In Alpha Damien's room, the three of them sat at their respective spots.
Damien sat behind his large oak desk, staring blankly at the stack of papers that required his signature, his hand clenching and unclenching the pen without writing a single word. His jaw was tight, grinding against itself, and his eyes were glancing at the wall clock every few seconds. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Xavier sat near the window, a tablet in his hands, scrolling through patrol reports. His fingers hovered over the screen longer than necessary. He would occasionally tap his foot.
Magnus, sprawled on the couch, had one arm resting behind his head while he tried to read a book about strategy and warfare. But every few pages, he'd yawn, glance toward Damien, then the clock, and finally back to his book.
"Fifty-five minutes," Damien muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. He wasn't sure if he could last another minute without knowing what Andra was up to.
Xavier sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "This is ridiculous. She's out there, alone, and we're sitting here like fools, pretending to be busy."
Magnus chuckled, though it lacked any humor. "I've read this damn chapter three times, and I still have no idea what it's about. Can we agree this isn't working?"
The silence returned as they all shifted uncomfortably. Xavier's fingers tapped the edge of the tablet incessantly. Damien ran a hand through his hair.
"Maybe we should check on her, just in case," Xavier suggested.
"No," Damien growled. "We gave her an hour. We have to give her that space."
"Space," Xavier scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stretched his legs out on the couch. "She's not asking for space. She's asking for trouble. I bet she's already—"
"Don't say it," Damien cut in.
They tried to switch the topic, turning their attention to pack matters. Xavier mentioned a new rogue sighting near the northern border, and Damien nodded. Magnus spoke of a recent trade agreement with another pack, the logistics of food and supply exchanges, but none of it stuck.
"Do you think she's just sitting in her room, resting?" Xavier asked, more to himself than anyone else.
Magnus rolled his shoulders. "If she is, I'd be surprised. She's always thinking. It's never just rest with her."
Damien let out a frustrated breath. "She's still human, which makes it even worse. She doesn't know what she's capable of, or the danger she could be in."
A tense silence followed. Damien's fingers drummed the surface of his desk. Xavier kept frowning at the window. Magnus's leg had started bouncing.
Then, a knock on the door.
Instantly, all three of them scrambled to their feet.
Damien reached the door first, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he swung it open.
Outside stood one of their patrolmen, covered in dust, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping down his face.
"Alpha!" the man gasped. "One of the cars... it's missing."
Damien's face darkened. "Missing?"
The patrolman nodded quickly, wiping his forehead. "It was parked near the garage. The Luna, she took it. We tried to stop her, but she nearly ran me over. We think she's gone."
The words hit them like a bomb. Without hesitation, Damien stormed past the man. Xavier and Magnus were right behind him.
"She escaped?" Xavier growled.
Magnus clenched his fists, trying to keep his composure. "How far could she have gotten?"
Damien didn't answer. He could feel the pull of the bond, and as they reached the pack house entrance, his wolf stirred, growling inside him, eager to find Andra.
***
Andra gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as the car sped down the winding forest road.
She knew exactly what she had done. She had timed everything perfectly. The patrols were changing shifts, and the trio was distracted by their obsessive need to watch over her every move. It was the only window she had, and she took it.
"I have to get out," she thought as the trees blurred past. The engine roared beneath her, and she pressed harder on the accelerator, pushing the car faster and faster. She couldn't stay there.
But something wasn't right. Her vision began to blur.
"What the hell…" she muttered, blinking rapidly and shaking her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind.
Soon, the car began to swerve as her hands struggled to maintain control of the wheel. Her body was growing hot, and her breath came in shallow gasps. She could feel her skin tingling painfully as if it were too tight for her bones.
"No, no, no… not now," she whispered to herself.
She fought to stay in control, fought to keep the car steady. But her limbs weakened as if they weren't hers anymore.
The car swayed violently, veering off the road. Andra slammed her foot onto the brake, the vehicle screeching to a stop as it skidded into the dirt. Her heart hammered in her chest as she fumbled with the door, kicking it open and stumbling out of the car.
The world around her felt so wrong. Too sharp, too loud, too vivid. She staggered onto the empty road. She clutched her stomach as her insides twisted painfully.
Andra groaned. "Ah!" she cried out. The world spun violently around her, and she collapsed to her knees, feeling as if her body was tearing itself apart from the inside.
The rustling of the leaves. It all became deafening. It felt like her skull was splitting open as every sound drilled into her brain.
She gagged. "Oh God," she gasped, bending forward. She vomited into the grass.
Sweat poured down her face as her limbs began to shake uncontrollably.
"What… what's happening to me?" she whispered.
Her body felt like it was on fire, the heat coursing through her veins. Her legs buckled beneath her. And she collapsed onto the ground, shaking uncontrollably.
The distant howls reached her ears. Werewolves.
"I can't stop it," she whispered.
The transformation was coming.