Page 15 of Night with a Gamma
We finish our workout, each punch and kick a welcome distraction from the reality of our situation. When we’re done, I head to the packhouse, showering off the sweat and grime of training. The hot water washes over me, but it can’t quite cleanse the anxiety that lingers in my mind. I take a moment to center myself, steeling my resolve for the meeting ahead.
Once dressed, I make my way to Wyatt's office, the familiar scent of cedar and leather welcoming me as I knock lightly on the door. “Come in,” Wyatt's voice calls out, filled with a mix of authority and exhaustion.
I step inside, finding him bent over the oversized coffee table, setting up the map of our territory. It’s a meticulous arrangement, and I can tell he’s already deep in thought. Dalton enters shortly after, his expression serious.
As the three of us gather, I feel the tug of my inner wolf, a restless creature that senses the tension in the air.
“We should link with Little Bird,”my wolf suggests, referring to Wren, the witch who has captivated both our hearts. I can’tdeny how much I miss her presence, her laughter, and the warmth she brings to our lives.
“After the meeting,”I reply, feeling a pang of longing.“We’ll go find her. I promise.”My wolf huffs in response, but I brush it aside, focusing on the task at hand.
Just as we settle, the office phone rings, piercing through the quiet. Wyatt’s hand darts out to grab the receiver, and I can feel the tension mount as the meeting with Rex begins.
“Hello, Alpha Rex,” Wyatt says, his tone professional yet strained. The connection crackles slightly, and I can hear Rex's gruff voice on the other end, greeting us with a curt acknowledgment.
Wyatt dives into the topic of the rogue sightings, outlining the concerns we’ve been facing. Rex listens, his silence heavy. After a moment, he responds, “We caught one of the rogues and brought it to my prison cell. Unfortunately, it had a pill stashed away and took its own life before we could interrogate it.”
Dalton shakes his head, disappointment flickering across his face. I can sense Wyatt’s rising frustration; he’s made it clear before that he suspects there’s more to this rogue issue than meets the eye.
“Someone is behind this,” Wyatt asserts, his voice rising slightly. “I can feel it. It’s not just random rogues appearing. This has been building for years, and I need you to tell me if you suspect anyone.”
Rex’s response is evasive, his tone dismissive. “We’re all dealing with rogues. I can’t investigate every whisper of suspicion.”
The call drags on for what feels like an eternity, the tension thickening with every exchange. Finally, after thirty minutes of back-and-forth frustration, Wyatt slams his finger down on the end button, the sound echoing through the office.
Dalton breaks the silence first, “I feel like Rex was holding back something. He knows more than he’s letting on.”
I nod in agreement, the sense of unease growing stronger. “He’s not the only one. There’s a bigger game at play here, and we need to figure it out before it costs us even more.”
Wyatt exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll call some of the other packs. See if they’re experiencing anything similar. We need to gather information.”
As we discuss our next steps, my thoughts drift back to Wren. She’s a light in the darkness of my life, and I can’t help but yearn for her presence amidst the chaos.
“Let’s wrap this up,” I suggest, eager to find her. “We’ll regroup later and figure out our strategy.”
With a plan taking shape, I feel a flicker of hope. Together, we’ll uncover the truth and protect our pack. But for now, I need to find Wren, to feel her warmth and hear her voice — our sanctuary amid the storm.
9
MY LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS
Harrison
I stepout of Wyatt’s office, the weight of the meeting still pressing down on me. The air feels charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. I glance back at Wyatt and Dalton, who are deep in conversation about the rogue situation, their voices a low murmur that fades as I walk down the corridor of the packhouse.
Each step feels like a journey away from the chaos that has been our lives lately. My heart quickens at the thought of Wren. The last time we were together, she had shared tales of her magic — her bond with nature, her ability to heal — and I had felt a connection with her that was deeper than anything I had experienced before. She is a flicker of light in this darkening world, and I crave that warmth.
As I exit the packhouse, the crisp air greets me, and I take a moment to breathe in the scents of our land: the rich earth, the pine trees, and the distant hint of the river that runs through our territory. My wolf stirs within me, eager to roam free, to feel thewind in its fur, but I have a more pressing goal in mind. I need to find my mate, my Little Bird.
I head toward the eastern edge of the pack’s territory, where the forest thickens and the sounds of nature envelop me. I close my eyes for a moment, reaching out with my senses. I can feel the life around me — the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the distant sound of water flowing. But more importantly, I focus on Wren’s presence, allowing my instincts to guide me.
As I move deeper into the woods, my thoughts drift to her. Wren is unlike anyone I have ever met. Her light hair frames her face in wild waves, and her blue eyes seem to hold the wisdom of the ages. She is fierce yet gentle, powerful yet kind.
But it’s not just her magic that draws me to her — it’s the way she understands me, the way she sees through the layers of my armor to the man beneath. She’s the only one who has ever made me feel truly seen. I guess that’s the mate bond weaving inside my very soul.
I continue my search, moving quietly through the underbrush, careful not to disturb the peace of the forest. After a while, I hear the faintest sound of laughter, carried on the breeze. It’s light and melodic, a sound that wraps around my heart and pulls me forward. I quicken my pace, following the sound until I reach a clearing bathed in dappled sunlight.
There she is.
