The Party
1744 Words
Maya POV
They arrived back at the packhouse of the Shadow Rock pack, but the fun and playful atmosphere from that morning was completely gone.
“We helped decorate the ballroom for the guests,” Alexandra explained excitedly as they walked in, her eyes shining with pride.
“Thank you,” Maya said, managing a polite smile. But her heart wasn’t in it. The excitement she’d felt earlier about the party had simmered out, replaced by a gnawing feeling of dread. What was she going to do?
“Maya, do you need help with your hair for the—” her mother asked softly, her tone hesitant.
“No!” Maya snapped, the word coming out harsher than she intended. Her mother flinched slightly, and guilt flared for just a moment before the anger swallowed it whole.
Her father’s voice cut in, sharp and warning. “Maya.”
But she didn’t care. She was furious. Furious at her mother and her endless talk of the mate bond. Furious at Gabriel for existing, for turning her world upside down. Furious at herself for feeling even a flicker of anything but hatred when he’d called her his mate.
She stomped up to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. The silence pressed against her like a heavy weight. For a moment, she stood still, her breathing uneven, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
The anger clawed at her, hot and unrelenting. She grabbed one of the pillows from her bed and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud, but it wasn’t enough. Her chest heaved as she scanned the room, her gaze landing on the pair of running shoes by the closet.
She needed to move. To hit something. Anything to burn off the frustration threatening to consume her.
Minutes later, she was in the gym, wrapping her hands with tape. The punching bag swayed gently in front of her, an innocent target for the storm raging inside her.
The first punch landed with a satisfying thud, sending the bag swinging. She followed it with another, then another, her rhythm growing faster, more relentless. The room echoed with the sound of her fists connecting with the leather, each strike a release of the anger twisting inside her.
Her mind raced as she punched. Why him? Why now? Why couldn’t it be Adrian?
Sweat dripped down her temple as she delivered a powerful uppercut, the bag swinging wildly.
She didn’t stop until her arms ached and her breathing came in sharp gasps. Finally, she rested her forehead against the bag, her fingers gripping the sides tightly. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it had dulled, replaced by a hollow ache she couldn’t quite shake.
She straightened, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. If the Moon Goddess thought she could trap her in this bond, she had another thing coming. Maya wasn’t some weak-willed she-wolf who would roll over and accept her fate. She would find a way out of this.
After spending nearly an hour pummeling the punching bag, Maya felt her anger simmer down to a manageable burn. The gym had given her an outlet, but it hadn’t solved anything.
Heading back to her room, Maya hopped into the shower and slipped into a soft pink dress. It was elegant, with just a hint of sexiness—its slit running to just above her knee. She knew Adrian liked more conservative dresses, saying her body was only for his eyes.
She thought it was sweet.
Adrian. She sighed. He’d be here soon, and he’d find out they weren’t mates. She wasn’t looking forward to the hurt in his eyes.
Maya added a final touch of earrings and kept her makeup light. Her waves cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face softly.
When she headed downstairs, her father was waiting for her near the base of the stairs. Antonio’s smile was warm, but there was a shadow of concern behind it.
“There she is, the birthday girl,” her father said, his grin broadening. “You look wonderful, honey.”
Maya smiled faintly.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You just have to hold on for six months. Then you can reject him... if that’s what you want.”
She blinked up at him, surprised. It wasn’t like her father to be so measured, especially about Gabriel. “Thanks, Dad.”
He swung an arm over her shoulder. “Now, come on, kiddo. Adrian’s here to see you.”
As they approached the sitting room, Maya spotted Adrian standing with his back to her. He was early. The sight of him, so familiar, should’ve brought her comfort. But as her heels clacked against the floor, and he turned, his beaming smile faltered.
Tears stung her eyes.
“I might just… leave you guys to it,” her father said softly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping away.
“We’re not mates,” Adrian said, his voice quiet, yet steady.
“No, we’re not,” Maya whispered, her heart sinking as she wiped the tears threatening to fall.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Adrian murmured, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms. His fingers ran through her hair soothingly, his touch as familiar as ever.
