Nestled in the shadow of the sprawling metroplex of Oakfort, our little village seems a world away from the city’s ceaseless buzz.  

Here, life moves at the languid pace of the natural world, governed by the rise and fall of the sun and the changing seasons rather than the ticking of the clock.  

Only those that work or attend the university in Oakfort abide by strict schedules set by the corporations and institutions.  

This village, one of many surrounding Oakfort, is a tight-knit tapestry of three wolf packs, each with their own territories that blend seamlessly into one another, creating a large, communal living space that feels both expansive and intimate.  

Houses are spread like scattered leaves, tucked between swathes of thick forest and rolling meadows, with winding dirt roads that loop and curl like the trails of animals in the wild. 

This place, where everyone knows each other by name and the howl of a neighbor is as familiar as a family member’s voice, is more than just a small town, it’s a living, breathing community, deeply rooted in the federally protected wilderness that surrounds it.  

Our entire community, a vibrant mosaic of over forty packs including my own, the Mystward Pack, thrives quietly in the shadow of the bustling city, spread amongst many villages. 

Tonight, my pack takes center stage as hosts of the Mystwood Festival, an event steeped in our rich traditions. A stone’s throw away lies a silent waterfall, a sacred place deeply revered by all of us.  

It is here, in this tranquil sanctuary, where we will gather at dawn to draw the festival to a close, reconnecting with our ancient roots under the watchful eyes of our ancestors.  

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows over the festival grounds, I hurry to help the last of food setup. The air is thick with the aroma of roasting meats, fresh herbs, and anticipation, a festive energy pulsating through the gathering as everyone anticipates the night’s events. 

I’m arranging the last of the pumpkin gourds around a large, picnic table joking with Mariah when her eyes widen over my shoulder. A knowing smirk plays on her lips as she grins wide and gestures behind me with a small nod.  

Bryson approaches, moving with quiet confidence, his dark eyes scanning the bustling scene around us before settling on me. 

“Sinsoel Mystward,” he starts, his voice respectful yet firm. “Would you honor me by being my partner for tonight’s festivities? It would mean a lot to have you by my side.”  

I pause, considering his request respectfully as expected of me, weighing the implications of either answer. 

As I’m about to respond, he adds, “and, just so you know, Landon is on his way to ask the same question. But, I’m glad I reached you first.” 

His honesty brings a small smile to my face. As far as they go, Bryson and Landon couldn’t be more different.  

Landon, with his brash arrogance and booming personality, carries himself like he’s already won, not just the competition for Alpha, but in every aspect of life that he encounters. His narcissistic tendencies can be suffocating, often pushing the limits of what’s bearable even in casual conversation.  

Bryson, on the other hand, is the kind of soul you lean on in times of need. Quiet, respectful, and always considering the needs of others before his own, he embodies the spirit of a true leader.  

While my heart isn’t set on marriage to either one, when it comes down to it, my choice will be Bryson. His steady, unassuming presence is a comfort that, in a world as wild as ours, is more valuable than loud declarations of arrogance. 

I nod, accepting his offer, “I’d be glad to join you, Bryson Anan.” Relief and apprehension floods me and I can’t help shake off the blush that forms at the formality of the moment.  

A formal acceptance of in our tradition during the festival for dating partners is a major deal; my sisters will be gossiping and teasing me heavily tomorrow. 

There’s a gentleness in his eyes that reminds me why he’s been more appealing to me than Landon. Any lingering doubts are momentarily swept away by the warmth of Bryson’s smile, radiating a quiet confidence. 

“Thank you, Sin. I promise, I’ll make this evening one to remember,” his voice low and reassuring. I find myself smiling back, a blush warming my cheeks and a surprising flutter of excitement stirring in my chest as he reaches a hand forward.  

Those surrounding us take notice, their murmurs a blend of approval and disdain. 

Mariah waves me off with a flick of her hand, a conspiratorial grin carved across her face, her green eyes gleaming with mischief. 

Bryson’s hand is steady in mine as he leads me through the throngs of pack members and guests, each one bustling with excitement.  

We pass tables laden with food, drinks, and crafts, the air alive with laughter and the building beats of drums and vocals around us.  

As we weave through the crowd, sun moving through the sky with each step we take, Bryson quietly nods, politely acknowledging greetings and giving his own with a quiet grace; strangely it makes me feel proud to be at his side.  

I too, as the Alpha’s daughter, greet those we pass.  

“Bryson,” I start, my voice steady but serious, contemplating, “if you could go to college, would you?” 

He glances at me, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a knowing look dancing in his grey eyes. “I plan on it, even if I get picked to be Alpha. I’ll go to Oakfort U.” 

