My Alpha Wants Me Back

When I straightened, I saw Theron standing at the entrance to the den, ready to leave. Without a backward glance, he called over his shoulder, “Something urgent came up with the council. I’ll walk with you next time,” before disappearing into the forest.

Half an hour later, I limped my way to my scouting post, noting the way some pack members glanced at me with a mix of sympathy and concern. Later, while filling my canteen at the river near the camp, I overheard two scouts whispering to each other.

“So it’s true—Alpha Theron has been spending more time with that new female beta, Celeste?” one asked.

“Uh-huh! You should have seen it this morning! Celeste showed up with some burrs on her coat, and Theron helped brush them off right in front of the whole council,” the other replied.

My hand slipped, and the canteen clattered onto the rocks, silencing their whispers. I crouched down to gather it, careful not to say anything.

I ended up working late, long after the moon had risen. It was past midnight when, suddenly, I felt a familiar weight settle on my shoulders.

“Selene,” Theron muttered, draping a cloak over my shoulders, “why didn’t you respond to my calls?”

I didn’t turn around; instead, I glanced at my comm-stone to see his last message: What flavor of moonberry brew do you usually like?

Three years ago, I had asked him for the first brew of summer. Back then, he had looked at me with pure disdain and scoffed, “Moonberry brew? You want me to make that for you? Selene, you’re nearly thirty winters old! Don’t make me cringe with this pup’s drink nonsense!”

But behind me, there he was, holding a fresh flask of moonberry brew.

I kept my gaze on the reports spread out in front of me, ignoring the sweet-scented flask.

I could sense his expression shifting as he spoke again, sounding almost confused. “You used to beg me for this.”

“It’s past moonrise,” I said dismissively. “If I drink it now, I won’t sleep.”

A brief silence stretched between us. Then, in a cold tone, he muttered, “I’m going to the edge of camp for a bit. Let’s head back together afterward.”

Barely thirty seconds later, his comm-stone lit up on my workbench. I glanced down to see it was a message from Celeste.

“You big goof! Who brings a whole crate of brews? Are you trying to turn me into a den-bound wolf? Freezing here!”

I shifted my eyes back to the maps on my table nonchalantly and organized the supplies scattered around. We returned to the den a little after midnight. As soon as I stepped in, I headed straight to my sleeping quarters and began gathering my things.

When Theron walked in, freshly groomed from the stream, he noticed my shelf looking barer than usual. He frowned but didn’t seem too concerned. “Hey, I’m headed to the Shadowmoon Territory next month for a council meet. If you want any herbs or tinctures, just make a list, and I’ll bring them back.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Nah. I don’t need anything. Thanks anyway.”

After all, I’d be leaving in a few days. What was the point?

Suddenly, he tossed his cloak onto the bed, his eyes cold as he glared at me. “So, what? You’re sulking because I brought you the wrong food? Is that what this is about?”

I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t angry, but he scoffed before I could get a word in.

“You know I can’t stand wolves being dramatic,” he said with a look of disgust. “Selene, you’re way out of line.”

With that, he stormed out of the room and into his study, slamming the wooden door behind him.

In our seven seasons together, he’d always been the one to dish out the silent treatment countless times. And every single time, I’d been the one to swallow my pride and apologize to make things right. But this time, I just cocked an eyebrow and lay down, blowing out the bedside lantern.

He stayed in the study all night. For the first time, he didn’t hear a single knock on the door.

The next morning, I prepared a simple breakfast as usual. I’d just finished my portion and was getting ready to leave for my patrol when he stepped out of the study.

He was checking his comm-stone as he barked at me, “Take the day off. By moonset, I need you to make me an exact replica of the ceremonial honeycake.”

Ever since Theron and I started dating, I’d been making him a honeycake every single year—all by hand, as any wolf who truly cared would.

But when I glanced at the screen of his moonstone, I knew right then who it was meant for this time.

I recognized the little cartoon wolf avatar on his screen—it was Celeste’s profile picture.

I didn’t say a thing, letting an uneasy silence settle in the den. But Theron seemed completely oblivious to how unreasonable his request was. He just looked at me, waiting for me to agree.

Eventually, I just nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “Send me the image,” I said, rising to my feet. “I’ll head out to gather the ingredients.”