CHAPTER 39: THE NAME OF MY WOLF

Kaya

"All right," I agree, and I can feel the flicker of excitement in my own eyes.

Damien had been the only person who ever wanted to tell me about himself, the only one who willingly shared his world with me. And now... finally, I’ve found someone else. The feeling is almost overwhelming—like a door cracking open to a place I never thought I’d be allowed to step into.

"So," Samantha drawls, as if searching for the right words. "I’m Samantha Tillian, one of the gamma warriors of Black Moon. Comes with the bloodline, really. My family has been made up of gamma soldiers for generations. So naturally, I’m built like a damn tank."

She flashes a quick grin before flexing her toned biceps at me, her confidence almost contagious.

"When the Lycan King established this pack, I didn’t have much of a choice but to join. Originally, I was from the Silver Fang pack."

I nod, recognizing the name. Silver Fang... they had been our neighboring pack back when I still had one to call my own.

"My wolf’s name is Sunny," she adds, and I blink at her, caught off guard.

Samantha sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes as if she’s already bracing for my reaction. "Yeah, yeah, don’t even ask. She was the one who picked it."

"I see." I bite the inside of my cheek, struggling to keep a straight face. Of all the names for a warrior’s wolf...

Samantha falls silent after that, so I assume it’s my turn to share something about myself. But I don’t want to. What would I even say? There’s nothing about my life that I want

to talk about—nothing worth sharing, anyway.

Instead, I latch onto a safer topic.

"This pack," I say carefully, choosing my words like stepping stones across a river. "What can you tell me about it?"

"Hm." Samantha tilts her head, seemingly unaware of my attempt to steer the conversation away from myself.

Instead, she takes my question seriously, her expression thoughtful. "We’re a pretty standard pack—nothing too special about us. Well, except for one thing... we don’t really follow the usual hierarchy. No servants, and definitely no slaves, Goddess forbid. Everyone pulls their weight. Everyone contributes."

She pauses, as if considering what else is worth mentioning. "Since we’ve only been together for about ten years, we’re not as tightly knit as some of the older packs. Those have generations of wolves bonded by blood and tradition. But we’re close—almost everyone here is friendly."

"Yeah, almost..." I mutter, my lips twisting into a bitter smile.

"Aha!" Samantha suddenly exclaims, leaning forward with an excited gleam in her eyes. "I knew it. Someone’s been giving you trouble. Spill it. Who tried to bully you?"

I hesitate, my tongue itching to confess. "Well... I don’t know their names," I admit, shifting uncomfortably. "There was a tall girl near the coffee machine yesterday. Straight black hair, narrow eyes. Muscular, too."

"Ah, Josephine." Samantha clicks her tongue in recognition. "Yeah, she’s got a sharp tongue and a permanent resting bitch face, but trust me, she’s harmless. She’s a gamma too. Most of us are."

I nod, mentally filing away the name before another memory resurfaces. "Then, there were three girls in the kitchen this morning—"

"Oh, of course," Samantha groans, rolling her eyes. "The Mean Girls."

I blink at her, taken aback. "The Mean Girls

?"

"Haven’t you seen the movie?" Samantha blinks at me, momentarily stunned. Then she waves a hand dismissively. "Never mind. Anyway, they’re Sally, Gloria, and Eva—all gammas, but the bitchy kind. Gloria—the one with darker skin and short brown hair—is their self-proclaimed leader. She’s obsessed with Alpha Magnus and convinced she’s his mate. You know, with all the weirdness surrounding mating lately, female wolves really believe they have the upper hand in choosing their partners."

I stay silent, because honestly? I understand. It’s the male wolves who are struggling to find their mates now, not the other way around. And yet, somehow, they still act like the choice is entirely theirs.

"What’s the deal with Alpha Magnus?" The words slip out before I can stop them, and my eyes widen slightly in shock.

Thankfully, Samantha doesn’t seem to find anything strange about my question.

"Well, he’s tough, but fair. Some think he’s too young to be leading a pack, but I disagree. I don’t think anyone else here is more suited for the position than he is." She smirks. "And, let’s be honest, he’s easy on the eyes. I don’t blame Gloria—or the others—for being obsessed with him."

She gives me a knowing look, as if she suspects I might be falling under Magnus’s spell too. I open my mouth to protest, but stop myself. Because the truth is... she’s not entirely wrong. I once thought Damien was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but compared to Magnus, I realize just how mistaken I was.

"Then we have his ’two hands,’" Samantha continues, effortlessly picking up the conversation again. "Gamma Oliver takes care of pack matters whenever Magnus is away. He’s my friend, by the way—the one I play the wine game with." She grins, gesturing toward the half-empty bottle with a playful tilt of her chin.

"Aksel Walsh is the beta," Samantha continues, swirling the wine in her glass as she speaks. "He’s Magnus’s second-in-command when it comes to external matters—hunting, patrols, stuff like that. Most of the time, we only deal with him and Oliver. Magnus handles... well, the big picture."

I nod, though I don’t fully grasp what she means. There are so many names, so many people I don’t know—people I’m not sure I want to know. The idea of stepping into their world unnerves me. But at least for now, I feel certain that Samantha and Oliver mean me no harm.

After all, I don’t think people who play the Wine Game can be truly cruel.

"So," Samantha smiles again, her bright blue eyes locking onto mine with quiet curiosity. "What about you? What can you tell me? What’s your wolf’s name?"

I blink. Once. Twice. My breath catches slightly in my throat.

The name of my wolf...

What a great question.

There is no name because...

"I don’t have one."