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Moonlight Desires

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Faster than an Alpha LUNA I never meant to start my first day at Blackridge University with a full-out sprint, but the bus was late, the campus was huge, and I had exactly seven minutes to make it to athlete orientation before Coach Ramirez, my new coach, who according to the rumors I’ve heard, was strict and unforgiving, marked me down as unreliable. That wasn’t happening, not after everything I’d done to get here. So I ran. My sneakers pounded the sidewalk, duffel bag bouncing against my hip with every stride I took. My lungs pulled in the cool morning air that was sharp and clean, tasting faintly of pine and something else I couldn’t place. My long dark curls whipped across my face, sticking to the sweat already beading on my golden-brown skin, and I shoved them back impatiently. It didn’t matter to me what I looked like. It only mattered that I got there on time. Blackridge was beautiful in a way that made my chest tight, with the old brick buildings that were covered in ivy, wide green lawns, and mountains rising blue and hazy in the distance. It felt like the kind of place where important things happened, and I still couldn’t believe that I actually belonged here. I was on a full scholarship for track and field, which was a fresh start far away from the cramped apartment and the worried lines around Mom’s eyes every time the rent was due. I cut across the main quad, dodging groups of students with backpacks and coffee cups. Some of them turned to stare, probably because I was running like my life depended on it, but I didn’t slow down. The athletic complex was on the far side of campus, and the map on my phone said the fastest route was straight across a massive open field. I hopped a low chain-link fence without breaking stride, and the turf felt perfect under my shoes, springy, and brand-new. The farther I ran, the more the air smelled like fresh-cut grass and something sharper, almost spicy, which was weird, but whatever. I focused on getting to where I needed to be until I noticed the goalposts towering at both ends which made me realize that this was an empty football field. Or so I thought. I was halfway across when voices hit me, deep, loud, and most definitely male. A whole group of guys in black practice jerseys were spread out near the fifty-yard line, stretching, tossing footballs, and laughing like they owned the world. Which, from the size of them, they probably thought they did. I tried to veer left, but one of them, out of nowhere, stepped right into my path, causing me to skid to a stop with my chest heaving. The guy in front of me was tall and tan with dirty-blond hair that fell into sharp gray eyes, and there was also a thin scar cutting through his left eyebrow, giving him a permanent half-smirk. He looked like a bundle of trouble with way too much muscle, and that smirk told me that he knew it. “Lost, track girl?” he asked, his voice low and lazy. “This isn’t your playground.” I was initially confused on how he was able to guess that I was a track athlete until I looked down at the Blackridge University Track team jacket I forgot I had on, and realized that I was basically announcing myself. Behind him, the rest of the team had gone quiet, and I felt every single pair of eyes land on me. There had to be thirty guys out here, but only five of them stood out like they were under spotlights. The one who’d spoken, Ryder, as I had heard someone mutter after he stopped me, folded his arms and waited for me to apologize or back down, like that was ever going to happen, and judging from his teammate's reaction, he was most probably used to intimidating girls with his height, and looks. I straightened up, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’m only just taking a shortcut, buddy. Didn’t realize I needed a hall pass to cross grass.” A couple of low laughs rippled through the group, and Ryder’s smirk widened. “You’re fast. I’ll give you that, but this field belongs to the football team. So maybe stick to the little baby tracks from now on.” Baby tracks. The words lit a fire under me. I’d heard stuff like that my whole life, with people telling me I’m too short, too small, and too female to hang with the serious runners, and every time, I’d shut them up by leaving them in the dust. I looked past Ryder to the end zone which was about eighty yards, maybe ninety, then back at him. “Tell you what,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Race me to the goalpost. If I win, I get to cut across whenever I want, but if you win, I’ll stay on the baby tracks forever.” His eyebrows shot up, and the laughs from the rest of the guys only got louder. From the back of the group, a guy with jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes watched without smiling. He had the vibe of a team captain written all over him, broad shoulders, arms crossed, and a presence that made everyone else shift a little when he moved. Next to him was a blond with sun-bleached curls and a dimpled grin that made him look like he’d just won free tickets to the best show on campus. His green eyes sparkled with so much amusement it was almost embarrassing. A bigger guy who had tattoos covering his thick arms, short dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, muttered something that sounded like “This is dumb,” but I ignored him since my pride was on the line. And