Chapter 3 - Yvonne
Five Years Ago
Pressing the bridge of my spectacles, I push them further up my nose until they’re comfortably set against my eyes, where I can see beyond the book I’m holding to my face.
A dry chuckle escapes my lips as my eyes flicker to the edge of the rim, where I’m able to get a better view of the outside, spying what the rest of the pack is up to while I’m in the sanctity of the library, all by myself.
I should be out there, mingling with the crowd as the members of the pack gather supplies in preparation for tonight’s bonfire.
But it’s not like I’m going to be there tonight, anyway.
Dropping my gaze, my attention is hardly on the words printed on the pages, despite how clear they are through the thick eyeglasses I have to wear to be able to see, but instead on the reason why I’m not out there right now.
No matter how much I've tried, I’ve never been able to fit in with the pack.
These glasses are one of the reasons why I’ve been ostracized; I mean, since when does a werewolf need glasses to see, right?
Unless it’s to make a spectacle of myself, a complete fool, my weaker vision deems me unfit to be part of the werewolf society.
That’s not the only reason I’ve been ostracized in the Snehvolk Pack.
My father and brother committed treason years ago when they led a group of humans to the doorstep of our secluded village under the guise that humans and werewolves could co-exist in a world where humans knew of our existence in the first place.
The humans had bad intentions, and my family members were beheaded for their crimes against the pack.
My mother tried her level best to make up for what they did by devoting herself to the service of this pack without taking a penny in return for her work as a cook, but it killed her eventually when her hard work led to a sickness she couldn’t afford to treat.
I was left on my own then, lurking in the shadows and hiding away from the torment of those who hadn’t forgiven my father and brother for what they did.
A shiver runs down my spine, leading me to sink further in the chair and pull the book closer to my face.
I wish I could lose myself in another Jane Austen masterpiece, but what was once my solace has steadily become an unending wave of uncontrollable fantasies that make it impossible to hold a decent conversation with the only person in the pack who has taken kindly to me.
Alpha Dawson Black.
He’s one of four alphas of the Snehvolk Pack, who’d taken his reign at the ripe age of eighteen and been on the council for the past seven years.
Often overlooked as someone too domineering and sovereign to be caught doing ordinary things in the pack, I was surprised when I found him browsing the library one morning a few months ago.
No one else comes up here except for me.
I’ve been using this spot as a hideout ever since I found myself alone in this pack, cast out of society without family to keep me company.
Three years is a long time for an Omega to be living alone, and I have no prospects of becoming a male wolf’s mate since my weak eyes and small wolf make me unfit to bear a pup.
The library was the one place I could escape, where I didn’t have to worry about all the missed opportunities and lose myself in a fictional world constructed on fantasies to keep me busy.
So I wasn’t expecting an alpha to walk into my life and turn my world on its head.
The unlikely friendship between an alpha and a pariah of an omega who cannot be forgiven for her family’s misdeeds has been strange.
While I try not to read too much into it, it’s impossible to remain oblivious to Alpha Dawson’s presence when it demands my attention.
Even now, as I’m facing the window to spy on the village, my nostrils fill with the heady scent of sandalwood and musk that signals his arrival in the library long before I hear his footsteps.
Turning my head slowly, I see him waltzing in with graceful steps that speak of his kind, warm nature, despite how bold his aura is. My breath hitches in my throat as he approaches, and I’m reminded of the feelings I’ve been denying.
I mean, it’s absurd that I would have feelings for the alpha at all.
But who am I to deny the effortless charm he oozes?
How am I supposed to not lose myself in the depths of his ocean blue eyes, imagining that I’m diving right in and taking a swim?
How can I not imagine running my hands through the flowing waves of his dark brown hair while feeling the cushions of plump lips against mine?
Shuddering from the intensity of the awareness that flows into my core, I try to remain as unfazed as possible when I plaster an oblivious, dumb smile on my face.
I didn’t think he’d come looking for me, especially this evening, when he should be preparing for the monthly bonfire with the other alphas.
