Chapter 2

[Amelia's POV]

"Millie! There's something in the mail for you!"

Mom's voice carries through our tiny apartment as I kick off my sneakers by the door. The weekend finally arrived, and after three days of avoiding eye contact with every customer at the coffee shop – terrified one of them might be him – I'm exhausted.

Every time the bell above the door chimes, every time someone orders something complicated, every time I catch a whiff of expensive cologne. My whole body goes on high alert, Ashley perking up hopefully while I try to disappear behind the espresso machine.

He hasn't come, Ashley sulks. Why hasn't he come looking for us?

"Because it was a one-night stand," I mutter under my breath. "Get over it."

But even I don't believe that anymore. Not after the dreams I've been having. Not after waking up every morning with his scent still haunting my memory and an ache between my legs that won't go away.

"What was that, honey?"

"Nothing, Mom." I pad into our cramped living room where she's standing by our makeshift kitchen counter, holding an elegant white envelope. Her silver-gray eyes are sparkling with something I haven't seen in months.

Excitement.

"This came for you today," she says, and her voice has this barely contained energy that makes my stomach flip. "It's from Silver Moon Pack Agency."

My heart stops.

Silver Moon Pack. One of the most powerful entertainment agencies in the country. The kind of place that makes careers and destroys them just as easily. I've been dreaming about getting their attention for years, but I never thought...

"Are you sure it's for me?" I take the envelope with shaking hands. The paper feels expensive, thick and cream-colored with my name printed in elegant script across the front.

Ms. Amelia Brown.

Not Millie. Not Miss Brown. Just formal and professional and... real.

Mom bounces on her toes beside me. "Well? Open it!"

I slide my finger under the flap, trying not to tear the expensive paper. Inside is a single sheet of letterhead, the Silver Moon logo embossed at the top. My eyes scan the text once, twice, three times before the words actually sink in.

Dear Ms. Brown,

We are pleased to invite you to audition for representation with Silver Moon Pack Agency. Your recent performance at our industry showcase demonstrated significant potential, and we would like to schedule a formal audition at your earliest convenience.

Please contact our offices to arrange an appointment within the next two weeks.

Sincerely,

The Silver Moon Creative Team

"Oh my god." The words come out as barely a whisper.

"What? What does it say?" Mom crowds closer, trying to read over my shoulder.

"I... they want to see me. For real. Not just some mass casting call." I look up at her, and I can feel this huge grin spreading across my face. "This audition should be a big deal, right?"

Mom's face breaks into the biggest smile I've seen from her in years. "I think it is, baby."

For a moment, we just stare at each other. Then, like we're connected by some invisible wire, we both throw our hands up in the air.

"YES!" we shriek in unison, jumping up and down like idiots in our tiny living room.

I grab Mom's hands and we spin in a circle, laughing and whooping until Mrs. Chen next door bangs on the wall. But I don't care. Let her complain. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me.

I've been working toward this my whole life. Ever since I was a little girl putting on shows for Mom in our living room, ever since high school when I got my first role in the school play, ever since I somehow managed to get a scholarship to drama school despite being an Omega from a nothing family.

It's true. While my classmates worried about which designer dress to wear to showcases, I was working three part-time jobs to afford my textbooks. While they went to expensive acting coaches, I practiced with Mom in front of our bathroom mirror.

But I was good. Good enough to graduate with honors.

The hardest part wasn't the work or the money. It was hiding what I am.

Drama school was full of werewolves – mostly Betas with some Alpha professors – but very few Omegas. We're rare enough that most people assume we don't exist outside of wealthy Pack families. A poor Omega trying to make it on her own? That's practically unheard of.

So I learned to be careful. I used Mom's special perfume religiously. I dated human boys who couldn't smell what I really was, even though every relationship ended badly because I could never fully connect with them.

By my last year, I'd given up on finding love entirely. Better to focus on my career. Better to pour all my energy into becoming the kind of actress who could change people's minds about what an Omega could be.

And now, maybe, that's actually going to happen.

When we finally calm down, both breathing hard and grinning like fools, Mom pulls me into a tight hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Millie," she whispers against my hair. "Your father would be too."

My throat gets tight. Dad's been gone since I was a baby, but Mom always talks about him like he's still watching over us.

"I'll go make dinner!" Mom says, pulling back with tears in her eyes. "Let's celebrate!"