Chapter 1I walked into the Moonstone Resort and canceled the mating ceremony reservation.
The manager stared at me like I'd just announced I was going rogue.
"Luna Harrington, you put down a fifteen-thousand-dollar deposit." His eyes darted nervously toward the door. "Shouldn't you wait for the Alpha Harrington to return before - "
"No."
I slid the contract across the polished wood desk, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin.
"He's still at Tidecaller Bay with his childhood packmate. Watching the moon jellies glow."
The manager's nostrils flared slightly. He could probably smell the bitterness rolling off me in waves.
For six years, Caleb Harrington - Alpha of the Shadowpine Pack - had made that pilgrimage every summer.
Always claimed it was Pack business. Territory negotiations with the coastal wolves.
But his Instagram told a different story. Ocean at midnight. Bioluminescent waves. That same stretch of beach, year after year.
I'd asked him once if we could go there after our mating ceremony.
He'd barely looked up from the Pack ledgers.
"It's just water, Maeve. What's the big deal?"
Two days ago, I'd been helping him clear out old files from the Pack archives when I found it.
A folder labeled Tides.
Three hundred photos. Maybe more.
All of her.
Freya Yates. The she-wolf he'd grown up with. Standing barefoot in the surf, her white dress clinging to her legs, smiling at the camera like she owned the moon itself.
In one photo, she was crouched down, hands cupped full of glowing water. The note beneath it read: Freya says it looks like fallen stars.
The only trip Caleb and I ever took together was to Silvermist City to pick out my ceremonial gown.
He'd sat on the boutique sofa, scrolling through Pack messages, not even glancing up when I stepped out in the first dress.
Or the second.
Or the seventh.
"They all look the same," he'd muttered. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."
I'd believed him.
The manager pushed the refund paperwork toward me now, his expression uncomfortable.
"What about the ceremony arbor? Didn't you already have it custom-made with both Pack sigils?"
I looked at the photo he slid across the desk.
White silk draped between two ancient oak posts. Our names carved into the wood: Maeve Lowell & Caleb Harrington. Two Packs, One Bond.
My throat tightened.
I'd stayed up three nights straight designing that arbor. Sent him seven different versions.
He'd never opened a single file.
I swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand.
"Cancel everything."
I'd already submitted my resignation to the Pack council that morning. Cleared out my desk at the Shadowpine headquarters.
Erased myself from this territory like I'd never existed.
The tide wasn't going to wait for me.
So I was done waiting for it.
My phone buzzed as I stepped outside.
Ruby Hayes. My best friend since we were pups.
"Maeve. Tell me you didn't actually cancel the island ceremony."
I glanced back at the resort entrance. The welcome sign was still up: Celebrating the Union of Luna Maeve Lowell & Alpha Caleb Harrington.
"I canceled it."
"You put months into planning that." Ruby's voice cracked. "Are you sure you can just... walk away?"
"Yes."
"Does Caleb even know?"
"He's out of town."
Silence.
Then: "Freya again?"
"Yeah."
"Mae..." Ruby hesitated. "Are you sure there's something going on? They grew up in the same Pack. Maybe they're just - "
"Just friends?"
My hand tightened around my car keys until the metal bit into my palm. My wolf snarled low in my chest.
"Friends don't take three hundred photos of each other on the same beach over six consecutive summers, Ruby."
She didn't have an answer for that.
I ended the call and opened Caleb's Instagram.
Posted three minutes ago: a shot of the ocean at night, the waves edged in pale blue light.
Caption: The bioluminescence is stronger this year.
I stared at the screen until the words blurred.
He'd posted something similar last summer. I'd been so excited, I'd practically bounced into his office.
"It's beautiful! Can we go there someday? For our honeymoon maybe?"
He'd frowned at me like I'd suggested we abandon the Pack and go feral.
"It's crawling with tourists. Nothing special about it."
But the photos on his hard drive told a different story.
No crowds. Just Freya.
Freya standing on the rocks in a sundress, wind in her hair.
Freya in the passenger seat of his truck, holding half a coconut, laughing.
