It was Saturday—the long-awaited day... and everything already felt wrong.

Soft music filled the chamber as Emma opened her eyes, only to wish she hadn’t. She pulled the duvet higher, letting the sound wrap around her like a lullaby instead of a wake-up call.

"Moonrise, Alpha’s mate," Mrs. Thompson said softly. She had overslept again... and the thought unsettled her more than it should have.

She turned slightly, sinking deeper into the bed.

Lately, getting up felt like a battle she kept losing, and it frustrated her more than she wanted to admit.

Mrs. Thompson walked to the other side of the bed and pointed at the wall clock.

She looked up—and in an instant, the sleep vanished from her eyes. Panic surged through her veins. She tossed the duvet aside and sprang out of bed, her heart racing. She didn’t want to be late again. Not today. Not when everything already felt slightly out of control.

She tossed the duvet aside and sprang out of bed, her heart racing.

"Oh, my Moon Goddess!"

Not again. How had she overslept again?

What if someone notices... what if this isn’t normal?

"Take it easy, Alpha’s mate. The meeting is scheduled at high-moon—you still have time," Mrs. Thompson said.

Emma ignored her, already hurrying toward the bathchamber.

She halted when she got to the bathchamber door and looked at her. She understood the gesture and nodded.

"Naomi disinfected it about an hour ago." At least that’s taken care of... one less thing to worry about right now.

"Alright," she said and entered the bathchamber.

No time to think—just move.

She wasn’t the type to use showers, but today she had no choice. There was no time to prepare her usual elaborate bath. Thankfully, the chill wasn’t harsh—the moon’s gentle rays had already softened the air.

She stepped out of the bathchamber and reached for the intercom, trying to connect with her mate. Silence answered her. It was unlike him not to respond—more unlike him not to be there at all.

"Where is my mate?" she asked Mrs. Thompson, her voice tighter than she intended.

He never missed her calls like this... unless something was wrong.

"He should be in his bedchamber. He’s always there at this time... why would today be different?"

"He is not there," she said, walking past her. That’s not like him at all... something feels off, and she doesn’t like it.

Mrs. Thompson hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to speak.

"Alpha’s mate..." she said carefully. "The guards mentioned something unusual."

Emma paused mid-step.

"What is it?" she asked, already sensing the shift in tone.

"The Alpha left the packhouse before dawn."

Emma stilled.

For a heartbeat, nothing moved—then her fingers curled at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as the words sank in.

A flicker of unease crossed her face, quick but unmistakable, before she forced her expression back into place.

"He... left?" she repeated, quieter this time, as if saying it aloud might make it make sense.

Her gaze drifted toward the door of his chamber, her thoughts already outrunning her reason.

Without telling her?

Her chest tightened...a sharp, unwelcome pull...but she straightened almost immediately, composure slipping back over her like armor.

"Did he say where he was going?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"No," Mrs. Thompson replied softly. "He left without giving any details."

Mrs. Thompson hesitated for a few seconds, her lips parting slightly as if she might add more...but she said nothing.

Then, with a quiet breath, she turned and followed Emma toward the closet, her steps quickened by the tension she could already sense building in the chamber.

Naomi and Paige had already prepared everything she would wear.

Naomi took down one of her off-shoulder asymmetrical floor-length gowns and helped her with it. She sat down on the sofa bed and Mrs. Thompson began to brush her hair. She kept dialing Brandon’s number but he was not picking up.

You look good," Brooklyn, who had just walked into the closet said, and she grinned, though a small part of her was already thinking there was no time to linger on compliments.

"You ought to be ready before now," she added, her tone firm, Brooklyn’s expression tightened slightly, as if she understood how costly delays could be.

"I woke up late. Brandon did not even try to wake me up," she sighed a little, frustration mixing with a faint sting of disappointment she didn’t fully want to admit.

"Where is he?" Brooklyn asked, already uneasy, wondering if this silence around him meant something more than simple absence.

"I don’t know," she replied, and the uncertainty settled in her chest heavier than she expected.

"Call him," Brooklyn urged, a subtle worry creeping in as she imagined all the possible reasons for his silence.

"He is not picking up my calls," she said, trying to sound calm, though each failed attempt felt like another unanswered question in her mind.

"Are you sure he wants you there?" Brooklyn asked carefully, half-afraid of the answer that might confirm her hidden fear.