then there was the quiet one, who was leaner than the others, and had longish dark brown hair falling over silver-rimmed glasses. His golden eyes never left me, not once, and it was intense in a way that made my skin prickle. Ryder peeled off his practice jersey and tossed it to the grass. His chest and abs were ridiculous, tan and cut like he lived in the weight room his entire life, not that I was staring. Okay, maybe I was staring a little. “You’re on,” he said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. “Ready to eat my dust, track girl?” I dropped my duffel at the curly blond’s feet, and he took it without a word, his dimples deepening. We lined up side by side. Then someone yelled, “Go!” and we took off. The turf flew under me, and the wind roared in my ears. My legs stretched long and powerful, the way they always did when I ran for real. I didn’t look in Ryder’s direction as I never look sideways in a race. I just focused on the white line ahead and let my body do what it knew how to do best. Ten yards in, he was right beside me, strong and fast, definitely way faster than any guy I’d raced before. Twenty yards, and I could hear his breathing, and feel the heat coming off him as he pushed harder, but I’d trained for this. Endless sprints, hill repeats until I wanted to cry, and stairs until my quads burned for days. I found another gear and pulled ahead. Thirty yards… forty, and the gap widened, and I ended up hitting the end zone two full strides before he did. I slowed to a jog, then stopped, hands on my knees, pulling in deep breaths. My heart hammered so hard I felt it in my throat, and when I straightened up, sweat dripping down my back, the entire field was silent. I mean dead silent. Ryder stood a few feet away, bent over, with his hands on his thighs. Sweat darkened his hair, and he looked up at me, gray eyes wide, mouth actually open a little. The cocky smirk was completely gone. No one cheered. No one laughed. The cute captain stepped forward slowly, his gaze locked on me like he was deciding between jumping me, or running away from me, and the others shifted restlessly, some taking half-steps closer without seeming to realize it. The air felt different suddenly, heavy in a way I couldn't properly describe, and the spicy scent I’d picked up earlier but ignored was everywhere now, flooding my lungs, and making my head spin. I immediately knew that it was coming from them. All five of them with the invisible spotlights above their heads. My skin tingled, and my pulse wouldn’t slow down. Ryder straightened up slowly, his voice coming out rough, almost broken. “What… the hell… are you?” I forced a laugh, but it sounded shaky even to me. “A transfer student who just beat you?” He took a step toward me, then another. His pupils were huge and black, swallowing the gray. “No. You’re…” He inhaled sharply, like the air hurt going in. “Omega.” The word dropped into the silence, and a couple of the guys actually growled, low, deep sounds that vibrated in my chest. The captain's jaw clenched so tight I saw the muscle jump, the tattooed one curled his hands into fists, and the quiet one with glasses adjusted them slowly, his golden eyes narrowed behind the lenses. I took a step back. “Okay, that’s… a weird team thing, right? Secret handshake or whatever? Cool, but I’m just gonna…” I pointed toward the far sideline. “Head to orientation.” But they didn’t move. They just stared at me like I was something they’d never seen before, or something they wanted to devour. Maybe even both. The captain finally spoke, his voice was low and controlled, and it sent a shiver straight down my spine. “You just made a very big mistake coming here.” My stomach flipped, but I lifted my chin. I wasn’t about to let some overgrown jocks scare me on day one. “I won fair and square,” I said. “Deal with it.” I stepped around him, grabbed my bag from the curly blond, and started walking. My legs felt heavy, like I was moving through water, and that wild scent clung to my skin, sank into my lungs, and made my head fuzzy in a way I didn’t understand. I didn’t look back, and I couldn’t because I could feel them watching me. Five specific pairs of eyes were burning into my back like they wanted to brand me. By the time I reached the track complex, my heart still hadn’t calmed down. The building was modern with the glass walls, and banners with past championship years. I dropped my bag for a moment and tried to force a smile on my face so it wouldn't be obvious to anyone else that I wasn't having the best morning, but my mind just wouldn’t settle. Why had they looked at me like that? Why did the air suddenly feel different after the race, like a storm was coming, and most importantly, why couldn’t I stop smelling them every time I breathed in? Viral on Day One LUNA Orientation did not go well. I slipped into the track complex five minutes late, breathing a little harder than I’d liked with my curls sticking to my neck like they were out to get me. Coach Ramirez stopped mid-sentence as soon as he noticed me, and stood still with his arms crossed, and his dark eyes narrowing on me like I’d personally insulted him. Everyone else, which was about twenty other scholarship athletes, turned to look in my direction, which was one of my worst nightmares, so I quickly mumbled an apology about the bus being late and took the only empty seat at the back. For the next hour Coach drilled us on rules, schedules, and expectations, and