Elara POV

The therapist's office is silent. I have said all I want to today, and my campus-appointed therapist won't let me leave until our time is up. I let my eyes come in and out of focus as I stare at the ceiling. I am trying to pass the time until the session ends. It is the last day of the Fall semester, and I am ready to go home to see my family. It has been more than a year since I have seen them.

"Tell me about the dream one more time," my therapist, Davis asks. "This time, don't leave out any details. No matter how insignificant they may seem."

I groan loudly. We have been over this dream a thousand times. I glance over in his direction, but his face is buried in his notepad.

Reluctantly, I sigh and begin my dream from the start. "I am little, maybe three or four years old. I am walking through the forest with a large white wolf by my side."

"What color are the wolf's eyes?" Davis interrupts.

I close my eyes and try to recall the details of the dream. I picture the wolf from my dream. "Gold," I reply. "Her eyes were gold."

"Like yours?" Davis asks.

"No," I pause. "Hers were brighter. Almost like they glowed."

"How do you know the wolf is female?" He interrupts again.

"I don't know," I snap at him. "I just do."

Davis pinches the bridge of his nose and waves his hand in my direction. "Continue."

"There is snow on the ground, and my boots are too small. My toes curl in front of the boots, and they are cold. The snow is so high that it is falling inside the tops of my boots. I am not wearing the proper clothes to be outside, and I am shivering."

I pause as I get lost in the dream. I can feel my anxiety begin to spike, and I have to remember my breathing techniques.

"The wind picks up, and snow falls from the treetops. It swirls around me, and I find it difficult to see the white wolf. I try to shield my eyes with my hand, but she is nowhere to be found. The sound of wolves howls in the distance, and I spin in circles, trying to find my guide. My tears are stinging my cheeks as they freeze in the wind and snow.

Each moment feels longer than the last as I search for the wolf. The howling of wolves gets closer, and a voice echoes in my mind. It tells me to run."

"Then what happens?" Davis asks.

"The large wolf nudges me forward with its muzzle, and I run through the snow. But the snow is too deep, and I trip and fall. I look down at my hands, and they are beginning to turn blue. I try to ball them up into fists, but it feels like my bones will break.

"I am on my hands and knees crawling through the snow when I hear fighting behind me. I want to look over my shoulder, but I am too scared. Arms wrap around me, and that's when I wake up," I finish opening my eyes.

Davis pulls his glass off his face, and I can see the long scar that covers one of his eyes. His eyes are milky white with flecks of color in them. He used to be jarring to look at, but I am getting used to it. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head in frustration.

"Which way did the white wolf go?" He asks. "Did she fight, or did she run away?"

I sit up on the couch and glare at Davis. "I don't know. That's not part of my dream."

Davis leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "You said you heard fighting," he continues. "Who was fighting?"

"I don't know," I say again, slower this time. "That's not part of my dream."

I am beginning to get frustrated. The questions are the same every time I come, and I am beginning to question whether he is qualified.

Davis sits back and laces his fingers together on his lap. "Tell me about the day you were found."

My eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. I haven't talked about that day, ever. "I don't think I am ready to talk about that," I manage to choke out.

Davis scribbles something on his notepad and checks the time. There are about five minutes left in our session. I breathe out a sigh of relief. Even if I wanted to talk about how I was found, there wouldn't be enough time. Davis seems to realize that as well.

"Will you be here over winter break?" He asks.

"No," I answer curtly. "I will be going home."

"I see," he says. "Which pack are you a part of?"

"The Obsidian Pack," I tell him.

"Interesting," Davis mutters.

"Why is that interesting?" I ask.

"You do not look like you are from the Obsidian Pack," he responds. "Most of them have dark hair and eyes. You, on the other hand, are the opposite."

"So," I reply, offended.

"It is likely that the Obsidian Pack isn't your true home," he tells me.

"Whatever," I mumble. "It is my home now."

"We can schedule virtual visits while you are off campus," Davis informs me. "I don't want you to miss any sessions."

I fidget uncomfortably on the couch. "Is that really necessary? My family doesn't know I have been in therapy, and I would like to keep it that way."

"In order for you to get the full benefits of therapy, you need to commit fully," he lectures. "Why don't you want your family to know?"

A quiet bell rings, signaling that the session is over. I get up from the couch and do not answer his question. He has gotten enough out of me today.

"Keep your phone with you," Davis yells after me. "I will be checking up on your progress while you are gone."

I slam the door behind me and take a moment to collect myself. Within seconds my boyfriend, Kevin, is at my side. His arms immediately wrap around me, and I sink into them. I let the tears that I was holding back flow freely.

"How did it go?" Kevin asks.

I wipe my eyes and look up into his eyes. They are a strange shade of purple, making me think about what Davis said about me not fitting into the Obsidian Pack. Kevin's home pack is the Amythest Pack. But I have never encountered another werewolf with eyes the same color as mine. But I also have no wolf, so I haven't put much thought into where I belong.

Kevin runs his fingers down my face, bringing me from my thoughts. "How did it go?" He asks again.

"Same session, different day," I grumble as I head for the door.

"You know he is just trying to help you," Kevin says quietly. "Your nightmares…"

"I know," I shout. "I have to put in the work."

Kevin takes my hand and leads me to the elevator. "I don't want to fight with you," he says gently. "Not when I am getting ready to meet your parents for the first time."

My mood instantly lightens, and I smile. "They will love you," I tell him. "It's not like I am waiting for my fated mate like you."

"You could have a fated mate," Kevin says sadly. "And they will have to fight me to take you away from me."

"I'm an Omega, remember," I try to sound cheerful. "We don't get fated mates."