A spark of hope lights within me. “And me?” I ask, my tone betraying the weight of the question. 

He chuckles softly, the sound soothing in the cool night, “you’ll be a… let me guess, Business major with… some type of athletic freebie?” 

I can’t help but smile at his light-hearted guess. “You know me too well,” I bump him playfully with my shoulder. 

“Of course I do,” he replies, his eyes softening as he looks at me. “You’re not just an Alpha’s daughter, Sinsoel. You’re destined for great things, whether it’s here or out there in the wider world. I just hope I can stay by your side to witness it.” 

His words are sweet, and the seriousness I tried to maintain melts away, replaced by a warmth that only Bryson has ever been able to bring out in me.  

“I wish it were that simple,” I murmur, glancing away, the weight of my mother’s expectations pressing heavily on my shoulders. 

Bryson gently lifts my chin, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Hey, nothing worth having is ever simple. That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth fighting for.” 

“Cheesy,” I lean into his touch, feeling a rare sense of peace. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“It’s not,” he admits, his voice filled with sincerity. “But with the right people by your side, it can be a lot more manageable.” 

“So, if I choose you as my mate tonight, during the ceremony?” I ask, my voice edged with hesitation. 

“I already talked to Alpha Cade about it,” Bryson replies, his smile easy but sincere. “We’d both go to college, finish our degrees, and then come back to take over the pack together. But he was clear about one thing. We’d have to marry before we leave. That part isn’t up for debate, Sin. My hands are tied.” 

A flicker of annoyance sparks in my chest at the idea of my future being arranged behind closed doors, but it fades almost as quickly as it came. Bryson knows me too well. He must have brought it up when Landon wasn’t around. The thought brings a strange sense of comfort, and the tension I didn’t realize I was holding begins to ease. 

We stand there for a moment, the sounds of the festival and people moving around us fade into the background. He leans in, his hold on my chin firm yet gentle, and nuzzles his nose against the shell of my ear. The sensation tickles, sending a shiver down my spine, but he doesn’t pull away until I start laughing, the sound light and freeing in the night air. 

“Look at that,” he gestures, drawing my attention. I turn to follow his gaze, and he wraps an arm around me, gently guiding me over to a nearby table. 

At one stall, illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp, an elderly woman expertly weaves silver threads into leather, crafting a traditional rune meant to shield the wearer from harm. Night had settled in quietly while we wandered the festival grounds, the hours slipping past faster than I realized. Time always moved like that with Bryson, vanishing before I could catch hold of it. 

Bryson lifts a beautifully crafted bracelet from the table, purple dyed leather adorned with golden runes, and examines it closely under the light. He exchanges a knowing look with the woman, who gives a subtle nod in my direction.  

Their silent exchange is brief but seems laden with significance as he turns back to me.  

Gently, he raises our intertwined hands and secures the bracelet around my wrist. 

“For you, Sin, daughter of Alpha Cade, to remember tonight, no matter what your decision will be.” There’s a hint of melancholy in his voice, as if he’s already resigned to not being the choice I make.  

The shadows of the night mask his expression, leaving his eyes hidden and mysterious. His gesture warms my heart, stirring feelings of gratitude and a poignant curiosity about the secret he might be concealing. 

I eye Bryson, wondering where he got the nerve to think he is inferior to Landon. “What makes you think he’ll win?” I question, the words escaping before I can stop them. 

The sadness in his eyes is heart-wrenching, the forced half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes is telling.  

“My mother?” I ask, already dreading the answer. 

He nods, confirming my suspicions. His fingers trail along my jaw, sending a flutter through my stomach, and then he cups my neck, his thumb stroking my skin softly.  

"Your mother is going to announce Landon as your Mated choice, no matter whom you choose tonight, just before the run.” 

A surge of anger hits me so hard I feel dizzy, but Bryson’s strong grip on my neck anchors me in the moment. 

“I made no such choice!” I hiss. 

“I know,” he says, his voice steady and grounding. “Your father told us that if he were to choose, it would be me. But, Landon struck up some deal with your mother at some point today, she warned me to stay away from you, told me of her plans. Honestly, Sin, I hope you leave and never come back. You don’t belong to either of us.” 

His words, though bittersweet, have a calming effect. The anger seeps away slowly as I ponder what he said, the reality of my situation settling heavily on my shoulders.  

Before I can voice my thoughts, a change in the atmosphere draws my attention. Turning, I see Landon pushing through the crowd towards us, his expression tight with barely contained frustration. His confident stride is tempered by a certain caution, his fists clenched at his sides, war blazing in his eyes.