every time his gaze swept the room, it stayed on me a second longer than everyone else. When he handed out the practice calendars, he had practically slapped mine into my hand and muttered, “Don’t be late again, Merrick. We don’t hand out full rides to people who can’t tell time.” Great. First day and I was already on his bad side. Could this day possibly get any worse? By the time we were dismissed, my stomach was in knots. I grabbed my duffel and got out of there fast with my head down, trying to ignore the curious stares from the other runners. I just wanted to find my dorm, unpack my bags that I’d been told were already waiting in my room since I sent them in advance, and after that, I’ll pretend the morning hadn’t happened. Hawthorne Hall was supposed to be a ten-minute walk from the athletic complex, but it felt like thirty. The campus was even bigger than I thought, the paths twisting between old brick buildings and wide lawns. My phone map kept spinning, and every time I thought I had the right dorm, it turned out to be the wrong one. I must have circled the same courtyard twice. Finally I found Hawthorne, a tall red-brick building with ivy crawling up the sides, and I pushed through the front doors, relieved to be out of the sun. The lobby smelled like popcorn and cheap perfume, and just as I was walking past, a group of girls lounging on the couches would look up at me. They stopped talking, and just stared like they had never seen a person before, then one whispered something to her friend, and they both smirked. I kept moving, heading straight to the third floor, room 312. The hallway was loud with doors open, music playing, and girls laughing. Every time I passed an open door or a cluster in the hall, more heads turned, I got more stares, and there was more whispering. I felt like I’d grown a second head or something, and my cheeks burned, but I kept my chin up and walked faster. When I finally found 312, the door was slightly open. I pushed it wider and stopped dead. The room was decently sized, with two beds, two desks, and two closets with sunlight pouring in through a big window. One side was completely bare with white walls, an empty desk, and a neatly made bed. Mine, I guessed. The other side? Total chaos. Posters covered almost every inch of wall space. Shirtless guys with perfect abs and smoldering looks, rock bands, movie stars, and then… wolves. Big, gorgeous photos of wolves running through snow, wolves howling at the moon, and wolves with glowing eyes. One huge poster showed a half-human, half-wolf creature that had ripped muscles, claws, fur along the arms, and a face caught somewhere between man and beast. I stood there staring, duffel still on my shoulder. What the hell was this? The door swung open behind me, and I jumped. A girl with bright red hair piled in a messy bun bounced in, arms full of books and a half-eaten granola bar. She had pale skin, round glasses, and a wide, contagious grin that lit up her whole face the second she saw me. “You must be Luna!” she said, dumping her stuff on her bed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I had film theory and the professor talks forever. I’m Ivy. Ivy Hart. Hi!” She stuck out her hand, and I shifted my bag and shook it awkwardly. “Luna Merrick,” I said. “Yeah, hi.” Ivy glanced around like she was seeing the room for the first time. “Sorry about the mess. I meant to clean up, but I literally ran out the door this morning, but as you can already tell, that side’s all yours.” She pointed to the empty half. “Decorate it however you want. Put up posters of hot athletes or whatever. I bet you’ve got some good ones.” I blinked. “How did you know I’m an athlete?” She laughed, a bright, bubbly sound, and flopped onto her bed. “Girl, you’re famous now. Didn’t you know?” I frowned. “Famous? What are you talking about?” Instead of answering, Ivy dug her phone out of her pocket, scrolled for a second, then turned the screen toward me. My stomach dropped. It was a video, a crystal clear video of me lining up next to Ryder on the football field, me pulling ahead in the race, and me crossing the end zone first. Ryder bent over, hands on his knees, looking stunned, and the camera zoomed in on the team, catching how all of them had frozen, and stared at me like I was a ghost. You could even hear someone whisper “Omega” near the end. The caption read, ‘New girl smokes Ryder Graves on his own field. Who is she’ with a couple of dumb emojis, but it surprisingly had a lot of views. My mouth went dry. “Someone filmed that?” Ivy nodded, her eyes wide. “Multiple someones, actually. It’s all over the school’s socials, and you're, like, viral on your first day. That’s lucky!” “Lucky?” I repeated, my voice flat. “I have zero interest in going viral. Why is the whole school making a big deal out of a stupid race? Don’t they have anything better to do?” Ivy stared at me like I’d just said the sky was green. “Do you seriously not know who you raced?” “Some cocky football guy?” I shot back, letting her know that I was definitely not impressed just because I happened to race some hot guy. “Ryder Graves,” she said slowly, like I was missing something huge. “Star running back, and one of the gods of Blackridge University. He and his friends, Jace Callahan, Knox Wilder, Theo Vale, and Orion Dusk, are basically untouchable. Think gorgeous insane athletes that come from incredibly rich families, basically the whole package. Girls throw themselves