Page 16 of Once You Go Pack
She looked back at them—her father with his perfectly pressed suits and constant disappointment, Riley with her confident success and unconscious superiority. They’d shaped her entire adult life and kept her safely contained in their expectations.
But Gerri and Cade saw something in me. Something my own family never bothered to look for.
“Maybe I’m done being practical,” she said. “Maybe it’s time to find out who I really am when I’m not trying to be what everyone else needs.”
With that, she walked away, leaving them standing under the law firm’s glowing sign, probably wondering what alien had taken over their reliable, predictable Mila.
If only they knew how close to the truth that was.
Mila soon slumped into her car’s driver seat, her hands trembling as she gripped the steering wheel. The tears came suddenly, hot and overwhelming—not from sadness, but from the sheer relief of finally speaking her truth. Eight years ofswallowing her needs, of dimming herself to keep everyone else comfortable, and she’d just torn through that facade in five minutes flat.
I actually did it. I finally stood up to them.
The engine hummed to life, and she pulled out of the parking garage, her reflection catching in the rearview mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were filled with tears—but she looked more alive than she had in years.
As the law firm’s building disappeared behind her, something shifted inside her. The weight she’d carried for so long began to lift, replaced by something electric and empowering. She’d advocated for herself. She’d chosen adventure over safety, possibility over predictability.
Going to an alien planet to be a wolf shifter’s mate might be absurd, but it’s my choice.
The suburban streets blurred past as she drove home, streetlights casting golden pools on the asphalt. For the first time in forever, she wasn’t rushing to complete someone else’s agenda or worrying about disappointing expectations. She was driving toward her own future, whatever that might hold.
Her small ranch house sat nestled between two identical properties, the kind of safe, practical choice she’d always made. But tonight, even her boring suburban life felt different—like a cocoon she was finally ready to shed.
Inside, Mila moved through her bedroom with purpose, pulling out her old suitcase. She packed lightly but thoughtfully: comfortable clothes, a few books, her mother’s silver necklace—the one keepsake that had survived her father’s practical purge of “sentimental clutter.”
What does one pack for visiting an alien planet?
The absurdity of it made her laugh out loud, the sound echoing in her quiet house. But beneath the humor thrummedsomething deeper—anticipation that made her skin tingle and her heart race.
Every few minutes, her thoughts circled back to Cade. The way his green eyes had seemed to see straight through her. How his voice had gone rough when he’d said her name, like it meant something significant to him. The electric shock when their hands touched that still seemed to pulse through her veins.
There’s something between us. Something I’ve never felt before.
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. Mila glanced at the clock—nearly ten PM. Who could possibly?—
“Coming!” she called, hurrying to the front door.
Gerri stood on her porch, looking impossibly energetic for the late hour, her white bob perfectly styled and her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Ready for your adventure, dear?” Gerri’s voice held that familiar note of knowing amusement. “Time’s a-wasting, and certain wolf princes are notoriously impatient.”
Mila’s pulse quickened. “Now? But I thought—I mean, don’t I need more time to prepare?”
“Honey, if you wait for the perfect moment, you’ll be waiting forever.” Gerri stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over Mila’s packed suitcase with approval. “Besides, the moon’s perfect tonight. Trust me on that.”
Ten minutes later, Mila found herself in Gerri’s sleek car, speeding through empty streets toward the industrial district. The moon hung impossibly large and luminous overhead, casting everything in silver light that seemed to pulse faintly with energy.
Mom always said the moon has a way of guiding us.
The memory surfaced unexpectedly—her mother standing at their kitchen window, watching the moon rise with wonder inher eyes. “The moon calls to women like us, Mila. One day you’ll understand why.”
She’d been six years old then, too young to comprehend the wistfulness in her mother’s voice. But now, watching the lunar glow through the windshield, she felt that same magnetic pull her mother had described. As if the moon were a beacon, drawing her toward something she’d been searching for her entire life.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Gerri’s voice was gentler now, less teasing. “The call.”
“I don’t understand it,” Mila admitted. “But yes. It’s like... like I’m being pulled somewhere I’m supposed to be.”
“Your mother felt it too, didn’t she? That restlessness, that sense of not quite belonging in the ordinary world.”
