The full moon had come and gone, but the pull it left behind still lingered in my blood. I couldn't help it—my instincts screamed for freedom, for the wild, for the run. But there was something else now, something more. It wasn't just the call of the wolf anymore—it was Peter.

I could feel him watching me even now, his gaze warm, but there was something else in his eyes too. Something I couldn't put my finger on, but it made my pulse race. I didn't know how to navigate this connection, this bond between us. It felt more than just physical. It felt deeper, rooted in something unspoken. The problem was, I wasn't used to this kind of closeness. I'd always been alone.

"I'm not used to this," I muttered, turning away from the window, my fingers still trembling from the lingering touch of his hands.

Peter leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "You don't have to be," he said softly. "Not yet. Take your time."

I nodded but didn't meet his gaze. The truth was, I wasn't sure I wanted to take my time. My wolf side craved the certainty of the pack, the safety of belonging somewhere again, but there was still that part of me—the part that had been forged in solitude—that wanted to remain untethered.

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to push down the feelings rising within me. I wasn't sure if I was ready for this... for him... or even for what it meant to be part of something again. But one thing was clear: no matter how hard I tried to resist, Peter's presence in my life wasn't something I could escape.

"I don't know how to be part of a pack," I whispered, almost to myself.

"You don't have to know yet. We'll figure it out together."

His words held weight, like a promise. The silence that followed felt heavy with unspoken tension, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was a kind of closeness I wasn't used to, but I was starting to crave.

Just as I was about to say something, a loud knock on the door broke the moment. I stiffened, instinctively shifting my stance. Peter's expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Trouble?" I asked, my senses flaring.

"Could be," he replied, his voice low and measured. "Stay here. I'll handle it."

I tilted my head and listened to the voices on the other side of the door: Lydia, Kira, and someone else. I hadn't met her before. She seemed slightly uneasy in Peter's presence.

"It's safe, Little Wolf," Peter called, "I suspect they want to take you out for a girls' day or something."

I stepped out, brow raised in curiousity, "What is a girls' day?"

"It's where we take you away from the men. And we spend time together doing stuff just us girls," Kira said.

"You've been around just Derek and Peter so long, it's going to take a whole day for us to teach you how to be a human girl," Lydia added.

Peter chuckled under his breath, leaning casually against the doorframe. "You hear that? They think they're doing you a favor."

I shot him a look but couldn't help the amused smirk tugging at my lips. "Is this some kind of ritual?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"It's not a ritual," Lydia said, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's survival. Trust me, Nova, if you're going to live among humans, there are certain… skills you'll need."

Kira nodded enthusiastically. "Like shopping! And trying new things. Plus, you'll get to relax, and I'm pretty sure you could use that."

I tilted my head again, my curiosity piqued despite my initial wariness. The idea of spending time with other women was new to me. I'd always been surrounded by wolves—family, packmates, enemies—but never just… people. The thought was strange but oddly appealing.

Peter pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Go on, Little Wolf. They might actually teach you something useful. Just don't let them talk you into anything too ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Lydia's voice was sharp, though there was a hint of playfulness in her glare. "You mean like trusting you, Peter?"

"Touché," he smirked. "But I'm the one you'll thank when she survives a girls' day with her sanity intact."

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the jacket Peter had draped over the back of a chair and shrugged it on. "I'll go," I said, surprising myself. "But only because I'm curious."

"That's the spirit!" Kira grinned, clapping her hands together.

Peter caught my wrist as I passed him, his gaze searching mine. "Don't let them corrupt you too much, Little Wolf."

I smiled softly, touched by his quiet protectiveness. "I'll be fine."

As I followed Lydia, Kira, and their uneasy new companion toward their car, I felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in my chest. A girls' day. It sounded simple enough, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be one of the biggest challenges I'd faced yet.

I studied the women before me, unsure what a "girls' day" would entail. Lydia's confidence radiated like a challenge, while Kira's warm smile promised patience. The third girl—a petite brunette with nervous energy—stood slightly behind them, avoiding eye contact with Peter. I didn't blame her. His presence was intense even when he wasn't trying.

"Are you ready?" Kira asked with an encouraging tone.

I hesitated, glancing back at Peter, who leaned casually against the doorframe. His smirk was subtle, but his eyes held a flicker of something I couldn't place. Amusement? Approval?

"You'll be fine, Nova," he said, his voice reassuring but edged with something teasing. "Just don't let Lydia talk you into anything too... extravagant."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. A spa day and some shopping won't kill her."

