POOR BOY

Amy knocked softly before slipping inside, closing the door gently behind her.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, so full of joy it felt ready to burst. The feeling was so bright, so overwhelming, it left her dizzy.

Every step she took was light, betraying an eagerness she couldn't hide, and a smile she couldn't contain lit up her face. She practically glowed, as if an inner light were chasing away every shadow around her.

The room held the most influential members of the Goldblade Pack. At the center of it all, Alpha Oswald dominated the space with his presence alone.

He didn't have to raise his voice to command respect; a single glance was enough to remind everyone of his authority.

At his side, Luna Beatrice carried herself with a quiet, understated elegance. Her gentle demeanor was only on the surface; beneath her measured gestures and gracious smiles lay an unshakable strength.

Amy's gaze drifted to her parents.

Her father, Beta Richard, stood tall and steady, as proud and solid as stone.

Her mother, Lucille, radiated a comforting warmth that seemed to fill the room.

A little farther away, her sister Kathy took in the scene, her eyes bright with a restless, eager curiosity.

Then she saw him.

Peter.

Her fated mate.

The one whose single glance had upended her entire life. The one who would soon carry the weight of command as the pack's Alpha.

At the memory, her breath caught.

Just last night, at the celebration for his return, their bond had snapped into place.

After two years at the Alpha Academy, where he had honed his strength and learned to lead, Peter had come back transformed—more imposing, more assured.

And yet, when their eyes had met across the crowded room, the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.

She remembered the moment with a clarity that was almost painful.

The world had faded, swallowed by a sacred hush. There had been only the two of them, drawn together by an ancient, undeniable pull. A scorching heat had raced through her veins, and an absolute certainty had settled in her soul: she was his, and he was hers.

This feeling had no name. It went beyond simple joy, beyond even love. It was the sensation of finally finding the missing piece of a puzzle she never knew she was solving.

Her wolf had exulted inside her, clawing at the inside of her chest as if to drive her toward him.

She'd wanted to touch him, mark him, lose herself in his scent.

And when Peter had held her gaze, she had known he felt the same burning wave.

The future Alpha was her mate.

Now, standing in the same room, surrounded by her family and the pack leaders, Amy could still feel the bond humming between them. It pulsed like an invisible, unbreakable thread. This wasn't merely happiness. This was destiny.

It was love at first sight, an instinctive possessiveness, a fierce need to protect—all exploding into pure joy. Her wolf howled inside her, not in pain but in triumph. She had found the one she was meant for.

Peter started toward her, and with every step he took, her heartbeat quickened. His scent was already wrapping around her, intense and heady, stirring a desire she had never known.

Her wolf quivered, restless.

On pure instinct, Amy launched herself into his arms. Her lips found his with an urgency she didn't bother to hide. A jolt shot through her body, leaving her trembling.

"My mate..." she murmured, her voice unsteady. "Mine."

Peter's eyes darkened, his gaze intensifying.

"My mate," he answered, his tone deep. "We need to talk... somewhere private."

She needed no explanation. She would have followed him anywhere.

Since childhood, she had imagined this moment, promising herself that she would give everything she was to the mate destiny chose for her. The fact that he was the Alpha heir only strengthened her resolve: she would become the Luna he needed.

When they reached Peter's room, the air felt thick, charged with electricity. Before he could speak, Amy captured his lips again, bolder this time.

She felt no shame. He was hers.

Their kisses deepened, slow and searching at first, then hungry. Their hands moved on pure instinct, faster than thought. He pulled her flush against him, his lips gliding down her neck, leaving a trail of fire along her skin.

She gasped, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

She had always heard that male wolves—especially future Alphas—were fiercely possessive. They claimed their mates without reservation.

Amy wanted him to know, without a doubt, that he was the only one she'd been with.

His caresses grew more confident, more purposeful. He guided her toward the bed, lowering her onto the mattress with a gentle determination. Their mouths met again, deeper and more demanding. He peeled her dress away, letting it fall in a heap on the floor.

Peter's lips explored her skin, sliding lower, tracing a burning path across her chest. His hands roamed, stirring sensations she had never known.

She was discovering her own body through his touch. Her fingers traced the hard muscle of his chest, savoring the power humming just beneath his skin.

When he touched her intimately, a wave of pure heat swept over her. She had never been touched like this, yet it felt natural, inevitable. As if her body had always been waiting for him.

"Were you waiting for me?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She held his gaze, the storm inside her raging.

"Yes." Her voice was a whisper. "Only for you. I'm yours."

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

"You are mine."

"Always."

The word snapped the last thread of his restraint. He kissed her with a raw fierceness, as if sealing her promise. His lips moved lower, lingering over every inch of skin and waking an insatiable fire within her.

When he finally tasted her, she arched off the bed, overwhelmed.

His fingers guided her with deliberate skill, driving her toward a rising, unbearable peak.

"Let go," he breathed against her skin. "Give me everything."

She did.

Pleasure crashed through her with a force she could never have imagined, her cry breaking on his name.

He barely gave her time to recover. In one fluid motion, he was over her, joining their bodies.

The sudden fullness made her gasp, but a profound sense of rightness followed almost instantly. An empty place deep inside her had finally been filled.

"Forgive me," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "I can't wait any longer."

"I'm yours," she answered, her voice trembling but sure. "There's only us."

Their eyes stayed locked. She met his gaze with absolute trust—a surrender born not of weakness, but of the undeniable strength of their bond.

That bond pulsed between them, binding her heart with chains forged by fate. She could feel the feral hunger he'd held back finally wake, a perfect mirror to her own. He had dreamed of this moment. Feeling her so open and willing woke a nearly feral hunger in him.

Their bodies found a shared, instinctive rhythm. Every movement deepened their connection, making it more real. He gave himself to her without reserve, and she met him with the same desperate intensity.

The sounds that filled the room were more than mere lust. It was the raw language of two souls finally reunited. Her soft cries, his low growls, and the frantic beat of their hearts wove a single, primal melody.

Amy clung to him, caught between overwhelming emotion and shattering pleasure. Every thrust sent sparks racing through her veins. She felt as though she might break apart from the inside, from the sheer rightness of it all.

"Peter..." she breathed, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "You are everything to me. My mate. My Alpha."

Her words seemed to undo him. He captured her lips again, holding her tight, as if terrified she might be torn from him. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her bones, that he would never let anyone separate them.

They surrendered completely to the heat of their union, sealing with their bodies what destiny had already decided.

But in a quiet corner of the future, a shadow was already gathering.

And when someone deeply connected to Amy came between them, she would be forced to understand that this perfect night, however intense, carried the seeds of a devastating mistake.