“How is it going to be okay?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“Because,” he said softly, his lips brushing her temple. “We’re choosing each other anyway. That makes it even more special, doesn’t it?”
Maya pulled back just enough to look up at him, her tear-filled eyes searching his face. His expression was open, his smile warm and comforting. For a moment, the weight of everything—Gabriel, the bond, the pressure—lifted slightly.
“It does make it more special,” she said, letting out a shaky laugh through her tears.
“See?” Adrian smiled wider, his hands cupping her face. “You’re mine, Maya. And I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”
The sincerity in his tone made her chest ache.
“The only difficult thing will be rejecting our mates when we find them,” Adrian said, his voice dropping slightly.
Maya stiffened. “You… you’d do that for me?”
His smile softened, but his eyes glinted with something unreadable. “Of course, Maya. It’s the only way forward, right? I mean, I’ve known for a long time that I’d choose you, no matter what.”
Her heart swelled at his words, even as a tiny flicker of unease bloomed in her chest.
“You mean that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Of course,” Adrian said, his thumb brushing her cheek. “But, hey, let’s not think about that now. Tonight’s about celebrating you.”
Before Maya could respond, voices echoed down the hallway as the first of the guests began arriving. Adrian glanced toward the sound, then back at her, his smile as charming as ever.
“Shall we?” he said, offering his arm.
Maya hesitated, but then looped her arm through his, letting him lead her into the party.
The ballroom was bustling with life, the low hum of conversation mingling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Guests were everywhere—family, friends, and pack members—all gathered to celebrate her birthday.
Her friends Anna and Jenna had come, both werewolves from Adrian’s pack. They chatted animatedly by the buffet table, waving when they spotted her. Maya managed a polite smile, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Her aunts and uncles mingled nearby, each offering their congratulations as she passed. All of her cousins were here, even the younger ones.
Then there was Uncle Marcus. The King of werewolves stood at the center of the room, a presence that drew every eye. His tall frame and commanding aura made it impossible to mistake him for anything but royalty. Beside him, Aunt Sarah smiled warmly, one hand resting on her pregnant belly.
“Congratulations, kiddo,” Marcus said, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple as he handed her a small, elegantly wrapped box. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” Maya said, her voice soft. She couldn’t help but smile at him.
Marcus chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Twenty-one. That’s a big one. How does it feel?”
Maya hesitated. “Overwhelming,” she admitted.
“Well, take it from me—it doesn’t get easier, but it does get more exciting,” Marcus said, his smile widening as Sarah swatted his arm playfully.
“Don’t listen to him,” Sarah said, her laughter light. “Enjoy the moment, Maya. You deserve it.”
As Marcus and Sarah moved through the crowd, people bowed and curtsied, parting to let them pass. Maya almost laughed at the absurdity of it—it was like watching royalty among commoners.
Suddenly, she noticed her uncle Marcus waving at someone and smiling, walking over to them. Her eyes landed on Alpha Christian. What was he doing here? And did he bring—
She turned her gaze, scanning the crowd. Mason and Mia approached, their easy smiles lifting some of the weight from her shoulders.
“Happy birthday!” Mia said, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Thanks,” Maya said, squeezing her back.
Mason grinned. “Big twenty-one. You don’t look a day over eighteen.”
“Very funny,” Maya said, rolling her eyes.
The familiar banter eased her tension, but it didn’t last. As Mia launched into a story about her latest prank on Mason, Maya’s gaze wandered.
And there he was.
Gabriel stood near the edge of the room, his piercing blue eyes locked on her. His presence was impossible to ignore—tall, commanding, and exuding an effortless confidence. The weight of his gaze made her chest tighten.
“Earth to Maya,” Mason said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
She blinked, tearing her eyes away. “Sorry, what?”
Mia followed her gaze, her brows lifting slightly when she saw where Maya had been looking. “Interesting,” she said, her tone teasing.
“It’s nothing,” Maya said quickly, her cheeks flushing.
“Sure, it’s nothing,” Mia said, wiggling her eyebrows.
What was he doing here?
- Writer
