Chapter 22
What If
Alexa
The next morning, Harlow guides me to breakfast at the main bonfire. People sit on wide logs arranged in a loose circle around the fire, waiting as bowls of oatmeal are passed out one by one.
“Sit right here,” he says, nodding toward a spot beside the fire. “I’ll grab some extra firewood. Save me a bowl, yeah?” He flashes a quick smile before heading off.
“Yeah. I will,” I say, nodding back. Somehow, that small smile says everything about what we shared in the last couple of hours.
My thoughts stray for a second, sliding back to the memory of Harlow’s touch, then snap into place when a middle-aged woman approaches with two children in tow, a boy and a girl, maybe eight and five. Damn. There’s no way they can read my thoughts, right?
She moves slowly, handing out bowls of oatmeal to those waiting. When she reaches me, she stops.
For a moment, no one around us moves. Her eyes flick over me, sharp and uncertain. The children freeze too, their small hands tightening around the hem of her skirt. Their fingers curl, knuckles whitening.
They stare at me like they are trying to decide whether I am real or dangerous. Their brows crease. Their throats work as they swallow hard.
“Hello,” I greet them, offering a small smile to the youngest child. He immediately hides behind his mother’s skirt, then peeks out again, eyes wide with curiosity.
“Your little brother’s cute, isn’t he? How old are you?” I ask with a bright smile, patient in the way you have to be with children.
Instead of answering, the child tilts his head. “Are you Uncle Harlow’s friend?”
“Hush, don’t talk,” his mother says quickly.
She steps closer and places two plastic bowls on the empty log beside me. They’re filled with oatmeal, topped with a scattering of dried raisins.
Her hands tremble as she does it. She fidgets, glancing up at my face like she’s waiting for permission. Then she straightens, bows her head slightly, and gently guides her children away, both palms pressed to their backs as they move.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Jack comes over, his footsteps heavy against the ground. He addresses the woman, but she only shakes her head.
“You didn’t ask her to play with you, Gina?” he asks the older child.
“But Uncle Jack, Mom said we shouldn’t play with her,” Gina answers honestly.
Her mother gasps, mouth falling open. She reaches for Gina with both hands, trying to quiet her with the edge of her apron. Her eyes flick to me, pupils blown wide. Tension thickens the air, and a few people nearby straighten, like they’re bracing for something.
“It’s fine! We’re friends, and she’s not dangerous, I swear!” Jack calls out, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Slowly, heads lower again over bowls of oatmeal. Gina and her mother look back at Jack, searching his face for the truth.
“Trust me,” he says, calmer now.
“If you say so.” The woman finally loosens her grip on her children and exhales. “You want more oatmeal?” she asks him.
“I’m good,” he says.
They move on to serve the others still waiting. Jack drops onto the large rock across from me and squints. “You’re not eating?”
“Oh, I’m waiting for Harlow,” I say, glancing toward the forest trail. He’s still nowhere in sight.
“Alright.” Jack shrugs, pulls a cigarette pack from his jacket, and lights one. I nudge pebbles through the dry grass with my foot while he smokes in silence.
“So,” he says after a moment, “you all healed up? Just like that?”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks for helping me.” I smile, but he only shrugs again.
“No need to thank me. Most of it was Harlow. And Lisa and Gina helped with your clothes.” He nods toward the small family.
“Oh. So those are Lisa’s clothes?” I ask carefully, the words catching on the way out. Including the underwear? I keep that thought to myself.
“Yeah,” he says, taking another drag.
I make a mental note to thank Lisa and her kids properly. Maybe helping with dishes later would be a decent start.
“And… your name is Alexa Dawson? Not Brianna Smith? The only pure Alpha heiress of the Silver Moon Pack?” he stutters, suddenly sounding nervous.
I let out a long breath before answering. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it? Sometimes I can’t believe it myself.”
“Well, I still can’t believe you’re a Lycan,” Jack says, a small laugh tugging at his lips.
“Two of you, actually. What are the odds of seeing a healthy, living pair in one lifetime, and not just hearing about it from some old story our grandma used to tell? A century ago, folks would’ve laughed you out of the room if you said you were a Lycan.
” He shakes his head and takes another drag from his cigarette.
