A Welcoming Embrace

POV: ELOWEN

The afternoon sun beats down on the dusty tracking oval, baking the earth beneath my running shoes. I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow, my breathing already coming in harsh, uneven gasps as I push my aching muscles forward. The last three days blur past my mind in a chaotic haze of forced smiles, exhausting social interactions, and tentative attempts at family bonding. After that disastrous, guilt-ridden argument in Zarek’s office, I retreated into the supposed safety of my childhood home, only to find a different kind of battlefield waiting for me. My father and I cautiously attempt to mend our deeply fractured relationship, walking on eggshells around each other.

It is a grueling, uncomfortable process. Despite my heavy, lingering resentment over being banished from the pack all those years ago, a desperate part of my soul wants us to be a real family again. I hate him for sending me away, yet I love him fiercely. I long for his presence just as much as I ache for my mother. Dad works as the manager of the public library in a neighboring human town, and he spends every evening bringing home stacks of thick, leather-bound books for me to read. He remembers my obsession with fantasy novels and historical texts, trying to bridge the massive gap between us with literature. Torin relentlessly taunts him over it, claiming Dad just wants to keep me cooped up in the house with zero social life.

The truth is, I have zero time for the books or for myself. I honestly thought the pack had forgotten my existence, but their reaction to my return proved me wrong. The community has been overwhelmingly welcoming. Elderly wolves who knew my mother, parents who used to host our childhood playdates, and members around my own age fill my days with endless invitations. I bounce from breakfast gatherings to dinner parties, dodging coffee breaks and afternoon teas just to carve out a few precious hours with my dad and Torin. My heart soars at the attention, yet my underlying, suffocating anxiety continues to mount rapidly with every passing hour.

Tomorrow is the full moon.

I am the only one in the entire pack expected to undergo the excruciating first shift. Everyone else my age completed their transitions years ago while I was living among humans, ignorant of the agonizing bone-breaking reality of our kind. Desperate to ensure my physical survival through the painful transformation, I throw myself into intense afternoon training. My lungs burn, and my calves scream in protest as I hit the dirt track again.

Nadia stands on the sidelines, blowing a silver whistle with militant enthusiasm. She is a fierce, relentless nineteen-year-old warrior who currently runs the afternoon drills. She also harbors a massive, blatant infatuation with my oblivious brother. She and her mother transferred to our pack three years after I left, and her sole motivation for becoming one of the most lethal female warriors in our ranks was to join Torin’s elite squad. My brother remains blissfully unaware of her devotion, or he plays the part of the ignorant commander flawlessly.

I expressed my genuine terror of dying during the shift to Nadia earlier today. She merely laughed, slapped my ass hard enough to leave a stinging red mark, and ordered me to run ten laps before the real warmups even began. I try to focus on the rhythm of my pounding feet, distracting myself with thoughts of my parents. Nadia and Torin are not fated mates, which is the normal reality for most wolves these days. Finding a true fated mate is a rare blessing in a world overflowing with expanding packs. My parents were the lucky ones, though their story was drenched in chaotic drama. Neither of them originally belonged to this pack. They were in committed relationships with other wolves in separate territories when the Moon Goddess slammed them together. Their former partners refused to let go, forcing my parents to flee their respective homes and seek sanctuary here under the protection of Zarek’s mother.

I am pushing through my exhausting seventh lap on the dusty track, lost in the messy history of fated bonds and broken hearts, when I sense a massive presence right beside me. The air shifts, growing heavier and charged with static heat. I snap my head to the right.

It is Zarek.

He effortlessly matches my grueling pace. His long, muscular legs eat up the distance without a single change in his breathing. He wears the exact same infuriating poker face he utilized to dismiss me in his office three nights ago.

"Hey! How's it going?" he casually asks.

He keeps his gaze locked dead ahead, not even glancing my way. The sheer audacity of his casual greeting sends a fresh wave of irritation and undeniable heat rushing through my veins.

I immediately come to a screeching halt. My running shoes kick up a small cloud of dry dirt. I plant my hands on my hips, my chest heaving as I suck in ragged breaths of the warm afternoon air.

"I was just wondering if you would stop and look at me, or if you plan on talking to me without looking at all." I snap breathlessly, my voice laced with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

He stops in his tracks. The tall, imposing Alpha turns his body toward me. A boyish, devastating smile breaks across his rugged features, revealing deep dimples that threaten to melt every ounce of my stubborn resolve. The harsh sunlight catches the sweat glistening on his bare, tattooed arms, making my mouth go instantly dry.

