Morning came too soon.
The light that slipped through the thin curtains felt too bright, too sharp — like the world was trying to wake me up from a dream I didn't want to remember.
But it wasn't a dream.
Jason was real.
His offer was real.
And the white envelope sitting on my small wooden table reminded me of that.
I sat up slowly on my thin mattress, brushing my tangled hair from my face.
My room was small, barely big enough for a bed, a table, and a chair.
The air smelled like damp walls and cold bread.
Everything about this life was quiet, ordinary — safe.
But ever since he appeared, nothing felt safe anymore.
My hands itched to touch the envelope again, but I didn't.
I just stared at it, my chest tight.
He wanted me to pretend to be his Luna.
To stand beside him during his Alpha Ceremony.
To live under the same roof again.
Six months.
That's what he said.
Six months of lies.
Six months of pretending not to feel anything when he looked at me.
I could almost hear his voice in my head again — You don't have to love me, Aria. Just give me time.
I hated that part of me that wanted to believe him.
"Don't be stupid," I whispered to myself. "He's still Jason. He's still the reason you lost everything."
But then another voice whispered back — He saved your job.
I stood up, pacing the room. My bare feet touched the cold floor as my thoughts spun faster and faster.
If I took the deal, I'd finally have money.
I could pay for school again. I could eat more than one meal a day.
I could stop running.
But what would it cost me?
My pride? My freedom? My heart — again?
I sat on the edge of the bed and finally picked up the envelope.
It was dry now, but the ink on his signature was slightly smudged, like he'd signed it in the rain.
I slid a finger under the flap and pulled out the papers.
It was a real contract — stamped with the Blue Moon Pack insignia, sealed, formal.
Every word looked professional and cold, like this was just business.
> In exchange for temporary service as the acting Luna of Blue Moon Pack, Aria Crowns will be compensated with…
I couldn't even read the amount written there. My eyes blurred.
It was more money than I'd ever seen in my life. Enough to change everything.
My throat tightened.
"Why would he do this?" I whispered. "Why now?"
I heard a soft knock on the door.
My heart jumped.
I froze, clutching the papers. "Who is it?"
"Delivery," a voice said.
I frowned. I hadn't ordered anything.
Still, I opened the door slowly.
A young boy stood there, soaked from the rain, holding a small white box. "Someone sent this," he said.
"Who?"
He shrugged. "A man in a black car. Said it's from Mr. Michaels."
Jason.
I took the box carefully. "Thank you."
He ran off, disappearing down the street.
I closed the door and sat back down, staring at the box like it might explode.
When I opened it, I found a single item inside — a silver necklace.
Simple. Elegant. Familiar.
I remembered it instantly.
It was mine.
The one I'd lost the night I was banished.
The one my mother had given me when I turned sixteen.
Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them.
He had kept it.
All this time.
Why?
I set it gently on the table beside the contract, my chest aching with too many emotions I didn't want to name.
Maybe he really did regret everything.
Maybe he really wanted to make things right.
But I knew what would happen if I trusted him again.
I'd fall.
And this time, I might not survive it.
I pushed the contract away, trying to clear my head.
Then my phone rang — the screen flickering from the water damage, but I could still see the name.
Mr. Davis.
My manager.
I hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
> "Aria," his voice said, sharp and nervous. "I need you to come in."
I blinked. "Now? My shift's not till evening."
> "I know, but something's come up. Important."
His tone was strange — like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to sound scared or grateful.
> "And, uh… don't be late this time. The owner's here."
My stomach dropped. "Owner?"
But the line had already gone dead.
I stared at the phone, then at the contract again.
Jason.
He wouldn't… would he?
I threw on a jacket and hurried out of my apartment, clutching my umbrella. The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled like thunder.
By the time I reached the pizza shop, my pulse was racing.
Through the glass windows, I could already see him — tall, calm, powerful, sitting at one of the tables like he owned the world.
Which, technically, he did.
He looked up the second I stepped inside.
His eyes locked on mine.
And I knew.
I knew this wasn't about my job.
It was about the decision I hadn't made yet.
I took a deep breath and walked up to him.
> "What are you doing here?" I asked quietly.
He smiled faintly. "Waiting."
"For what?"
> "Your answer."
My heart pounded in my chest. "Jason, I can't—"
> "Don't say no yet," he interrupted gently. "Just hear me out."
He slid a coffee across the table toward me. "You look like you haven't slept."
"I haven't," I said honestly.
He leaned forward, his eyes soft but unreadable. "Then let's fix that. Sign the contract. Come back to the Blue Moon Pack. You'll be safe there."
"Safe?" I repeated bitterly. "The last time I was there, I was thrown out in chains."
His expression hardened, guilt flickering across his face. "That won't happen again."
"How do I know that?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out something small — a folded photo.
He slid it toward me.
I hesitated, then opened it.
It was me.
Ten years ago.
Standing in the sunlight, smiling, holding a basket of flowers.
He had kept it all this time.
My throat tightened. "You kept this?"
> "I kept everything," he said softly. "Because I never stopped waiting for you."
The words hit harder than I wanted them to.
I looked away, blinking back tears.
> "You don't have to believe me now," he said quietly. "Just… come home, Aria. Even if it's only for a while."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to say no.
But my voice wouldn't come out.
The truth was, I didn't know what scared me more — the thought of saying no to him… or saying yes.
The silence between us stretched.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.
> "What is it?" I asked.
He stood abruptly, sliding his phone into his pocket. "The Alpha Council moved the ceremony date."
"What?"
> "It's in three weeks," he said, his voice low. "If I don't have a Luna by then…"
He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to.
Without a Luna, he'd lose everything.
He looked down at me one last time. "Three weeks, Aria. That's all the time I have."
Then he walked out — leaving me staring at the photo, the necklace, and the contract, my hands shaking.
Three weeks.
Three weeks to decide whether to step back into the world that destroyed me… or to let it all burn without me.
And somewhere deep inside my chest, my wolf whispered again — louder this time, harder to ignore.
Go back.