The Alpha's Human Mate

The steady drizzle tapped against the windowpane, a stark contrast to the relentless Arizona sun Addison was used to. Boxes, some still taped shut, others half-empty, littered the living room of their new, too-big house in Midnight Creek. Her mother, bless her heart, was humming some off-key tune as she wrestled with a particularly stubborn flap.

"Are you excited?" her mom asked, her voice bright, almost too bright.

Addison plastered on a smile. "Yeah," she lied, the word feeling heavy on her tongue. "I really am."

She desperately wanted to be back home, under that scorching sun, not stuck in this perpetually damp, forest-choked town. But she reminded herself: this was for her mom. This promotion, this new beginning. It had to work. She had to make it work.

Later that night, after a surprisingly good pizza from a local joint, Addison found herself on the small balcony of her new bedroom. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of pine and wet earth. She leaned against the railing, gazing out at the impenetrable wall of trees that swallowed the moonlight.

Then, a long, mournful sound split the silence. A howl.

"Hmm," Addison murmured, pulling her thin sweater tighter. "Didn't know Midnight Creek had wolves."