"I don't get you at all. Last time, you said you didn't want me to look at you. Now you want me to look at you. Make up your mind, princess." He chuckles, the deep, rumbling sound vibrating straight down to my toes.

"Are you for real? I said don't stare at me, not don't look at me!" I cross my arms over my chest, fighting a losing battle to mask my real emotions.

His smile only grows fuller, reaching those intense, dark eyes. He looks so ruggedly handsome that it physically aches to maintain eye contact. The imposing Alpha demeanor dissolves, leaving behind a remorseful, good-looking lost boy who knows he crossed a line.

"Yeah, my bad. I just don't know how to talk to you. I know I must have pissed you off big-time with that mindlink prank." He runs a large hand through his thick hair, messing up the dark strands.

I swallow hard, desperate to maintain my composure. The memory of his deep voice echoing inside my head still sends shivers down my spine.

"Well, you did. It was an asshole move, Zarek." I state firmly, holding my ground.

Despite my harsh words, a warm smile inevitably tugs at the corners of my lips. I cannot stay mad at him, not when he stands there looking at me with such genuine regret and undeniable charm. The heavy blanket of guilt I carried since our argument finally begins to lift. Emboldened by his playful teasing and the sudden lightness in my chest, I let my hands drop back to my hips.

"But you can say Welcome Home and then maybe come and hug me?" I cheekily suggest.

The moment the words leave my mouth, my heart hammers against my ribs. I brace myself for rejection, wondering if I pushed the boundary too far. Instead, his face instantly lights up with a massive, wide grin that reaches his eyes.

"Yeah, that would be nice. Come here, princess. Give this old man a hug!" he commands playfully, opening his massive arms and motioning for me to close the distance.

I do not hesitate. I enthusiastically fling my arms around his thick neck, crashing my smaller frame against his solid, muscular chest. He catches me with ease, his large hands gripping my waist. He lifts my body off the dusty ground in an instant, suspending me in the air. The sheer strength in his grip makes my breath hitch. He lowers me just enough to let my toes brush the dirt, but he does not loosen his hold. He tenderly presses his warm, soft lips directly to the crown of my head, lingering there as his breath stirs my messy hair.

"I'm glad you're back, princess. I miss you," he murmurs softly into my hair.

The deep, gravelly timbre of his voice sends a rush of heat straight to my core. I close my eyes, melting into his immense warmth. I bury my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His intoxicating masculine scent of pine, dark earth, and fresh sweat wraps around my senses, drowning out the dust of the track and the fear of tomorrow's full moon. Every muscle in my body relaxes into his secure embrace.

"Me too, Zarek," I whisper back, tightening my arms around his neck.

We purposefully linger in the tight, intimate embrace. The rest of the training ground fades into the background. I feel the steady, thumping rhythm of his heart against my chest, matching the frantic beat of my own. His fingers trace small, comforting circles on my lower back, sending sparks of electricity through my thin workout shirt. I want to stay wrapped in his arms forever, shielded from the brutal reality of the pack and my impending shift.

A loud, aggressive throat clearing shatters the peace like a physical blow.

The romantic tension snaps. I flinch, but Zarek confidently keeps one thick arm wrapped securely around my shoulders. He deliberately pulls me flush against his side as we both turn to face the source of the interruption.

Torin stands five feet away. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, and his jaw is clenched so tight a muscle ticks visibly beneath his skin. My brother's eyes are dark with a freezing coldness as he attempts to mask a furious glare directed solely at the Alpha’s hand resting on my shoulder.

"This is a training ground, if you're not aware. And I would be pleased if my Alpha and my sister could respect that," my brother states, his tone dripping with icy disapproval.

The protective interference radiates from Torin in waves. He hates the physical contact, his stance rigid and prepared for a confrontation.

"Chill, man! I'm just welcoming Elowen back." Zarek laughs heartily, entirely unfazed by my brother's threatening posture.

Zarek affectionately squeezes my shoulder, his large fingers pressing into my tense muscles. He leans down slightly, catching my eye. He gives me a quick, devastating wink that makes my stomach perform a somersault.

"Go ahead and continue your run, princess. Or your brother may beat our asses up," Zarek commands in a light, teasing tone.

He releases his hold on me, the sudden loss of his body heat leaving me cold despite the afternoon sun. I let out a very heavy, dramatic sigh. I roll my eyes at Torin, making sure he sees the sheer depth of my irritation. Without another word, I pivot on my heel and sprint away down the dusty track. I push my aching legs to move faster, deeply disappointed that my overprotective brother just ruined my perfect moment, yet fully aware that Torin will never stop opposing my connection to the Alpha.