Chapter 1
761words
I laugh despite myself, setting coffee mugs on the table. My cottage is modest but mine, tucked at the edge of Moonhaven territory.
"I get it, Mila. He's hot," I tease, curling up in my armchair.
"But it's not just his looks. Yesterday I fell during our trail run, and instead of laughing, he was so sweet about it. Checked my ankle so carefully. Then he carried me all the way back to the pack house in his arms."
"Sounds like you hit the jackpot," I say, meaning it despite the twinge in my chest.
"I did." Mila takes a sip of her coffee. "So, when are you going to find yours? You can't hide in this cottage forever, Luci."
I straighten, forcing a smile. "I'm not hiding. I'm just focused on work right now."
"At the clinic? Come on, spring whelping season can't keep you busy forever."
I shrug. "It's more complicated than that."
Mila leans forward eagerly. "Then uncomplicate it! There's a full moon gathering next weekend. Perfect chance to meet someone."
I stare into my coffee. "You know, I've never really believed in mate theory."
"Excuse me?" Mila nearly chokes. "How can you not? You're literally a werewolf!"
"I mean, I believe some wolves find perfect matches, but this whole 'destiny' thing seems convenient." I wave my hand dismissively, hoping she can't hear my heart racing at the lie.
The truth isn't something I've shared with anyone—not even Mila.
In my family, finding your mate is a death sentence. Blackwood women have been cursed for generations: ten years after finding their mate, they die suddenly. Their heartbroken mates soon follow, consumed by grief.
My mother collapsed at thirty-two, leaving my father a hollow shell who joined her six weeks later. My grandmother, my aunt—all gone the same way.
The curse is my burden alone. My secret shame.
"That's ridiculous," Mila says. "You've seen it happen. You saw how Mason and I were around each other at the bonfire. One minute I was normal, the next minute—boom!—everything changed."
"And that's great for you," I say carefully. "I'm just saying not everyone needs that to be happy."
Mila studies me. "Is this because of your parents? Because they died so young?"
I flinch involuntarily. Mila knows they died when I was eight—everyone in the pack knows—but she doesn't know the pattern, the curse.
"I just prefer dating the old-fashioned way," I deflect.
"Which is exactly why you need to come with me to the Blackwater Pack's solstice gathering tomorrow night." Mila leans forward. "Fresh faces. New possibilities."
My stomach tightens. "I don't know, Mila..."
"I'm not saying go find your mate," she says. "Just come have fun. Dance a little. Maybe flirt with a hot Blackwater wolf who doesn't know your entire life history."
"I have the early shift on Sunday," I say weakly.
"The party starts at sunset. You'll be home by midnight." Mila takes my mug. "Luci, when was the last time you did anything just for fun? You work, you come home, you run alone. That's not living."
She's not wrong. I've built a life designed for minimum risk—and minimum joy.
"There will be amazing food," Mila wheedles. "And Mason says their Alpha imports this incredible wolfsbane-infused whiskey that actually gives werewolves a buzz."
Despite myself, I'm tempted. One night pretending I'm normal. One night forgetting the curse.
"No setups," I warn. "I'm serious, Mila."
"Just dancing and drinking," she promises, though her eyes gleam suspiciously. "Though Mason did mention his friend Damon is recently single. Tall, gorgeous, built like a warrior."
I roll my eyes. "What part of 'no setups' was unclear?"
"It's not a setup if I just point him out," she argues.
"Fine," I relent. "But I'm driving myself, and I'm leaving whenever I want."
After Mila leaves, I find myself standing in front of my bedroom mirror, holding the green dress against me. It has been a long time since I've gone anywhere beyond work, the grocery store, and pack meetings.
On my dresser sits the only photo I have of my parents together on their wedding day. They look so happy, so unaware. Yet Mom died when I was a child.
"It's just a party," I tell their smiling faces. "Nothing will happen."
One night of pretending to be normal. What could possibly go wrong?
