A Wolf's True Mate

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The evening air hums with excitement, alive with the scents of sizzling meats and sweet pastries as I weave through the throngs of shifters. Every year, the Golden Paw festival transforms our ancient cobblestone streets into a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, a celebration of our pack's unity and strength. Lanterns swing gently above, casting a warm glow on laughing faces and elaborate costumes that pay homage to the creatures we can become.

I pause at the edge of the square, my fingers absently tracing the delicate embroidery of my dress—a deep blue that mirrors the twilight sky. My gaze drifts across the crowd, searching, until it finds him. Ford stands at the center of it all, a pillar among shifting bodies, his laughter booming over the murmur of conversations. Someone hands him a stein, and he raises it in a toast, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. He looks every bit the Alpha he was born to be.

From this distance, Ford seems untouchable, surrounded by admirers who vie for his attention—warriors boasting of their strength, elders offering sage advice, young pups looking up at him with stars in their eyes. A pang of something wistful tugs at my heart. There was a time when I would have been at his side, sharing stories and jokes, basking in the warmth of his playful spirit. But times have changed since he took up his father's mantle.

My mind whispers memories of secret smiles and shared secrets, of a time when the gap between us wasn't so wide. But I push those thoughts away; I'm an Omega, and telepathic to boot—a secret that keeps me at arm's length, not just from Ford, but from everyone else too. If they knew about the voices that sometimes slip into my mind unbidden, would they accept me or shun me? I shake the thought off and focus on Ford again.

He towers over most, his muscular frame wrapped in a ceremonial vest that accentuates his broad shoulders and the strength in his arms. Brown hair falls in soft waves just shy of his collar, giving him an almost boyish charm that contradicts the responsibility etched into the lines of his jaw. He catches someone mid-story, his head thrown back in genuine amusement, and for a moment, our worlds collide—I feel the echoes of his laughter in my own chest.

"Skye!" A voice calls my name, pulling me back to the present, and I turn to see one of my packmates waving me over. "Come join us!"

I cast one last glance at Ford, watching as another shifter claps him on the back, drawing him further into the heart of the celebration. Sighing softly, I turn away and move towards familiarity, leaving the Alpha to his admirers as the night unfolds around us.

The festival swirls around me, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that pulse with the life of the Golden Paw Pack. I weave through clusters of my kin, laughter spilling like warm honey into the crisp evening air, lanterns painting everyone in hues of gold and amber.

"Care to dance?" a familiar voice teases, pulling me from my reverie. Luca stands before me, golden hair gleaming under the soft glow of the paper lanterns strung above us. His blue eyes spark with an earnest light, and there's a hesitance in his stance that belies his casual tone.

"Sure," I reply, offering him a shy smile that feels out of place on my face. It's been ages since I've allowed myself to be swept up in such carefree moments.

Luca extends his hand, calloused and strong, and I place mine within it, allowing the warmth of his touch to anchor me. As he leads me to the makeshift dance floor, a part of me is keenly aware of the shifters around us—how their movements are graceful and predatory all at once, a reflection of our dual natures.

We join in the dance, Luca's hands guiding me with surprising gentleness. He moves with a rhythm that speaks of many nights spent under the moon's watchful eye, reveling in our pack's traditions. For a moment, I let the music consume me, the melody wrapping around my senses like a comforting embrace.

Then, amidst the whirlwind of twirling bodies and the stomp of feet, I catch a glimpse of Ford. He stands at the edge of the dance floor, green eyes fixed on us—or rather, on me. There's something unreadable in his gaze, a storm brewing behind those forest depths that sends an unfamiliar shiver down my spine.

"Luca," I say, almost breathless, "do you think he's watching us?"

"Who? Ford?" Luca glances over his shoulder nonchalantly, then turns back to me with a knowing grin. "Can't say I blame him. You're quite the sight, Skye."

"Is that so?" Even as I try to laugh it off, a knot tightens in my stomach. Am I the sight, or is it the thought of an Omega like me daring to dance with someone who isn't our Alpha?

"Absolutely." Luca spins me, and for a second, the world tilts on its axis. "You shine, Skye. Don't ever doubt that."

But even as Luca's words wrap around me, I can't shake the intensity of Ford's stare. The rest of the celebration fades into the background, leaving only the weight of his gaze—an anchor and a question mark all at once.