The forest always offered her comfort. But today, it whispered something different.
She sat on the edge of the riverbank, shoes off, toes dipped in the cold water. The quiet gurgling of the stream was like a lullaby for her thoughts, yet her mind was far from restful.
She looked at her hand.
The silver ring still circled her finger—plain, slightly loose, and worn at the edges. Every omega in the pack wore one. It wasn't decorative. It was a suppressor.
A control.
Calla had asked about it once as a child, but all she remembered was being told, "It helps keep your energy calm."
She never questioned it again.
But lately… that calm had begun to shift. Her body was changing. Her skin felt warmer in the evenings. Her dreams had grown louder—wolves running, shadows chasing her, a voice calling her name with urgency.
And that ring? It had pulsed twice since yesterday.
It had never done that before.
---
"He's close."
Calla blinked. What?
"The Alpha. He walks our way. The earth hears him."
You're being dramatic again, she thought.
Her wolf huffed inside her. "You always ignore me until it's too late."
Calla stood, brushing leaves from her pants. She grabbed her boots and started heading back to the path that would lead home.
But sure enough, a shadow appeared between the trees.
"Calla?"
His voice was unmistakable—calm, deep, with a kind of control that made others straighten their backs. Alpha Darien.
She turned, schooling her face. "Yes?"
He stepped into view, casual in dark jeans and a fitted shirt, though everything about him screamed authority. His hair was a little tousled, like he'd been running his hand through it again—he did that when he was thinking.
"I was looking for you," he said.
Her heart gave a traitorous skip.
"You were?" she asked, trying to stay composed.
Darien nodded. "I wanted to ask you something… but I wasn't sure how."
He stepped closer, but not too close.
"I've been noticing something about you, Calla. Your presence… it's different."
Her mouth went dry. "Different?"
He nodded slowly, eyes watching her face like he was waiting for a reaction. "Not bad. Just… strong. Focused. Controlled. You blend in like most omegas, but sometimes, for a moment—it's like I feel something else under the surface."
She looked down, fingers wrapping around her opposite wrist. "I'm just… trying to do my part for the pack."
He studied her.
"I know you are."
There was a pause.
Then he said, "When you write those reports for the training sessions… How do you see so much?"
Calla hesitated.
"I don't know. I just… I feel what's off. Like when a step is too fast or a balance is wrong. It's like my mind fills in what should've happened."
Darien's brows lowered slightly. He didn't speak right away. Then he said quietly, "That's more than instinct, Calla."
She didn't respond. She couldn't. Her tongue felt heavy with all the things she didn't understand herself.
But he didn't push.
"Keep doing what you're doing," he finally said. "But let me know if anything… changes."
Then he turned and walked away.
Calla watched him go. The way he walked—measured, grounded. Not like a man who had doubts.
But something inside her was stirring.
---
That night, Calla lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Mika was already asleep in the next room, and the house was quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl outside.
The ring on her finger tingled.
Her inner wolf stirred again.
"It's coming, Calla."
What is?
"You."
She frowned. I don't understand.
"Not yet. But soon… even the Alpha won't be able to ignore it."