“You believe me now?” I lift a brow, challenging him with a look.
“Damn right I do. If you’d seen how much blood soaked into your shirt and the van seat from your back, no regular wolf would’ve walked away from that. So it must be true.”
“That, plus my healing ritual,” I explain. “Harlow shared his energy with me.”
Jack’s face lights up. “So you can do magical healing stuff too? That’s damn impressive. Now I really think we’ve got a shot at becoming something strong.”
“Something strong?” I frown. “What do you mean?”
“A pack,” he says. “We’ve been trying to pull ourselves together for years. Some folks are hesitant, sure, but with you as Luna and Harlow as Alpha, we might actually make it happen.” His eyes shine like he’s already seeing it come true.
“Who are you calling Alpha?”
Harlow’s voice cuts in from behind us. His hair is slightly messy, sweat catching the light on his temples and arms. Black latex gloves cover his hands as he carries a stack of firewood and sets it down with care, arranging it for the main bonfire.
“Come on, Harlow. We’ve been over this.” Jack swings his legs, then turns toward him, leaning forward while Harlow keeps working.
“First, I can’t protect everyone. Second, we’d need a permanent magical location, not neutral ground. Third, forming a new pack means backing from others, and that’s not something we’re likely to get.”
Jack doesn’t back off. He’s like a street vendor who refuses to take no for an answer, pitching the idea over and over.
“First off, you wouldn’t be alone. Alexa and I would help.”
“Uh, Jack,” I cut in, “I want to support him, but I’m not sure I could protect everyone either.”
“No, no.” He waves me off. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Yes! You’re way stronger than you think!” Mythril cheers inside my head.
“Goddess, you scared me. Are you feeling better?” I ask her silently.
“Yeah. Eldritch woke me up.”
“Who?”
“Harlow’s wolf,” she replies, like it’s nothing.
I’m about to ask more about that when Jack barrels right on, his voice bright again.
“Second, we could use this area. These mountains are perfect. Clean spring water, miles from humans, plenty of space for crops and livestock.”
He stands now, growing more animated as he follows Harlow’s movements, arms lifting high as if he can present the hills themselves as proof.
“Except you’re forgetting this is a national park,” Harlow says, straightening once the fire grows strong enough to warm the air. “It’s protected by humans. You can’t build permanent homes here, and you definitely can’t build a magical town.”
“What if we drive the people out of the nearest human settlement?” Jack presses on.
“We can shapeshift and scare them off!” Mythril bounces around inside my head.
“Like I’ve told you before, Jack, more than once,” Harlow says flatly. “It’s a bad idea. You don’t want humans hunting us like some kind of outlawed animals.” He pulls off his gloves and tucks them into his pocket, snuffing out Jack’s excitement yet again.
“Then we do it the quiet way. We reach out to other packs. Ask for support. They could loan us money so we can buy land in a magical settlement. If it benefits them, they’ll say yes.”
“No, they won’t.” Harlow lets out a long breath. He reaches for a bowl of oatmeal from the log beside me. I take mine too and stir it absently.
“But you’re Lycans,” Jack insists, eyes wide. “You’re stronger than most of those alphas.”
“I said stop it, Jack.” Harlow snaps, a low growl slipping through his words.
Jack freezes. His mouth shuts tight, lips folding inward. Harlow, still stiff with irritation, sits down beside me.
“Harlow? Please, don’t be mad at him.” I reach out through his wolf, carefully testing the mind link. There’s no response. Maybe it doesn’t work that way.
Then Harlow glances at me, his dark-brown eyes sharp and knowing. Oh. He can hear me. The connection from last night is real. His voice lowers, restrained, like he’s honoring my request not to tear into Jack again.
“Besides,” he mutters, “Alexa and I are leaving tomorrow.”
He stands and walks away, bowl in hand, disappearing into the tent. I try again, calling him back through the bond, asking him to sit with me, but there’s nothing. Mythril curls in on herself, disappointed, and slips back into the quiet corners of my mind.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” I breathe, the bowl resting on my lap.
“Oh, it’s alright. I’m used to it,” he says.
His tone is tired, even if he claims familiarity with Harlow’s temper. He sits across from me again, steady as ever, slipping a cigarette between his lips. I lift a spoonful of oatmeal and eat.