"Of course, he wants me there," she answered quickly, almost too quickly, as if speaking faster could silence the doubt trying to form in her heart.

Paige called her attention to the intercom that was in her bedchamber. She stood up with a spark of happiness she couldn’t fully hide, already hoping it might be her mate, and walked towards her bedchamber, while Brooklyn followed behind her, silently wondering what would pull her mood so quickly.

"Who’s there?" she asked, her tone steady, though a small part of her mind was already bracing for news that might disrupt her urgency.

"Alpha’s mate, your food is getting cold," Bernard said, and she sighed,dropping the remote with more force than necessary, though deep down it wasn’t anger...just disappointment in how easily everything seemed to interrupt her plans.

"I don’t have time for food now. Please, take it to the cookhouse," she replied quickly, her thoughts already racing ahead to the meeting she couldn’t afford to miss, even as her stomach quietly reminded her she hadn’t eaten.

"Alpha’s mate, you know the Alpha won’t be pleased with me," Bernard insisted, his voice carrying concern, while she felt the pressure of responsibility tightening around her decision.

"Has he eaten?" she asked instead, pausing for a moment, because despite her rush, part of her still cared enough to check.

"Yes," Bernard replied, and she nodded slightly, relieved on one hand but still unsettled, as if the answer only solved half of the worry sitting in her chest.

She glanced at the clock. One hour, forty-six minutes.

She needed to leave the house at eleven to be there before the time. She shook her head again.

The clock ticked loudly in the silence that followed.

Eleven was no longer just a schedule... it was closing in on her like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.

"Bernard, the food can wait," she said firmly, though a faint part of her still felt the pull of hunger she was choosing to ignore for now.

"Alpha’s..." Bernard began, hesitant, as if trying to remind her of something important without overstepping.

"I’ll eat when I come back," she cut in, already convincing herself she could push her needs aside just a little longer.

"Alright," he said and disconnected the intercom, though a quiet worry lingered in him about whether she truly would.

"Where is Ken?" she asked, her thoughts briefly drifting to her sibling as she wondered if she had time to see him before everything else.

"He is in the lounge, probably," Brooklyn shrugged, unsure herself, while silently sensing how distracted she already was.

She walked back to the closet and Mrs. Thompson continued styling her hair, though she herself was already mentally ahead of where she was standing.

"Brooklyn, I hope you are enjoying your stay with my pack-kins?" she asked lightly, trying to sound welcoming despite her rushing mind.

"Yeah, but I want to go and see my parents. My mother doesn’t want me to come," she smiled, though a small conflict of longing and guilt flickered in her expression.

"Why?" she asked, curious, while briefly thinking how complicated pack ties could be even across packs.

"She thinks I have taken care of them enough and some wolf needs to take care of me," Brooklyn replied, her smile soft but slightly conflicted.

"I have a surprise for them," she grinned, a spark of excitement breaking through her earlier focus.

"What is it?" Brooklyn asked curiously, unable to hide her interest despite trying to stay composed.

"A surprise for them and not for you!" she teased, holding back the details as a playful boundary between them.

"Alright," she said and sat close to her, though curiosity still lingered in her thoughts.

"Emma, I’m worried," Brooklyn admitted, her voice lowering slightly as concern settled in.

"Worried about what?" she asked, pausing her thoughts on preparations to focus on her moonally.

"Ken is seriously talking about mating, but I’m skeptical. Isn’t he moving too fast?" Brooklyn said, uncertainty clouding her excitement.

"Is there something about him you don’t like?" she asked quietly.

"No... nothing," Brooklyn admitted.

"Why are you worried then?" she pressed gently, trying to untangle emotions from logic.

"My parents! Who is going to take care of them when I have gone?" Brooklyn said, and beneath her words was a fear of leaving responsibility behind while stepping into a new life.

"I will! I’m going to move them closer and keep my eyes on them." Brooklyn looked at her and smiled. She pulled her ear closer and whispered into it.

"Have you guys kissed?" Brooklyn smiled again and nodded.

"Last moonfall."

"You like it?"

"It was amazing," she said, and they giggled.

She stood up when she was ready to go. She picked up her laptop bag and walked out of the chamber. She checked Brandon’s chamber one last time.

Empty.

But this time, the silence didn’t feel normal.

It felt intentional.