The Gamma's Choice

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The frosty air bites at my cheeks as I lead Ethan through the heart of our pack's village, each breath materializing in white puffs before vanishing into the winter sky. The snow underfoot crunches, a soft symphony accompanying our tour. Ethan’s presence is a heat by my side, an intriguing contrast to the chill that has seeped deep into my bones.

"Over there," I gesture with a mittened hand, "is the communal hall. It’s the hub for gatherings and celebrations." My voice is steady, but I can feel Ethan's sapphire gaze on me, intense and probing, making it hard to concentrate.

"Looks sturdy," he remarks, his tone appreciative, yet hinting at something more. There's a weight to his words, like they carry secrets I'm itching to unravel.

"Built by the first settlers of our pack," I reply, puffing out a cloud of warmth. "It has weathered many winters."

"Like this one?" Ethan asks, a playful edge to his question, but I hear the underlying concern.

I nod, solemn now. "This winter is harsher than any we've faced in years." We move past a row of cabins, their windows frosted over, smoke coiling from chimneys into the gray afternoon. "Food resources are running low. It's been tough on everyone."

"Sounds like you could use some help." His words are casual, yet they send a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

"Maybe," I admit, avoiding his gaze. He's a rogue wolf, not bound by pack law or loyalty. Yet here he stands, offering aid. It's unsettling—and undeniably alluring.

"Tell me what you need," he presses, and the proximity of his body sends a jolt of awareness through me.

"More than I can say," I murmur, thinking of the lean times, of how the pack has pulled together, our resilience tested. "We're hunters, but the forest is giving up less and less."

"Then we find another way," Ethan says confidently. He steps closer, and I have to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. "You're strong, Ava. Your pack is strong. But even the strongest wolves can accept a helping paw."

"Is that what you're offering? A paw?" I tease, attempting to deflect the intensity of the moment.

"Amongst other things," he replies, his tone dropping lower, sending a thrill racing through me. A rogue's offer is dangerous, tempting—like playing with fire. And I can't deny the flame between us, crackling with every shared glance, every loaded word.

"Other things," I echo, feeling the magnetic pull. Our eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, the world stills, the silent village around us fading to nothing but the space where two lone wolves stand, understanding dawning between them.

"Let's keep moving," I suggest, breaking the spell as I step away, needing the distance to regain control. "There's more to see."

"Lead the way, Gamma warrior," Ethan says, the title spoken with a reverence that makes my cheeks flush, tempered with a smirk that promises this dance between us is far from over.

We continue on, steps synchronized, the tension a living thing that wraps around us, binding yet unspoken. As I show him the lifeblood of our pack, I can’t shake the feeling that Ethan might just become part of it, whether I’m ready for that or not.

The dull thud of footsteps grows louder, breaking the tension that hangs between Ethan and me. I turn, instinctively dropping into a defensive stance as my wolf senses flare to life. The scent hits me seconds before I see him—pine needles and earth, a smell that speaks of home and long-lost memories.

"Kyle," I breathe, my voice betraying my shock.

"Hey, Ava," he says casually, as if his sudden appearance is nothing out of the ordinary, as if he hasn't been missing for five long years.

"Where have you been?" My words are a mix of anger and relief, forming a knot in my throat. It's impossible to ignore the way my heart leaps at the sight of him. Brown hair, tousled from travel, falls across his forehead, those familiar brown eyes holding stories untold.

"Everywhere and nowhere," Kyle replies with a shrug that doesn't reach his eyes. There's an edge to him now, a hardness that wasn't there before.

"Nice to meet you," Ethan cuts in smoothly, extending a hand to Kyle, who regards it with a raised eyebrow before clasping it firmly. "Ethan."

"Kyle. The pack's Beta, or so I've been told." He releases Ethan's hand and looks back to me, searching my face for something I can’t quite decipher. "I came back to help. Heard about the winter troubles."

"Help is good," Ethan says, but there's a new caution in his voice, a subtle shift in his posture that tells me he's assessing the newcomer as a potential threat. "We could use all the paws we can get."

"Good," Kyle echoes, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer before he steps back, allowing space for whatever might unfold next. "Well, I should report to the Alpha. Ava, we'll catch up later?"

"Sure," I manage, my heart thundering against my ribs. His presence tugs at something deep within me, stirring up old feelings I thought I had buried.

"Later," he repeats, a promise or a warning, I can't tell which. With a nod to Ethan, Kyle turns and strides away, leaving an electric silence in his wake.

"Old flame?" Ethan inquires, his voice low and teasing yet laced with an undercurrent of... jealousy?

"Childhood sweetheart," I correct, the words tasting bittersweet on my lips. "But that was a lifetime ago."

"Looks to me like lifetimes have a funny way of circling back around," he observes, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Maybe," I concede, feeling the pull of my past colliding with the possibility of my future. "But some circles are meant to be broken."

"Then let's break them," Ethan suggests, stepping closer, his gaze intense, his proximity sending a jolt through me.

"Easy for you to say," I retort, though the fire in his eyes makes it hard to argue, makes it hard to remember why I should even want to.

"Nothing easy about it," he counters, his voice barely above a whisper. "But worth it? Absolutely."

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Rogue?" I ask, half daring, half hoping he takes it as one.

"Consider it an invitation, Miss Gamma Warrior," he replies, the smirk returning to his lips, the dance of tension resuming its rhythm between us.

And just like that, Kyle's return, with all its complicated history, feels less like a disruption and more like a catalyst, pushing me toward something—or someone—I'm only just beginning to understand.