Yet, here he is, floating forward as if his magnificent aura carries him over the floorboards toward me. When he’s beside my chair, he folds his arms across his chest as if he’s purposely flexing his bulging biceps to impress me.
I roll my eyes internally. Why would the alpha want to impress me, a lowly omega who has no place in the society he rules over?
“Hey, Yvie,” he greets me as a smirk tugs one corner of his mouth, his eyes twinkling at the scene of nightfall outside. “I knew I’d find you here.”
“Where else would I be, Alpha Dawson?” I giggle nervously as I follow his gaze to see that the pack members have dispersed from the village square and now make their way toward the pack den at the back of town.
“I thought you’d have finally gained the courage to enjoy the bonfire tonight.” Dawson glances at me, the twinkle in his blue eyes making them appear lighter.
Stifling the urge to blush, I turn my face away fully, not wanting him to know that his mere presence affects me like the characters in my favorite book, who can’t form a coherent thought in the presence of the men they have crushes on.
That’s all this is—a girlish crush, because Alpha Dawson is the only one in the pack who doesn’t harbor resentment toward me because of my family’s history.
“What am I gonna do at the bonfire, anyway?” I ask with a diffident shrug as I pull the book to my chest. “It’s not like I can read my books there.”
Dawson lets out a heaving sigh before his hand appears in front of my face, fingers spread out and palm facing me as if I’m meant to read it.
“Instead of reading your fantasies, why not live them, Yvie?” he offers, prompting me to frown at the question and lift my eyes to his. “You could do anything you want out there.”
“Anything?” I murmur thoughtfully, my mind drifting to the heinous desire of feeling his lips on mine. Surely that’s not what he meant.
Dawson nods, a smile curling his lips. “Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy danced, didn’t they?”
My frown deepens with curiosity. “You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”
Dawson chuckles in response as he turns to me and nods with his hand. “Of course I did. Now, will you dance with me?”
I pause as I stare at the hand he offers out, wondering how on earth I’d become so lucky as to find friendship with an alpha whose behavior belies his tough outer shell.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over these past few months, it’s that I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
That’s why I feel obliged to slip my hand into his before he leads me to my feet, pulling me close and effortlessly guiding me into position for what is bound to be an awkward dance.
He remains calm while my nerves become erratic, the closeness letting my mind race with sinful thoughts as I’m engulfed in the heady, masculine scent he exudes.
I’d lost myself then in a trance of the promise sparkling in his eyes, my mind empty when the dance, which wasn’t as awkward as I expected it to be, led to his lips finding mine with more promise.
I’d believed those unspoken words as he undressed me, and instead of joining the masses for the bonfire, we’d experienced our own sparks flying when he made sweet love to me against the bookshelves containing my favorite reads.
Present
A lump forms in my throat, growing stronger and more constricting of my airways, the faster I run through the woods toward the Sunrise village. I’d buried those memories far away, but Dawson’s sudden appearance as my savior this evening has opened up a can of worms.
That fateful night is etched into my soul, wounded by his abrupt rejection the day after that bonfire that we never attended.
I thought I’d resort to my old ways of being a recluse in the Snehvolk Pack’s library, the only place I could go to escape my pain, and where Dawson Black wouldn’t come to find me again.
Why would he, when he’d rejected me as his mate and shattered my heart into a million tiny fragments of what it once was?
I’d spent at least a week after that fateful night as a shell of my already socially awkward self, turning so far inwards that I had no choice but to feel it.
My intuition had become so heightened after Dawson rejected me, and I was crushed because I’d mistaken our connection for the fated mate bond.
That’s when I felt the growth inside my belly—felt that I had conceived Dawson’s child on that fateful night. Faced with his horrifying rejection of me, I had no choice but to escape and leave Girdwood for good.
That’s why I’m here now, having to wrestle against leering male wolves to put a roof over our heads. Why is it that Dawson is now the reason why I’m rushing to get my child and flee once again?