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.

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!"

She bustles toward our tiny kitchen, humming under her breath, and I sink onto our secondhand couch with the letter still clutched in my hands. Silver Moon Pack Agency wants to see me. Wants to represent me.

This could change everything.

No more scraping together rent money. No more watching Mom work three different jobs just to keep us afloat. No more hiding what I am, pretending I'm just another struggling actress instead of an Omega trying to make it in an Alpha-dominated world.

Maybe, Ashley whispers. If we're good enough.

"We will be," I tell her. "We have to be."

I read the letter again, memorizing every word. Then I carefully fold it and tuck it into my purse. This is going to sit on my nightstand where I can look at it every morning and remember that someone thinks I have potential.

"Dinner's ready!" Mom calls, and the smell of her famous spaghetti sauce fills the apartment.

We eat at our tiny table by the window, the same one we've had since I was little. Mom keeps grinning at me between bites, and I can't stop bouncing my leg under the table.

"So," she says, twirling pasta around her fork, "what are you going to wear?"

Reality hits me like a cold splash of water. "Oh god. I need a real audition outfit. And..." I touch my neck unconsciously, remembering the marks that finally faded yesterday. "I need more of that special perfume you make me."

Mom's expression gets serious. She knows what I mean. The special blend she created to mask my Omega scent during certain times of the month. It's not perfect, but it's kept me safe this long.

"Don't worry about the perfume," she says. "I always keep extra on hand. But clothes..." She gets up and disappears into her bedroom for a moment.

When she comes back, she's carrying a shoebox tied with a faded ribbon.

"Here," she says, setting it on the table in front of me. "I bought these for you. For when you graduated from drama school. I've been saving them for something special."

I open the box with shaking hands. Inside is a pair of black heels – not expensive, but elegant and professional. Exactly what I'd need for an audition.

"Mom..." My voice cracks. "You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did." She sits back down and takes my hands. "Ever since you graduated from drama school, I've been preparing for this moment. I've always believed you were going to make it big someday. Not just as someone's mate, but as yourself. As the talented, strong woman you are."

Tears prick my eyes. In the werewolf world, Omegas are seen as valuable mainly for one thing – being the perfect mate for some powerful Alpha. But Mom's never treated me that way. She's always encouraged my dreams, even when they seemed impossible.

"I still need the rest of the outfit," I say, wiping my eyes. "White shirt, black skirt, maybe a blazer..."

"We'll figure it out," Mom says firmly. "Even if I have to work extra shifts this week."

"Mom, no. You're already working too much. Your back—"

"My back is fine." She waves off my concern, but I catch the way she winces when she reaches for her water glass. The monthly transformations are getting harder on her as she gets older. "This is important, Millie. This is your shot."

After dinner, I help clean up and then retreat to my tiny bedroom. It's barely big enough for a single bed and a small dresser, but it's mine. The walls are covered with photos from drama school, scripts I've collected over the years, and a few headshots I managed to afford.

I prop myself up against my pillows and pull out the audition letter again. In the lamplight, the Silver Moon logo seems to shimmer.

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.

"I was always the scholarship kid," I whisper to the empty room.

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. How could I explain to someone that I turned into a wolf once a month? That I had instincts and needs I didn't fully understand myself? That sometimes Ashley took over and I became someone else 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.

I fold the letter one more time and set it on my nightstand where I can see it first thing in the morning. Tomorrow, I'll call Silver Moon Pack Agency and schedule my audition. Tomorrow, I'll start preparing for the most important moment of my life.