at them, guys want to be them, and they never, ever pay attention to anyone new, especially not a transfer girl. But you, my dear, didn’t just beat Ryder, you got all five of them staring at you like you hung the moon.” I snorted. “Sounds like high school.” Ivy laughed again. “Pretty much, but on steroids.” I turned away, unzipping my duffel and starting to unpack my other things just to have something to do with my hands. T-shirts, running gear, and a couple framed photos of me and Mom. I set them on the empty desk carefully. Famous, viral, and attention. Exactly what I didn’t want, especially if it had nothing to do with my incredible ability as an athlete. I’d come here to run, study, graduate, and disappear into a normal life, not become campus gossip because I beat some jock in a sprint. The rest of the afternoon passed by with me unpacking and attempting to multitask by making small talk with Ivy who talked a lot, like, a lot. She was easy to listen to, though, as well as funny, and having zero filter. She told me about her film major, her obsession with werewolf lore (which explained the posters), and how Blackridge had all these old legends about wolves in the mountains. I nodded along, half-listening, still mad about the video. By early evening, my side of the room looked less empty with my bed made, clothes hung up, and running shoes lined under the desk. Ivy had dragged me to the dining hall for burgers, where even more people stared and were very clearly gossiping about me, and it got so bad that I had to keep my head down and eat fast. Back in the room, I changed into sweats and crawled onto my bed, planning to scroll on my phone for a bit and then crash early since I was still feeling jet lag from the bus ride and all the running had me wiped. That’s when my phone vibrated, showing that I had a message from an unknown number. Reluctantly, I opened the message. ‘Come outside. We’re waiting.’ I stared at the screen, wondering who the hell it was, but before I could ask, another text came. ‘It’s Ryder. The guy you were lucky to outrun earlier. Me and the guys are downstairs, and you’ve got five minutes or we come up and get you ourselves.’ My heart slammed against my ribs, and I stared at the message for a full minute, wondering to myself if I had started seeing things. How did he have my number? Just how many of them did he mean when he said “the guys”? And why did they want me outside? I sat up slowly, glancing at Ivy. She was at her desk with her headphones on, typing something on her laptop. She hadn’t noticed. I looked out the window, and even though I was on the third floor, the parking lot was visible between buildings, and from here I could make out five tall figures leaning against a black SUV under the streetlight. It was a little too far to see their faces clearly, but something about the way they stood, looking all calm and dangerous, made my skin prickle. Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my phone vibrated again. ‘Clock’s ticking, track girl.’ I swallowed hard. Part of me wanted to ignore it, lock the door, pretend I was asleep, and let them get bored until they eventually decided to leave, but another part, the competitive part that never backed down from a challenge, was already sliding off the bed and pulling on my sneakers. I didn’t know what they wanted, or why my stomach flipped at the thought of seeing them again, but I wasn’t about to let them think they could scare me. I grabbed my jacket, told Ivy I was stepping out for some air, and headed for the door. Like Wild Animals LUNA I pushed through the dorm doors and stepped into the parking lot, the cool night air hitting my face in the best way possible. My sneakers crunched on loose gravel as I scanned the lot, and there they were. Five tall figures leaning against a sleek black SUV that was parked under the farthest light, and even from this distance, I picked out Ryder right away with his dirty-blond hair catching the light, his arms crossed, and that same cocky stance from the field this morning. The others were also standing close and talking in low voices, but I couldn’t make out faces yet, just their tall, broad shapes that took up too much space. The second I spotted them, something weird happened to me. I felt a pull right in the center of my chest like an invisible string aggressively pulled me forward and then snapped tight. My feet stopped moving without me telling them to, and I just stood there, frozen on the edge of the sidewalk, and staring. And then the smell hit me. That same spicy scent from earlier, woodsmoke, pine, and something dark and wild, rolled across the parking lot even though there were still twenty, maybe thirty feet between us, and it flooded my lungs, wrapped around me, and sank straight into my skin. My body answered in a way I didn’t understand, and heat bloomed under my ribs, spread down my arms, and pooled low in my stomach. My cheeks burned all of a sudden, and my heartbeat kicked hard, like I’d just finished a sprint. What the hell? I shook my head hard, my curls bouncing against my shoulders. Get it together, Luna. They’re just guys, arrogant, annoying guys who think they own the school. I forced my feet to move again, frowning so deep it probably looked permanent, and as I got closer, all five of them straightened up at the same time. Their heads turned toward me like they’d been waiting for this exact moment, and then, just like they had this morning, they