"Shopping?" I asked, my brow furrowing. "You mean... acquiring more clothes?"

Lydia sighed dramatically. "Yes, Nova. Clothes. And shoes. And maybe a little makeup. You know, human girl things."

Kira nudged her gently. "Go easy on her. It's her first time doing anything like this."

I glanced at Peter again, who gave a slight nod, as if granting me permission I didn't need. Still, it was comforting. "Okay," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'll go."

"Perfect!" Lydia said, clapping her hands together. "This is going to be fun."

As we stepped out into the sunlight, I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Peter stood in the doorway, watching us leave. His smirk had softened into something warmer. The bond between us tugged faintly as I followed the girls to Kira's car, wondering what this "human girl" experience would teach me—and what Peter might think of me afterward.

—-

The mall, they told me as we drove, was a building full of different stores of different types. Kira was looking for a dress for something called a winter formal.

"You should come, right?" Kira said, "I bet you'll have fun. You can dance and have fun meeting new people."

"I already know enough people," I said looking from her to Lydia, and then the new girl they'd introduced as Malia.

Lydia laughed softly, a sound that felt both amused and knowing. "You sound like Peter," she said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "But trust me, there's a big difference between knowing people and actually connecting with them."

"I connect just fine," I replied, crossing my arms.

"Do you?" Malia asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Her voice was quiet, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "Because I've seen Peter, and he doesn't exactly scream 'healthy social role model.'"

"Peter's not as bad as everyone thinks," I said instinctively, my voice firm. I didn't care if they understood. Peter was mine in a way they couldn't begin to comprehend.

Lydia waved a hand dismissively. "We're not here to debate Peter's character flaws—though I could write a novel. We're here to help Nova experience something normal. Like a winter formal."

"Normal?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Dancing in a crowded room with loud music and people you barely know doesn't sound normal."

"That's because you've never done it," Kira said, her tone bright and encouraging. "Trust me, once you try, it can be really fun. Plus, you'd look amazing in a formal dress."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The idea of dressing up, of blending into their world, felt foreign. I'd spent so long surviving in the wild that pretending to be human felt like wearing a mask I didn't know how to take off.

But Kira's enthusiasm was contagious, and Lydia's determination made it clear they weren't going to let this go.

"We're here," Lydia announced as she pulled into the mall parking lot.

The building was massive, its size almost overwhelming. The sheer number of scents—food, perfumes, people—hit me the moment we walked inside. I faltered for a moment, but Malia stepped up beside me.

"Overwhelming, huh?" she asked, her voice quieter now, almost understanding.

I nodded. "A little."

"You get used to it," she said, and for the first time, her tone held a hint of solidarity.

As they led me toward the first store, I couldn't help but wonder if this was what Peter had meant when he said I needed to live in the world instead of just surviving it. Maybe he was right.

The mall was a sensory overload. Bright lights, a cacophony of voices, and the sheer mix of scents—sweet, savory, synthetic—pressed down on me. It felt unnatural, like I'd stepped into a world that wasn't meant for me.

"Relax, Nova," Lydia said as we entered the first store, a boutique filled with racks of colorful dresses. "It's just a mall, not a battlefield."

Easy for her to say. She didn't have to focus on tuning out a thousand heartbeats or fight the instinct to bare her teeth at the stranger who brushed a little too close.

Kira grabbed my hand, pulling me toward a rack of shimmering dresses. "What about this one? It's perfect for you!" She held up a soft green gown with delicate embroidery.

I stared at it, then at her. "What would I even do in something like that?"

"Twirl around, look gorgeous, and make everyone wonder where you came from," Lydia said with a smirk. "Trust me, Nova, people like a bit of mystery."

Malia snorted. "Yeah, or you could just pick something comfortable. Why do humans need to dress up for every little thing, anyway?"

Kira shot her a look. "It's not just dressing up. It's about feeling confident and enjoying yourself. Right, Lydia?"

Lydia nodded, handing me a deep red dress. "Exactly. Besides, Peter would lose his mind if he saw you in this."

Her words made my stomach flip, though I wasn't sure why. Peter liked me the way I was, didn't he? Still, I couldn't help imagining his reaction, his sharp eyes softening for a moment as he took me in.

"I don't know," I muttered, brushing my fingers over the fabric. It felt delicate, like something that belonged to another life.

"You're trying it on," Lydia declared, pushing me toward the fitting rooms.