Freya with her eyes closed, face tilted toward the salt breeze like she was tasting freedom itself.
He'd saved every single one of her summers.
I'd spent every single one of mine waiting for him to come home.
When I pulled up to our den - a modest cabin on the edge of Shadowpine territory - I didn't get out right away.
Instead, I scrolled through the photos on my phone.
Twenty-six pictures of Caleb and me together.
Fifteen from the first year we'd met. Back when he still looked at me like I mattered.
The other eleven were scattered across the next four years. Three of them were from Pack gatherings where he stood next to me like someone had shoved him into frame at the last second.
Freya, though?
Three hundred photos.
My phone buzzed again. Video call.
Caleb.
I answered.
He filled the screen in a loose linen shirt, hair messy from the wind. Behind him, I could see the boardwalk - food stalls, string lights, the ocean stretching into the dark.
"Hey. You eat yet?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'll be back in two days. Just keep an eye on the ceremony stuff till then, okay?"
"Okay."
He glanced to the side and smiled. The kind of smile I hadn't seen in years.
Relaxed. Unguarded. Real.
"Caleb!" A female voice, bright and easy. "The shrimp skewers are ready!"
He turned toward her.
"Coming."
When he looked back at me, his tone was casual. Dismissive.
"Freya needs me. Gotta go."
"What's she doing there?"
"She's been going through a rough patch. I came along to help her clear her head."
My wolf bristled.
"Does she need you to clear her head every summer?"
His expression darkened.
"Maeve, drop the attitude. Her father died when she was young. Summers are hard for her."
I said nothing.
Because my father had died in the summer too.
And Caleb knew that.
Three years ago, on the anniversary of my father's death, I'd begged him to come with me to Graywood Cemetery. To stand with me at my father's grave.
He'd said he couldn't get away. Pack obligations.
Later that night, I'd seen Freya's Instagram story: Caleb holding an umbrella over her head as rain poured down on the beach.
Her caption: Grateful I don't have to face the waves alone.
Caleb's voice pulled me back.
"Oh - I got you something. A seashell wind chime. Freya picked it out. Said it'd look good on our balcony."
I stared at him through the screen, my throat too tight to speak.
Even the smallest detail of my mating ceremony had to be chosen by her.
"Don't overthink it," Caleb said. "We'll talk when I get back."
The call ended.
I sat there in the dark, staring at my phone.
Then I typed one word:
Okay.
I went inside.
And I started packing.
Chapter 2
Caleb showed up a day early.
I heard him before I saw him - the heavy thud of his duffel hitting the floor, boots kicked off and left sideways in the entryway.
"Damn, I'm wiped." He ran a hand through his hair. "Caught the dawn flight back."
I didn't move from the couch.
My wolf had gone still the second his scent hit the air. Salt. Sunscreen. And underneath it all - her. Jasmine and sea spray.
He dug into his bag and pulled out a crumpled paper sack, tossing it onto the table between us.
"Got you something."
Then he reached back into the duffel - carefully this time - and lifted out a sleek black box tied with silver ribbon.
"Don't mess with this one. It's for Freya."
I stared at the box.
"What is it?"
"Custom hairpin. Pearl inlay. She's got some shoot coming up and needed something special."
He said it like he was talking about picking up groceries.
I opened the paper bag.
Inside was a wind chime. Barely bigger than my fist. The price sticker was still on it - $4.99. One of the shells had a crack running down the middle.
I held it up.
"This is what you brought me?"
His brow furrowed.
"You like that kind of stuff, don't you?"
Since when?
Last spring, I'd found a pair of pearl earrings at a shop in town. Simple. Elegant. Sixty bucks.
Caleb had glanced at the price tag and shaken his head.
"We've got the mating ceremony coming up. Don't blow money on things you don't need."
So I'd put them back.
Freya's hairpin, though? I'd seen that brand before. Handcrafted. Imported. Four hundred and fifty dollars, easy.
"Did she ask you to grab it?"
"Nah." He shrugged. "Saw it in a window and figured it'd suit her."
I nodded slowly.
"How thoughtful."