“I just thought maybe I could have a warm home again,” he says softly. “Thought I’d finally found an Alpha and a Luna who wouldn’t treat an Omega like dirt.”
His gaze drifts toward the distant valley, lost somewhere far beyond the camp. The soft clink of spoons and low murmurs around us fill the cloudy spring morning.
“Harlow doesn’t mean any harm,” I say gently, breaking the silence. He turns toward me, studying my face, like he’s checking whether I truly understand.
“I know. We all carry our own mess,” he says with a shrug. “If I knew why Harlow refuses to lead, maybe I could help him through it. He, and you too, you’ve got potential. Feels like a waste.”
I’m not sure how much Jack really knows about Harlow. Truth is, even I don’t know him that well. We met briefly six years ago, nothing more.
Even now, I haven’t had the chance to hear his stories, the paths he’s walked, or the reason behind the Alpha necklace he still wears. Whatever his quest is, it clearly isn’t finished. He still has the necklace, still roams as a rogue.
“He’s just… I’m just…” I let out a slow breath. “We’re not ready.” That’s all I can say for now.
Jack grows quiet again, smoking, eyes narrowed as he looks up at the wide sky. We sit with our thoughts. Maybe he’s talking to his wolf. Eventually, whatever argument he’s having seems to fade.
“So, it’s true?” he asks. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I need to meet my father’s lawyer at the Silver Moon Pack.”
Jack whistles and shakes his head. “Sounds like another suicide run.”
“I know. But he’s my only chance to clear my debt and expose my stepmother. And who knows, maybe when we come back, I can convince Harlow to reconsider. Maybe we’ll be ready then.”
The idea seems to spark something in him. His eyes brighten, hope flickering back to life. He grips my shoulder, smiling wide.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he says eagerly.
“I am?” I smile, brow creasing.
“You are. You’re a damn genius.”
“Thanks,” I reply, even though I’m not entirely sure what just made him so excited.
That afternoon, Harlow and I sit inside the tent. A map of the Silver Moon Pack territory glows on his tablet, spread out on the table between us.
“I contacted Mrs. Geeny earlier using the public phone in a bar,” he says. “With some cryptic message, I told her we’re heading back.”
“Seriously?”
He nods. “She’ll set up a meeting with Mr. Pascoe at her place.”
“Thank the Goddess,” I breathe, hands clasping in front of my chest.
I can’t hide it. I’ve been waiting for this moment. The day I finally get to prove myself to everyone who ever looked down on me.
I plan to tell my stepmother’s treachery to him. My hands clench together as I imagine the shocked looks on Mrs. Gertrude’s and Lorraine’s faces when we meet again. When their carefully crafted masks finally crumble, the blame will fall where it belongs, and I will reclaim what was taken from me.
Maybe there will be one or two fights, but now that my body is fully in sync with my wolf’s energy, I’ll win this time. After that, we’ll need to leave Silver Moon fast, before Alpha Gabriel discovers us. At least in my mind, the plan is solid. It will work.
“Yes. Mrs. Geeny said she’d handle everything quietly.”
“Good,” I say. “If we move fast, we can be out of Silver Moon territory before the sun rise.”
Relief washes over me. I cover his hand with mine and lean in, resting my cheek against his rough palm, savoring its warmth. Gratitude swells in my chest. He’s here, standing with me. He’s protecting me.
“Thank you, Harlow,” I whisper. “That means more to me than you know.”
He cups my face with both hands, his thumbs gentle as they trace my cheeks. He leans closer, and shows the steady warmth in his brown eyes, the same eyes that have never wavered when I needed him most.
I haven’t done much for him yet, but maybe later, after we make it out of Silver Moon, I can. Once my priorities are settled, I’ll help him uncover the truth about his real parents. Maybe I’ll even help him buy magical land so he can finally form the pack he deserves.
His breath brushes my lips. I close my eyes, waiting for that soft kiss, the kind that always leads us somewhere deeper, somewhere safe.
“Hey, you motherfuckers!” Jack shouts as he bursts into the tent. “The van’s ready and shining like a damn new Lambo! Oh— Did I… interrupt something?”