froze, going completely still with their eyes locked on me and their mouths half-open like they were seeing me for the first time all over again. I stopped a few feet away, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets to hide that they were shaking a little. I opened my mouth to demand what gave them the right to text me like that, and how the hell they even got my number, but before a single word came out, they moved. All five of them. They stepped forward at once, closing the distance fast, and then… with no warning at all, they started sniffing me, actually sniffing like a bunch of dogs with their heads tilting, and noses flaring as they leaned in close like they were trying to catch every bit of scent coming off my skin, my hair, and my clothes. One circled halfway behind me, and another dipped his head near my neck, and the spicy smell was everywhere now, so thick I could almost taste it. My body got hotter, the warmth turning into an ache I didn’t understand, and my knees felt weak. I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs. “What the are you doing?” I hissed, my voice coming out louder than I meant, sharp and appalled. “Why are you acting like wild animals?” They stopped, but only barely. They were still too close for my liking and still breathing hard with their eyes darker than before, their pupils huge. The one with the jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes, who was standing closest to me was the one I expected to speak up and say something to make sense of their animalistic behavior, but he didn't say anything. Instead, the guy with the tattoos covering his thick arms, short dark hair, and blue eyes that looked ready to burn holes in something did the talking first. “She doesn’t know,” he blurted out, staring at the others like this was the worst news possible. I blinked at him, then at the rest of them. “Doesn’t know what? Are you guys on drugs or something?” I looked around the circle, my voice rising. “You realize athletes doing drugs is illegal, right? Like, career-ending illegal?” The captain-looking one, with black hair and broad shoulders, the same guy who’d warned me off the field this morning, finally spoke. His voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made my skin prickle. “What the hell are you?” he questioned. I stared back at him in complete disbelief, then I looked around the empty parking lot like someone might pop out with a hidden camera, and tell me that this was all some kind of elaborate prank. When no one did, I turned back to them. “Pretty sure I’m the one who gets to ask that question,” I said. “If you’re trying to get back at me for beating your friend in one stupid race, you’re a lot more pathetic than you look, and I’m honestly disappointed. I thought Blackridge was supposed to be prestigious, not a daycare for losers with fragile egos.” There was dead silence, and for a second, nobody moved. I could hear my own breathing, harsh and fast, and I could hear theirs too, deeper, and rougher. Then the quiet one spoke up, the one with longish dark brown hair falling over silver glasses, and eyes that seemed to see way too much. “We know we look weird right now,” he said calmly, like he was trying to smooth everything over. “But we had to check something.” I wanted to scream, actually scream, but the last thing I needed on my first day was more attention, more videos, more gossiping, and more viral . So I swallowed it down and glared at him instead. “Check what?” I asked through clenched teeth. “What could you possibly need to check that involves sniffing me like a bunch of dogs?” Ryder snarled, actually snarled, his lips pulling back a little, and a low growl rumbling in his chest. “We’re not dogs,” he hissed. “Don’t talk to us like that.” I scoffed, my anger overriding whatever weird heat was still vibrating under my skin. “You sure act like it. Look, just because you have nothing better to do with your time than play creepy games doesn’t mean I have to stand here and put up with it. If that’s all the idiotic stuff you’ve got to say, I’m leaving.” I turned on my heel, ready to march straight back to the dorm and lock the door behind me. I was not only angry at them for wasting my time, I was also angry at myself for coming down here in the first place. What was I thinking? That I’d prove something? That they’d apologize? Stupid. I made it three steps. “Wait…” one of them started, and behind me, Ryder’s voice rang out, loud and cocky again. “You’ll be seeing us a lot,” he said, and I could almost picture the smug look on his face. “So get ready for it, track girl.” Despite my urge to tell him to go himself, I didn’t turn around, didn’t slow down, and didn’t answer, but something inside me, something deep and confusing, wanted to. My chest still felt tight, that strange pull tugging at me like it didn’t want me to leave, and the spicy scent clung to my jacket, my hair, and even my skin. My body stayed hot the whole walk back with my cheeks burning, and my heart refusing to slow down. I shoved through the dorm doors, nodded vaguely at the girl at the front desk who stared again, and took the stairs two at a time because the elevator felt too slow, and by the time I got back to my room, my hands were shaking for real. Ivy looked up from her laptop, her headphones around her neck. “Whoa, you okay? You look like you just ran a mile.” “Fine,” I muttered, kicking off my sneakers and collapsing on my bed. “I just… needed