Inside, I slipped into the dress, the cool material clinging to my skin. When I stepped out, Kira's face lit up, Malia gave an approving nod, and Lydia looked smug, like she'd just won a game I didn't even know we were playing.

"See? Stunning," Lydia said.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. The girl staring back looked... unfamiliar. Her curves were accented by the dress, her posture more upright. For the first time, I didn't feel like a wolf trying to play human—I felt like both could exist together.

"What do you think?" Kira asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"I think..." I hesitated, searching for the words. "I think I could get used to this."

Malia grinned. "Welcome to the club."

As we moved on to the next store, I found myself relaxing, even laughing at Kira's jokes and Lydia's dramatic fashion advice. Maybe this wasn't my world, but it didn't feel as foreign anymore. And maybe, just maybe, I could find a place here after all.

"Okay, after lunch, hair and nails?" Kira asked, her excitement evident as we made our way toward the food court. The sheer number of options left me wide-eyed—rows of stalls offering everything from pizza to noodles, and the air was thick with mingling aromas that made my stomach growl.

"Definitely," Lydia chimed in, glancing over at me with her signature appraising look. "I think Nova would look good with some long layers. Tame a little of the wildness in her hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" I asked, frowning as I instinctively touched the loose waves cascading over my shoulders. My hair had always been... just my hair. Something practical, nothing to fuss over.

"Nothing," Malia said, giving me a look that bordered on reassuring and impatient. "They just want you to fit in. Just go with it. It'll make them happy, and you'll feel lighter too."

"Tame the wildness," I repeated under my breath, trying to understand what Lydia meant. Was my hair really so unruly? It had always just been an extension of me.

"Don't overthink it," Kira said, nudging me playfully. "Think of it as an upgrade. And besides, it's fun! You'll see."

I nodded hesitantly, letting their chatter flow around me as we reached the tables. The girls debated over which stall to order from, but my attention was caught by the colorful trays passing by.

Lydia eventually placed a tray in front of me piled with a mix of food that looked both foreign and oddly tempting. "Start with this," she said with a wink.

As I picked at the fries and took a tentative bite of the burger, I caught snippets of their conversation about hairstyles, nail colors, and something called an "ombre effect."

"Do you think Peter will like it?" Lydia asked suddenly, her words catching me off guard.

I nearly choked on my drink. "Why does it matter what Peter thinks?"

Kira laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. "Oh, it matters. You just don't know it yet."

Malia smirked but didn't comment, while Lydia gave me a knowing smile. "Trust me, Nova. A little change can go a long way."

"Why does it matter what Peter thinks?" I repeated, doing my best to sound indifferent, though my voice betrayed me with a slight quiver.

"Oh, it matters," Lydia said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, leaning her chin on her hand. "It always matters when it comes to Peter."

I swallowed hard, feeling my cheeks heat. "He's just—he's—" I stumbled, searching for the right words. "He's Peter. It's not like that."

"Sure, it's not," Kira teased, grinning at my flustered expression. "You only blush every time we mention his name."

"I do not!"

"You're doing it now," Malia said, her smirk widening as she pointed at my face.

I huffed and crossed my arms, staring down at my tray as if it could save me from their scrutiny. "It's just hot in here," I muttered.

"Right," Lydia said, drawing out the word. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you're practically glowing every time you talk about him."

"It's not like that," I insisted, though the words felt weak even to my own ears.

"Maybe you don't think so," Kira said with a playful shrug. "But Peter? He definitely sees you differently. I've seen the way he looks at you, Nova. It's... intense."

I froze, unsure how to respond. My mind raced back to the way Peter's eyes seemed to pierce right through me, the way his voice softened when he called me Little Wolf, the way his touch lingered just a second longer than necessary.

Lydia raised an eyebrow knowingly, catching the faraway look in my eyes. "See? You're thinking about him right now, aren't you?"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head, though the redness in my cheeks betrayed me once again.

Kira giggled, nudging Malia. "What do you think, Malia? Should we give Nova a Peter-approved makeover?"

Malia smirked. "I think Nova doesn't stand a chance against him, makeover or not."

My jaw dropped, but before I could respond, Lydia patted my hand gently. "Relax, Nova. We're just having fun. But, you know, maybe you should start thinking about what you want. Because something tells me Peter already knows exactly what he wants."

Her words lingered as the conversation shifted back to hairstyles and dresses. I poked at the food on my tray, trying to drown out their teasing, but their voices echoed in my head. Did Peter see me differently? And if he did... what did I want?