He pulled off his jacket, completely missing the edge in my voice.
That night, his mother called.
"Maeve. Tell me you've finished the seating arrangements."
"Not yet."
"Why are you dragging your feet on this?" Her tone sharpened. "Freya stopped by last week and helped me go over the menu. She said a sit-down seafood dinner was too stiff. Suggested we do food stations instead. Much more modern."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Freya is redesigning our menu?"
"She understands these things, dear. You've been so busy with Pack duties, I didn't want to add to your plate."
"This is my mating ceremony."
Silence.
When she spoke again, her voice had gone cold.
"I'm aware. Freya was only trying to help. You don't need to be so defensive."
Caleb came out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair.
"Who's that?"
"Your mother."
I hit speaker.
His mother's voice filled the room.
"One more thing. Freya looked at the arbor inscription and said it sounded a bit... juvenile. So she rewrote it. I'm sending it over now."
My phone buzzed.
I opened the image.
My original words:
In the quiet of time, we found love in each other.
Freya's version:
Through every ebb and flow, I'm lucky to have you.
Caleb leaned over my shoulder and nodded.
"Yeah. Hers is better. More emotional."
I looked up at him.
"Did you even read mine?"
"Of course I did."
"And?"
He shrugged.
"It was fine."
Fine.
I'd stayed up two nights in a row writing that line. Trying to find the right words. Something that felt like us.
And all he could say was fine.
Freya scribbled something down in five minutes, and suddenly it had feeling.
His mother kept going.
"Maeve, I'm saying this because I care. A Luna needs to have a sense of occasion. You can be so... practical. Maybe take a page from Freya's book."
I ended the call.
Caleb's jaw tightened.
"Why'd you hang up on her?"
"Because I'm done being told to act more like Freya."
"She's just trying to help."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Why is she involved in every part of this ceremony?"
He dragged a hand through his damp hair, frustration rolling off him in waves.
"She's helping out. You're buried in Pack work. What's wrong with my mother asking her opinion?"
"Did you ever ask if I wanted her involved?"
"Do I need to run every little decision by you?"
Every little decision.
The menu. The arbor. The decorations.
Everything that was supposed to be mine had become fair game for Freya to take over - because it was easier for Caleb that way.
He crossed to the coffee table and picked up the wind chime.
"Let's hang this on the balcony. Freya said it'd sound nice when the breeze comes through."
I stared at the cracked shell dangling from the string.
"We don't get ocean breezes here."
He paused.
I took the wind chime from his hand and dropped it back into the bag.
"So, this is completely pointless."
Chapter 3
Friday night. Pack gathering at some grill joint on the south end of Shadowpine territory.
I didn't want to go.
Caleb was already at the door, keys in hand, tapping his foot.
"Come on. These are wolves I've known since I was a pup. Don't make this weird."
I grabbed a jacket and followed him out.
Freya was there when we walked in.
Of course she was.
She'd claimed the corner booth, wearing some strappy blue dress that looked like it cost more than my entire wardrobe. And pinned in her hair - gleaming under the dim bar lights - was the pearl clip.
The second she spotted Caleb, her whole face lit up.
"Hey! Saved you a spot."
He didn't even hesitate. Just slid right in next to her like that's where he'd always belonged.
I stood there for a beat.
Then took the seat on his other side.
Quinn Vance - one of Caleb's old packmates - lifted his beer and grinned.
"Look who finally showed up. The future Luna herself." He winked. "Big day's coming up soon, yeah?"
Caleb nodded.
"Yeah. Soon."
Freya propped her chin on one hand, lips curling into a smile.
"Well. It hasn't happened yet. Plenty of time for things to... shift."
The whole table went quiet.
Quinn cleared his throat.
"Freya just says whatever pops into her head. Don't sweat it."
I wasn't sweating it.
I was staring at the hairpin. At the way the pearls caught the light every time she moved.
One of the she-wolves leaned in, eyes wide.
"That clip is stunning. Where'd you get it?"
Freya's gaze slid toward Caleb.
"A friend picked it up for me."
Caleb didn't miss a beat.