air.” She gave me a look like she didn’t believe me, but thankfully went back to her screen, while I stared at the ceiling with my arms over my face. What the hell had just happened? They sniffed me, actually sniffed me, called me a weird name earlier this morning, and have been acting like I was some kind of puzzle they had to solve, and the worst part, the part I hated admitting even to myself, was how my body reacted. That heat, that pull, and the way their scent made everything inside me feel alive in a way I’d never felt before. I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket over my head like that could block it all out. Tomorrow I’d avoid them, stay on the track side of campus, keep my head down as planned, and focus on running, classes and nothing else. They were just a bunch of entitled football players with too much ego and not enough sense. That’s all. But even as I told myself that over and over, I could still smell them, and some stupid, buried part of me didn’t hate it. Just Another Day LUNA I woke up to my phone alarm going off way too early. The room was still kind of dark, with just a little gray light coming through the curtains, and my head felt thick and fuzzy, like I had barely slept. For a split second, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, and that was when it all came rushing back, the race on the field, the video going around, Ivy showing me how everyone was talking about it, and then last night in the parking lot. Those five guys that acted like total freaks, sniffing me, asking weird questions, and making my body feel things I didn’t understand. My cheeks got hot again just remembering it. ‘No, Luna. Let's stop thinking about it.’ I squeezed my eyes shut tight and told myself to forget everything from yesterday. All of it. I need to forget the dumb jocks and their stupid games, and I should also forget how I somehow drew all this attention to myself because of them. I came to Blackridge to run track, get good grades, and keep my head down. That was it, meaning no drama, and no boys, especially not those boys. Today was going to be different and normal, and I was going to pretend none of that happened, and start my day on a clean slate. I rolled out of bed as quietly as I could. Ivy was still fast asleep on her side of the room with her mouth a little open, and her red hair was everywhere like a wild mess on her pillow. She also had one of her arms hanging off the bed, and looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake her. I grabbed my toiletries bag from the desk, toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Then my towel from the hook on the closet door and a clean set of clothes for after, which consisted of a sports bra, running shorts, a tank top, and socks. Everything I needed for morning practice. As I zipped up my bag, I made a promise to myself. From today on, I was staying far away from that football field like it was the plague. No matter how late I was, no matter how much I needed a shortcut, I would go the long way around campus. I wasn’t giving those guys another chance to show up and act crazy. I slipped on my flip-flops, grabbed my key, and headed out the door. The hallway was quiet, most doors still closed. A few girls were up, but not many, and the shared bathroom was at the end of the hall, past the stairs. I pushed the door open, and warm steam hit me right away. Someone had definitely just showered because the air was thick and humid, and the mirrors were all fogged up. There were four or five girls already in there, with one wrapping her hair in a towel, two brushing teeth at the sinks, and another fixing makeup even though it was barely seven a.m. The second I walked in, it got quiet. They all turned to look at me and just stared with wide eyes and little smiles on their faces that weren’t really smiles. One girl whispered something to her friend, and they both glanced at me again. It was exactly like yesterday in the halls, like I had grown an extra head or painted my face blue or something. I knew why, of course. I knew that I could only blame that stupid video from the field. By now it had probably spread to everyone in the dorm, maybe the whole school. ‘New girl beats football star and makes the whole team look dumb.’ Great way to start the year, Luna. I ignored them, kept my face blank, and walked to an empty sink near the end. Then I set my bag down on the counter with a soft thump, proceeded to pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste, and started brushing like I didn’t notice a thing. Inside, I was groaning. I wished so bad that my scholarship came with a private room, or at least one with its own bathroom, not this shared one where I had to deal with a bunch of girls who already seemed to hate me before I even opened my mouth. It made everything feel harder and made me feel like I was going to be on display every morning until the next best gossip came around. I focused on the mirror. My curls were a mess from sleeping, frizzy from the steam already, my golden-brown skin looked a little tired, and my hazel eyes were still sleepy. I brushed harder, counting in my head. Just get this done, rinse in a few minutes, shower, and then get out. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes max. After, I’ll head straight to the dining hall for a quick breakfast, then training. I thought the worst part would be the staring and them whispering while I brushed my teeth. The thought of it was annoying as hell, but I could live with it. I was good at blocking stuff out. Then I heard footsteps behind me, soft, and most definitely coming straight my way. I looked behind me in the mirror, and a tall blonde girl was already walking up to me. She was really pretty with long straight hair that looked like it took forever to blow-dry, blue eyes, and perfect skin. She had on a pink robe that looked expensive, tied tight around her waist, and walked like she owned the place, shoulders back, and head high. In my head, I hoped she just wanted something normal, like, “Hey, how do you get your curls so nice this early?” or “Do you have an extra hair tie?” Anything simple, and anything that didn’t have to do with football or those dumb boys I wanted zero part of. She stopped right next to me, leaned one hip against the counter, and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re the new girl, right?” I kept brushing, looked at her reflection, and tried not to sound rude or sarcastic with my response. “Is it that obvious?” She let out a little laugh, but it sounded forced. “I’m Brittany. Brittany Evans, Captain of the cheer squad for the football team.” Of course she was. Just my shitty luck. I almost rolled my eyes right there, but I stopped myself. I just wanted this over fast so I could finish and get out. “Congratulations,” I said, but my voice came out flat, like I didn’t care, which I honestly didn’t. Her smile faded quickly, and she stood up straighter and crossed her arms over her robe. “That’s all you have to say?” she asked. I spat toothpaste into the sink and turned on the water to rinse my brush. “What else should I say?” She made a huff sound. “I was nice enough to come over here and introduce myself. The least you could do is tell me your name.” I sighed, but it came out loud and tired. “Luna Merrick,” I said, keeping my response short. I dried my hands on my towel, started putting my toothbrush and toothpaste back in the bag, and zipped it up slowly. She watched me the whole time, and her lips got thinner, like she was mad. Then she just blurted it out. “I hope you don’t think that just because you got lucky and got involved with the football team yesterday, you’re suddenly best friends with them or something.” I stopped moving immediately. My hand was still on the shampoo bottle when I turned slowly and looked at her for real this time, and my face must have shown everything I felt, which was nothing short of pure disgust. “Why in the world would I think that?” She blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it like she didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t wait. I kept talking, my voice low but clear. “Look, I have to take a shower now and get to training, but if you’re worried about me being interested in those dumb jocks, you can relax because I couldn’t care less about them, not even a little bit.” I picked up my bag, my towel, and my clean clothes, walked right past her without looking back, headed to one of the empty shower stalls at the end, and pulled the plastic curtain shut behind me with a sharp snap. I stood there for a second, breathing hard as my heart was going fast again. Had I made it better or worse? I told her straight up I wasn’t interested, so that should calm her down, right? Put out whatever fire she had going. I hoped so, because the last thing I needed was more people thinking I wanted anything to do with those guys. I hung my towel on the hook, set my clothes on the little bench, turned on the water, and waited for it to get hot. Steam started filling the stall, and I stepped under the spray and let it run over me. For a few minutes, it felt good, like it could wash away all the weird stuff from yesterday, but even as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)

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Prologue Broken promises ache as badly as hunger. Humiliation stings like getting lemon juice in a paper cut. This goes beyond that. This betrayal goes beyond the lies and expectations of what we are and what we've been raised to believe. It goes against everything that makes us what we are. No matter our rank. I watch from the terrace of the apartment I got for my mate and me when he returned from his alpha training last year. I had been so excited to see him after we spent our senior year apart. I gave up going to my dream school to stay here with him. Santiago Romano held me in his arms, sold me pretty lies, and loved me the way he had promised before leaving. A part of me knew that I would be discarded after the full moon fell on my sixteenth birthday, and I didn't shift. I spent days avoiding him, trying to deny that someone from a Beta bloodline as strong as mine would be reduced to nothing but a lowly omega. Everything had been perfect before that. We had met the day we both started at Artume Academy—two years after one of the cruellest rogue attacks in werewolf history. There were six hundred and eighty-seven casualties that night. I barely survived. I shouldn't have, but I did. I've never wished to have died there more than I wish it now. My goddess-given mate has chosen his Luna. It's being televised for the world to see that I wasn't anywhere near enough to stand beside him. His parents hand-picked his Luna to carry his name, his legacy, and his heirs. Poppy Turner is wearing my dream dress with a huge smile plastered on her face. Her arm is looped through my mate's, and the two of them