I'd never given much thought to what I wanted. My life had always been about surviving—finding the next meal, the next place to rest, staying one step ahead of danger. Even now, in this place, surrounded by people who called themselves friends, I was still trying to survive. Not the wilds this time, but something just as foreign: being human.

But when Peter touched me—when his hands lingered on my skin and that electric fire flickered through me—I wanted more than survival. I wanted to be human, to feel everything in a way I hadn't before. The vulnerability, the connection, the weight of his gaze on me—it was as terrifying as it was intoxicating.

I stared at my reflection in the glass of a nearby shop window as we walked through the mall, catching a glimpse of the girl they wanted me to be. Layers in my hair. Polished nails. A dress to wear to a winter formal. It felt like a costume, something to make me blend in. But underneath, there was still me—the wildness that Peter didn't try to tame, that he seemed to admire.

"Nova?" Kira's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see her holding up two dresses. "Which one do you think I should get? The blue or the red?"

I blinked at her, not quite processing the question. "The... red?"

She grinned. "Good choice. Red's bold. Eye-catching. Something Peter would probably like—oh, wait, we're talking about me now, not you!"

The teasing laughter bubbled up again, and I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips.

Lydia stepped beside me, her eyes sharp and assessing as she followed my gaze to my reflection. "You know, Nova, you don't have to fit in here to belong. But if you want to figure out what you want—whether it's Peter or this world or something entirely different—it's okay to take the time to find it."

Her words settled over me, heavy and thoughtful. Maybe she was right. Maybe this wasn't about being human or wolf, about survival or belonging. Maybe, for once, it was about figuring out what I wanted—who I wanted to be.

And as much as I hated to admit it, one thing I was sure of: Peter was part of the answer.

I let Lydia usher me into what they called a beauty salon, though the sharp, chemical smell made me wrinkle my nose. It was like rancid roadkill mixed with something bitter and metallic. I wasn't sure how anything that smelled this awful could make someone beautiful.

But when they started cutting my hair, I began to understand what Malia meant. The weight that had clung to me—both physical and emotional—seemed to lift with every snip of the scissors. By the time they finished, my head felt lighter, freer. I caught my reflection in the mirror. The layers softened the wildness in my hair, but it was still me.

As we walked toward the nail station, I turned to Malia, Lydia, and Kira, my brow furrowed as I tried to make sense of their teasing from earlier.

"All of this," I said, gesturing to my hair, the brightly lit salon, the way they kept glancing at each other with sly smiles, "is this some kind of... mating ritual humans do?"

Malia snorted, barely able to keep her laughter in. Lydia, on the other hand, seemed to relish the question, her perfectly arched brows rising as she exchanged a glance with Kira.

"Well, not exactly," Lydia said with a mischievous grin. "But looking your best does help. Humans like things to feel... intentional. Mating isn't just about instinct for us. There's courtship, chemistry, flirting. It's a whole process."

Kira leaned closer, her voice soft but excited. "It's about making a connection, you know? Getting to know someone, spending time together. Building trust."

I frowned, my mind circling back to Peter. His touch, his gaze, the way he seemed to know exactly what I needed without me having to say it. "But what happens when you already feel connected? When you already... know?"

Malia leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Then you skip all the fuss and just go for it," she said with a shrug. "Honestly, humans overcomplicate everything. If you want him, take him."

"Malia!" Kira looked scandalized, but Lydia only laughed.

"She's not wrong," Lydia said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But there's something to be said for letting things unfold naturally. It's not a race, Nova. Sometimes the anticipation makes it all the sweeter."

I nodded slowly, my thoughts tangled in their words. Humans might overcomplicate things, but there was a certain charm in the way they approached connection and intimacy.

Still, Malia's blunt advice lingered. If I wanted something—or someone—wasn't it better to go for it than to hold back?

—-

My arms were loaded with bags as I stepped inside Derek's loft, the door clicking shut behind me. The bags were heavy with all the new clothes and accessories the girls had insisted on. Derek stepped up, offering to help me carry them to the spare room. The bed was neatly made, and though it looked inviting, I'd been spending most nights curled up on the floor near the fire. It was just one more human thing I needed to figure out—where exactly I fit into this world.

He set the bags down and glanced at me. "You look nice," he said, his gaze lingering for a moment. "Like you, but... enhanced, if that makes sense."

