the mountains, I collapsed halfway from exhaustion. Dax, ever the dutiful future Alpha, crouched in front of me, his piercing gaze softening as he tousled my hair. “Brooklyn, if you act cute, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

Yet, I only muttered back without changing my expression, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders since my father, a Delta warrior, had fallen in battle. Smiling or acting cute didn’t come easily. Dax chuckled softly, his deep voice carrying a warmth that momentarily eased the ache in my chest, and he lifted me onto his back. “You’re tough to handle.”

That day, fog swept over the mountains, bringing a biting cold. But Dax’s back felt warm and steady, his Alpha aura a comforting presence that calmed my inner turmoil.

“Yay! Alpha Heir, you’re my favorite!” Anastasia’s laughter, carried by the evening wind, almost sounded like a confession. By the time I snapped back to reality, Dax had already pulled out the keys, his sharp eyes locking onto mine as he waited patiently for me.

“Walk home by yourself and don’t spill anything to the Luna,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Anastasia caught sight of me and shyly hid behind Dax, though her movements were more playful than bashful. As she peeked out, her smile had a trace of mischief, as if she knew something I didn’t.

“Okay,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest.

I took the keys from his outstretched hand, my fingers brushing against his briefly. Adjusting my backpack, I turned to head home, the weight of the Alpha heir’s expectations and the Beta’s knowing smile pressing down on me like a storm cloud. But I walked on, my steps steady, refusing to let the cracks in my heart show.