Chapter 37: You Must Be The New Girl

Chapter 37: You Must Be The New Girl Kaya "Stop shouting!" The woman shoots me an irritated glare, but I barely register her annoyance. If she’s really about to commit a crime, then I want no part of it. "Hey, let me go!" I protest, yanking my arm in a futile attempt to free myself. But before I can earn another scowl from her, she suddenly halts, dragging me to a stop before a cluster of towering trees in what looks like an abandoned garden. She glances around warily, her hand slipping into the pocket of her worn leather jacket. Her fingers fumble for something as her sharp eyes scan the surroundings, her body taut with alertness. "Here we go," she murmurs, pulling out a thick ribbon—wider than the ones braided into her hair. In the dim light, I can make out its deep red hue. "Now, stand here and let me know if anyone’s coming, alright?" Without waiting for a response, she grips the lowest branch of a tree and hoists herself up, moving with practiced ease. I gape at her, completely dumbfounded. "What... what are you doing? What are we doing?" My voice barely rises above a whisper, but the panic is there, bubbling beneath the surface. She pauses on the first sturdy branch, looking down at me with narrowed eyes, as if she’s suddenly suspicious of me. "I already told you—we’re committing a crime." Then, shaking her head as if I’m the idiot here, she resumes her climb. I have absolutely no idea what to do. But since running away doesn’t seem like a viable option, I do as she instructed—I glance around, scanning the darkness, watching for any sign of movement. Luckily—or at least that’s how it feels—no one is around. Just as I start to wonder what exactly she’s up to, there’s a rustle from above, and the woman suddenly drops down, landing with a light thud. In her hands is a bottle of red wine. "Let’s go," she commands, grabbing me by the wrist once more. Her grin is wild, almost exhilarated. "It’s one thing to commit a crime—another to get away with it." And then, we run. I no longer feel the need to question her actions. What’s the point? She never answers anyway. But strangely, I don’t feel afraid anymore. In fact, an unexpected thrill courses through me, sending a rush of energy to my limbs. Before I even realize it, my feet pick up speed, my heart pounding not from fear, but from exhilaration. Soon, I no longer need her to drag me along. I’m running on my own. I don’t know how long we’ve been running, but I recognize the path—we’re heading back toward the pack house. The woman guides me to one of the back entrances, her pace slowing as she ducks low, moving with a careful, practiced stealth. She glances over her shoulder like a true criminal avoiding capture. By the time we slip inside, my breathing is uneven, but hers is steady, like she’s done this a hundred times before. We creep up the stairwell, her right hand buried deep in her jacket, fingers curled protectively around whatever she’s hiding. I follow in silence, tiptoeing behind her as if I, too, have become an accomplice. She halts on the gamma floor, weaving effortlessly through the dimly lit corridor. Before I can process what’s happening, she swings open a door and shoves me inside, locking it behind her with a soft click. For a moment, the room is silent. Then, she whirls around, a wide grin stretching across her lips. "Yes!" she yelps, bouncing on her heels as she does an odd little victory dance, her right arm raised high, shaking the wine bottle above her head like a trophy. Laughter spills from her lips, light and unrestrained. "Goddess, you have no idea how much I love doing this," she exclaims, striding toward the desk and placing the bottle down with a satisfied thud. I stare at her, my mouth slightly agape, my pulse still racing. "I’m sorry," I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes are wide in disbelief. "Did we really just commit a crime?" She blinks at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she bursts into laughter, her shoulders shaking as she claps her hands together in amusement. "Of course not! Oh, damn! I just realized—I don’t even know you!" She stops abruptly, and an awkward silence stretches between us. I stare at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. She only just realized she doesn’t know me? "Ahh," she hums, nodding slowly, as if recalling something important. "You must be that new girl—the omega, right?" I hesitate before nodding, bracing myself for the same reaction I got from the girls in the kitchen. But to my surprise, her expression doesn’t shift. No sneers, no disgust, no condescension. Instead, she shrugs off her leather jacket, revealing a black sports bra beneath. Muscles ripple subtly across her arms, a testament to her strength. She steps closer, extending a hand toward me, her grin easy and open. "Samantha Tillian. Warrior gamma," she introduces herself. "Nice to meet you." I glance down at her outstretched hand, my stomach twisting with uncertainty. Is she really being friendly, or is this another game? The door is still locked, after all. Goddess, I’m overthinking again. "So?" Samantha lifts a brow, jerking her chin toward her hand. "Am I gonna learn your name or not?" I swallow hard, then finally exhale. "Kaya," I murmur. "Kaya Moon." I accept her hand, but the moment her firm grip tightens around mine, I instinctively wince. Goddess, she’s strong. Her piercing blue eyes study me intently, the silence between us stretching long enough to make my skin prickle. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but there’s a weight to it, pressing down on me as if she’s trying to read something beyond just my name. Then, just as abruptly as she seized my hand, she releases it, her lips curling into another wide, easy grin. "Moon, huh?" she muses, tilting her head slightly. "Yeah... I can see the resemblance."