I gave him a small smile. "Thank you." There was a warmth in his tone that felt genuine. It was something I hadn't expected, and yet it comforted me in a way I couldn't fully explain.

I glanced at him, then back down at the pile of bags. "What day is Saturday?"

"The day after tomorrow," he replied, looking confused. "Why do you ask?"

I set the last of the bags down on the bed and took a breath. "Lydia said I should tell you and Peter to chaperone the formal on Saturday so I can go."

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Chaperone?"

"Yeah, apparently you and Peter are supposed to keep an eye on things, make sure nothing gets out of hand," I said, unsure if I was explaining it right. The concept of a 'formal' was still a bit foreign to me. "It's kind of like... a party, but fancier."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I didn't think anyone would want us around for that. But if Lydia insists..."

I wasn't sure if he was annoyed by the idea or simply resigned to it. Either way, I could feel my heart rate quicken at the thought of attending the event. It would be the first time I'd be in a room full of people I didn't know well. The idea of fitting in, of being seen as something other than the outcast, felt strange but also exciting.

"You sure you want to go?" Derek asked, his expression softening. "It's not exactly a casual affair."

"I think I need to try," I said, feeling a surge of determination. "I've spent enough time just surviving, Derek. I want to live, even if that means doing things I've never done before."

He studied me for a long moment, his gaze intense and unreadable, before finally nodding. "Alright. We'll do it. But just so you know, I can't promise I'll make it fun."

I couldn't help but smile at his dry humor. "That's all I need from you," I replied.

My ears perked up as I heard the door open and close in the other room. Peter.

"Did you survive girls' day, Little Wolf?" he called out, his voice smooth, teasing.

I stepped out of the room, standing in the doorway and glancing over at him. I had to admit, there was a part of me that wondered what he thought about how I looked. What if I was still too... wild for him?

"I think so," I replied, shrugging lightly, trying to sound casual even though my heart was picking up its pace.

Peter's gaze shifted to me the moment I spoke, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at me like that, but this time, there was something sharper in his focus, something a little more intense.

"Not bad," he said, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. His eyes lingered on mine, and for a brief moment, I couldn't look away.

I wasn't sure if it was the way he said it or the way he looked at me, but my body reacted—an almost electric heat spreading across my skin. There was something undeniably powerful in the way he saw me.

"What do you think?" I asked, voice a little quieter than I meant it to be, but I couldn't help it. I was aware now. Of him. Of me. Of what we were becoming.

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I think you're exactly what I wanted you to be," he murmured, his voice low and rich, the kind of tone that made my heart race even faster.

I knew if he listened closely, he could hear it—my racing heart, the quickened rhythm of my breaths. He'd know exactly how he made me feel. Maybe he didn't even need his wolf senses to figure it out. It was written all over me, plain as day.

Trying to distract myself from the weight of his gaze, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the plastic card Lydia had handed me earlier. I held it out to him. "Lydia said she gave it a workout. Not sure what that means."

Peter took the card from me, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment. His smirk deepened as he examined it. "Of course she did."

He looked me over again, slower this time, like he was committing every detail to memory. "But," he said, his voice softening just a fraction, "you're definitely worth it."

Warmth spread through me, a fire igniting under my skin that had nothing to do with the loft's crackling hearth. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond to something that felt so genuine and raw. Instead, I stood there, holding his gaze, feeling more seen than I ever had before.

"Yeah," Derek's voice sliced through the tension like a blade, pulling me back to reality. He stepped into the room, his expression unreadable as usual. "Lydia wants us to chaperone the dance and take her. What do you think?"

Peter's smirk returned instantly, sharp and teasing. "Do you want to be the belle of the ball, Little Wolf?" His tone was light, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. "It's a different kind of wild—mingling with hormonal teenagers."

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him. "Is it dangerous?"

Derek snorted, crossing his arms. "Only if you let them drag you into their drama. Which they will try."

"Dances aren't about danger," Peter countered smoothly. "They're about spectacle. Lights, music, and hormones. But who knows—maybe our Little Wolf will enjoy being the center of attention for once."

I wasn't sure how to respond. The thought of being surrounded by humans—young, loud, emotional humans—felt foreign and overwhelming. But the idea of experiencing something so uniquely human also intrigued me. And if Peter and Derek would be there… maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"I'll go," I said finally, glancing at Peter. "But only if you promise not to call me Little Wolf in front of everyone."

Peter laughed softly, the sound warm and low. "No promises."