The career.
The stability.
The chance to do what I love and actually make a living from it.
But only if I have a pack.
I built this life alone. Without a pack. Without anyone's help—well, except for Hazel and her pack, who gave me jobs and friendship but never asked for anything in return. Except for Miss Bea who lets me work flexible hours at the bookshop. Except for Mrs. Chen who pays me to help at the flower shop and always sends me home with the leftover arrangements.
Okay, maybe not completely alone. But without a pack. Without pack bonds. Without anyone having that kind of power over me again.
Just me, my determination, and what Kael would call an 'unhealthy amount of optimism' but what I call survival instinct dressed up in glitter and aggressive positivity.
But maybe...being alone isn't the same as being strong.
Perhaps asking for help isn't the same as being weak.
That finding a pack doesn't have to mean repeating the past.
This could mean writing a different story.
Surely…this time could be different.
The thought terrifies and thrills me in equal measure. Like standing at the edge of a cliff with a parachute you're not entirely sure will open, but the view is so beautiful you might jump anyway.
I think about the Alpha from the bookshop.
The one with the maple-honey scent that made my hindbrain sit up and pay attention in ways I've been trying to ignore. The kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The gentle way he picked up my books. The fact that he bought me three expensive hardcovers because I mentioned I couldn't affordthem—no agenda, no strings, just because he wanted me to have something that made me happy.
A stranger who saw me want something and just... gave it to me.
That's not what Kael would have done. Kael would have bought me the books and then spent the next six months reminding me of my debt. Would have used it as proof of my dependence, my inadequacy, my inability to provide for myself. Would have twisted a gift into a weapon.
But that Alpha? He didn't even tell me his name. Didn't want credit. Just wanted me to have something nice. What kind of Alpha does that?
A good one. The kind who doesn't exist in my experience but exists in all the books I read. Or one I've been too scared to hope for.
Truth be told, there are good Alphas out there. There are packs that don't break you. I could find something real. Something that doesn't hurt. Something that feels like coming home instead of running away.
The thought terrifies me and thrills me in equal measure.
I pull up my phone, opening my notes app where I keep my daily affirmations.
I scroll past all the usual ones until I reach a blank page, and I start typing.
"I am worthy of good things. I am worthy of success. I am worthy of a pack that treats me with respect and kindness. I am worthy of taking risks that scare me. I am worthy of the life I'm building."
I read it back to myself, letting the words sink in.
I am worthy.
My email dings.
I look down to see a new message from Charlotte Webb, subject line: Evergreen Media Collective - Holiday Campaign Contract.
The contract. The opportunity. The catch.
Alright, Reverie. You need a pack.