"I got it for her. Thought it'd suit her."
The she-wolf blinked, then glanced at me.
"Oh. Well, I'm sure Caleb got you something nice too, right Maeve?"
He waved it off.
"She's not really into that stuff."
I smiled.
"Funny. I don't remember saying that."
Caleb's head snapped toward me.
Freya immediately looped her arm through mine, voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Maeve, don't take it the wrong way. Caleb's just... not great with romantic gestures. I'm sure whatever he got you was more practical."
"Like what?"
She hesitated.
I didn't.
"Like a five-dollar wind chime with a cracked shell."
Dead silence.
Caleb's jaw tightened.
"Did you really need to say that in front of everyone?"
"Did you need to announce I don't like jewelry?"
Freya sighed - soft, wounded.
"Maeve. When you act like this, you just make everything harder for him."
The words hit like claws raking down my ribs.
So he was the victim here.
Which meant I wasn't allowed to be hurt. Wasn't allowed to push back.
Wasn't allowed to feel anything.
I excused myself to the restroom.
Freya followed.
She stood at the mirror, reapplying lipstick like we were just two she-wolves having a casual chat.
"You know, you don't have to see me as a threat."
I dried my hands.
"I don't have the energy to see you as anything."
She smiled.
"Good. Because Caleb and I go way back. Twenty years. I know him better than anyone." She capped the lipstick. "He doesn't say much, but deep down? He's a softie."
"What exactly are you wanting to say?"
"I want to say that - stop using this ceremony to guilt-trip him. He told me you've been making everything so complicated he can barely breathe."
My wolf snarled low in my chest.
"He talks to you about that?"
"We talk about everything."
She turned to face me, leaning back against the sink.
"I'll be real with you, Maeve. He picked you because you're stable. Reliable. You don't ask for much."
Her smile sharpened.
"But when he's with me? He gets to be himself."
I stared at her.
Then I laughed.
"Do you hear yourself right now?"
Her expression cooled.
"I'm just saying - don't hold on too tight. The more you corner an Alpha, the faster he runs."
"Do you have to corner him?"
"Nope."
She touched the clip in her hair.
"He comes to me all on his own."
When I stepped out, Caleb was waiting in the hallway.
"What took so long?"
"Freya and I were chatting."
His eyes darted toward the restroom door.
"She didn't say anything... out of line, did she?"
"What are you worried she said?"
He scowled.
"You've been picking fights all night."
When it was time to leave, Freya stretched and yawned.
"I had a couple drinks. Probably shouldn't drive."
Caleb was already reaching for his keys.
"I'll take you home."
I stepped in front of him.
"She lives north. We're east. How is that even remotely on the way?"
"It's late. She shouldn't be alone."
"And me?"
"You're coming with us."
Freya took the front seat.
I climbed into the back.
She plugged her phone into the car like she'd done it a hundred times before, and some acoustic song about the ocean started playing.
"Oh my god, Caleb - remember this? That little inn we stayed at last summer?"
He grinned.
"You tried to sing along and butchered every line."
They laughed. Talked about the beach. The inn. Some taco stand on the boardwalk.
I sat in the back and felt like a hitchhiker.
When we pulled up to her place, Freya leaned down before getting out, eyes locking on mine.
"See you at the ceremony, Maeve."
Then she turned to Caleb.
"Don't forget - my shoot's next Saturday."
"I won't."
The door shut.
I looked at him.
"You remember what next Saturday is?"
He frowned, thinking.
"It's... Saturday?"
"It's the anniversary of my father's death."
The car went still.
Three years ago, he hadn't come with me.
This year, he'd forgotten entirely.
His hands stayed on the wheel. His voice dropped.
"I can meet you there in the afternoon."
"What about the morning?"
"Freya already booked the photographer. It'd be a pain to reschedule."
I stared out the window.
"You know what my father asked me before he died?"
Silence.
"He asked when you were coming over for dinner."
Caleb said nothing.
"You never came. Not once."
After a long pause, he muttered, "There'll be other chances."
I laughed.
My father was dead.
There were no other chances.
