The day after the dream, Calla couldn't focus.
She stirred the healer's herb pot the wrong way and nearly burned a batch of healing paste. Her mind kept going back to the voice in the silver forest, to the way her ring had glowed again. But most of all, she couldn't stop hearing the word:
"Ours."
Whose voice was it? Was it her wolf? A memory? Or something deeper?
"Calla," the healer called, waving a hand in front of her face. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Sorry," Calla said quickly, adjusting the spoon in the pot. "Just… a strange dream."
The healer looked at her for a moment, then smiled softly. "Dreams carry meaning, child. Especially under a crescent moon."
Calla glanced down at her hands, now stained with bits of crushed leaves. Her fingers brushed the ring. It was cold again. Silent.
Just a dream, she told herself.
But her wolf was pacing.
He's getting closer, the voice inside her said.
"Who?" she whispered aloud before realizing she spoke.
The healer didn't hear.
---
Later that afternoon, Calla walked through the village. Their side of the pack land was peaceful, with worn dirt paths between simple wooden houses. Omegas lived humbly—no stone walls or second floors, just sturdy homes with small porches, flower pots, and wind chimes that rang softly in the breeze.
Her house stood in a row of four others. Mika lived just two doors down.
She liked it here. It was quiet. Safe.
Still, her eyes drifted toward the far side of the village—where the Alpha's mansion stood.
Darien's house towered above the rest, made of dark stone and polished wood, with wide glass windows and a large open balcony on the second floor. It wasn't arrogant. It was… powerful. Like it had grown from the ground on its own.
From the edge of the hill, he could see every house in the pack.
Calla hugged herself.
It was strange.
The Alpha had always seemed distant, powerful, and far removed from her quiet life. But now she had seen him up close—felt something strange inside her shift when he was near.
And yet, there was no bond.
No sparks. No pull.
Wasn't that how mates were supposed to know each other?
---
In his room, Darien stood at the balcony, looking out over the village.
His wolf paced inside him again. It had been restless all day.
He didn't know what he was looking for—just a feeling. That strange tug he couldn't explain.
He watched as a figure crossed the street below. A girl in a brown cloak, head down, her long braid swaying behind her.
His wolf paused.
It's her again.
Darien frowned. He didn't recognize her. No name came to mind. Just a scent he couldn't place—faint, warm, like wildflowers after rain.
But the bond hadn't formed. That couldn't be her.
Could it?
"Why are you so certain?" Darien asked quietly.
His wolf growled. Because I feel it.
Darien closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't have time for mysteries. There were rogues gathering near the borders. Elders murmuring about tensions. His people needed him focused.
Still, the memory of that girl lingered in the back of his mind.
---
That night, Mika invited Calla to eat dinner at her place.
Mika's home was cozy, with patched curtains and the smell of stew filling the air. They sat on the floor, bowls in hand, talking softly.
"You've been off lately," Mika said between bites. "Did something happen?"
Calla hesitated. "I… don't know. I've been feeling strange."
"Strange how?"
Calla shook her head. "Like something's coming. Like something inside me is… waiting."
Mika tilted her head. "You've been dreaming again, haven't you?"
Calla nodded.
"About the forest?"
"Yes. But it's changing. There was a voice this time. And… the ring."
Mika frowned. "Your mother's ring?"
"I thought so. But I don't know if it really was hers. It was just… there. I've had it for as long as I remember. The healers said I was found with it."
Mika stared at her. "You don't know who gave it to you?"
Calla shook her head.
The silence between them grew thick.
"Calla," Mika whispered, "maybe it's time you found out what that ring really is."
---
That night, Calla sat on her bed, the moonlight casting pale light across her floor.
She slipped the ring from her finger and held it up.
Simple silver. No carvings. No markings.
But when the moonlight touched it, it shimmered faintly, as if hiding something within.
Calla closed her eyes and placed it over her heart.
What are you?
Her wolf answered softly.
You're not ready. But soon… you will be.