Rosa.
I’d been trying to avoid that na. I saw her back at the Luna Hunt Gala. She was cute, alright. But also all grown up.
Okay, maybe I am a little guilt-ridden—not for thinking of her, but for the wave of mories she carried with her.
Rosa De La Vega: María José’s older sister, my childhood best friend, and the person I’d spent years avoiding like the plague.
Not because she was unpleasant, but because she was... Rosa. She was strong, stubborn, and so damn perceptive it was terrifying.
That na had always been a quiet ghost in my mind, haunting the corners of my thoughts when I least expected it. She wasn’t just María José’s older —she was the girl who kissed the day I left for boarding school, a mory I’d tried to bury for years but could never run faster than.
It was my first kiss.
-; ━━━☞
It was one of those impossibly warm sumr afternoons, the kind where the sun hung low and lazy. Rosa had been acting strange all day—quiet, fidgety, and her usual sharpness numbed into sothing... softer.
I’d shrugged it off, too preoccupied with my looming departure to notice anything unusual. Boarding school was supposed to be a fresh start—an escape from having to see my father’s face every day, Álvaro’s shadow, and my family’s suffocating expectations.
Truth be told, my father wanted to avoid just as much as I did him. The feeling was mutual. He’d known what I witnessed.
He knew I was there with Luis that day. He didn’t care that I witnessed such a gore scene because according to him: you’re going to be the Alpha one day. Being an Alpha ans making tough decisions. This is one of them. You have to learn, mi Chico.
That was where I realized my first goal: never beco the Alpha of the pack of the south. Never make Dad proud.
Back to Rosa; as the car was waiting by the driveway, she grabbed my hand and dragged behind the tall hedges that bordered the garden.
"Rosa, what—?" I started, but she cut off with a look.
It was her hazel eyes shining with sothing the little couldn’t na.
"I’m going to miss you," she said.
Her fingers were still wrapped around mine—much to my confusion. This wasn’t the Rosa who’d sneak into Señor Gracia’s farm to steal mango we never needed just because we wanted to climb the trees and make so trouble.
I blinked at her, caught off guard. "It’s not like I’m disappearing forever. I’ll write."
She laughed, but it was shaky. "You won’t. You’re terrible at keeping in touch."
Before I could argue, she stepped closer—so close I could see the tiny freckles scattered across her nose and the pale blush creeping up her cheeks.
"And I like you, Axel. I’ve liked you for... I don’t even know how long. But I just—"
She didn’t finish. Instead, she inclined forward and kissed in a soft, innocent childlike way. Because that’s what we were... soft, innocent, and children.
I froze, every muscle in my body locking up. It wasn’t that the kiss was bad—it wasn’t. It was sweet and honest in a way that should’ve lted . But it didn’t. It couldn’t.
Because I was .
The kind of guy who avoided feelings like they were a plague.
When she pulled back, her eyes searched mine, hopeful and nervous all at once.
"I’ll be waiting," she said softly.
There was a vulnerability in her voice that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t understand.
And that was how I lost my best friend.
I couldn’t respond to her confession. I couldn’t give her what she wanted, what she deserved. So I did what I always did—I dodged. I muttered sothing about needing to go and slipped away before she could say anything else.
That mory had remained with , poking at the edges of my mind when I least wanted it to. Not because I regretted leaving—I didn’t—but because it was the first ti soone had looked at like that, like I was worth waiting for.
And I didn’t know what to do with it. I still didn’t. As a child, I was emotionally unavailable. Now, as an adult, I was all the red in a red flag.
Definitely not the type of guy ladies should fantasize over. I was everything but a romantic.
.
.
Now, years later, as I drove back toward the Packhouse, her na wouldn’t stop ringing in my head—many thanks to her annoying junior sister.
Camilla. Turned out to be even worse than she was as a kid.
"Why does that stupid kiss still bother ?" I muttered under my breath.
"Because you’re a coward," Hugo answered bluntly.
"I’m not a coward," I shot back.
"Fine, you’re emotionally unavailable," he corrected, obviously enjoying himself. "Happy now?"
"Thrilled," I muttered, kicking a stray pebble on the path when I alighted from the car.
But Hugo wasn’t wrong—not that I’d ever admit it out loud. Rosa had kissed all those years ago, and instead of facing it, I’d run. Just like I ran at the gala when our eyes almost t across the room.
Because that’s what I did. I ran.
But now, thanks to María José, it seed like Rosa was barreling straight back into my life whether I liked it or not.
Well, she probably has a man with whom she is madly in love with right now. Or... she could have found a mate or sothing, right?
Definitely. She was twenty-five now if I was correct. She wouldn’t want anymore. She’d have forgotten that haunted mont.
Maybe I could still et her and act like nothing happened. Or maybe she could be mad that I never contacted her—never wrote back.
I an, how could I? She should have never confessed her feelings to . No girl ever should. I was not the type to fall in love or like a girl.
I loathed commitnt. Rosa would have definitely moved on. I was safe.
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