look like the perfect match as they walk into the moon goddess temple for their official mating ceremony. I turn the TV off and look down at my phone to see the message he sent me just before arriving at the temple. Three little words that don't mean shit to me anymore. This is for the pack, he said. You'll be better protected. You can now study to be a surgeon without the responsibilities of a Luna. I'll never leave you. You're the one I love—my true mate. Lies. The sick part is that there's a part of me that would accept this. I'd be his mistress, watching him build that life that should be ours with her. There's a darker side that looks back to the night of the attack. The night I saved her from the rogues, while my family was fighting. While they were dying. I should have left her there to be torn apart. I want to leave here. Run away and never look back. I have the means for it. All I'd have to do is call my grandmother to tell her I've had enough. She'd come for me in an instant. I know she would. But it wouldn't solve anything, and I'd be leaving everything I've worked so hard to obtain behind. There are three months left until the end of the semester. I'd lose all my credits, and my GPA would drop if I left now. It's all I have left. This career is the only thing that is going to keep me going for a while because this wound, like the loss of my family, it's going to take some time to heal. I spend the rest of my night reviewing my notes for my upcoming exam. It's almost eight when my phone rings. I reach for it to see my Grandmother's name and a picture of the two of us at my graduation last year. "Hey, GG," I answer. "Don't hey, GG, me young lady," she says in her thick Swedish accent. "What is the meaning of this, Sophia?" "I don't know," I answer honestly. "Did he reject you properly?" she demands. "No, he doesn't want to. He said that she'd be his Luna only in name." "I want you to come live with me, Sophia. You need not be where you are not welcome. Why haven't you called to let me know what's happening? I would have sent for you immediately," her tone is urgent. "Because you were on business for the King. I didn't want to bother you with something so trivial," I shut my laptop and close my notebook. "Trivial? My love, this is not something to be taken lightly. You are in pain. It will get worse once you reject him. It'll feel like a part of your soul is being torn away." "Please, don't make me feel worse than I already do," I sigh. "I can't just gather my things to leave. I have school and work. I'm not just his discarded mate. I'm more than just a floormat. This is why I didn't call you: I knew you'd want to come here immediately, and I don't want to lose myself over this. Leaving is a last resort." "Leaving?" I look up to see Santiago standing in the doorway of my home office, still dressed in his ceremonial suit. "GG, I have to go." I look away. "I love you." "Sophia-" I hang up before she can say anything else. "What do you mean you're leaving as a last resort?" he storms into the room and pulls my chair away from the desk to make me look up at him. I don't meet his gaze. "I told you that she means nothing to me. You're my mate. You're not going anywhere." I don't answer him. I push him away when her scent hits me. It's all over him. "I don't want you here right now. You're tainting my space with her scent. I can barely stand to look at you," I say calmly. "You're being so fucking dramatic, right now. I didn't have a choice, Soph. I'm not doing this to hurt you. I came home to you. You're my mate. You're the one I'm in love with. This is for our pack. You're turning your back on me to hurt me. You're acting as if I were the one at fault here," he growls. I cry out when he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. "You're not leaving me. There is not a single fucking place in this world you can go where I won't find you. "You run, and you're only going to be making things worse for me," he grips both my arms with too much force. "You're hurting me," I try to pull away. He shoves me hard. Stumble back, hitting my head on the doorknob. The sting blinds me for a moment, but I don't have enough time to process it. "Look what you made me do," he says, dropping to the floor beside me. His hand presses on the spot I just banged against the doorknob. "Soph, I didn't mean to. I panicked." "Get away from me," I manage to cry out. His hand tightens around my throat. "You're not leaving me," he pulls me into him. His eyes are bright red, and his canines are out. "Say it. Say you're going to stay, Sophia." He leans into me, and for a second, my heart races when his teeth graze the curve where my neck and shoulder meet. The place he's told me wants to mark me. But he pulls away to cup my face to make sure I'm looking back at him. I've been in love with this boy since the first time I set eyes on him when I was fourteen years old. I thought I knew him. All of him. But the person in front of me is not the man I thought he was becoming. I don't recognise him at all. All I can do is stare back at him, fear and disbelief in my eyes. "Say it!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, making me jump. "I'm going to stay," I choke out. The lie tastes rancid on my tongue. "You can't leave," his wolf retreats, and I stare at his baby blue eyes as they fill with tears. "You can't leave me. I need you. I need you, Sophia. And you need me. Only I can protect you. You're mine." 1 Everyone is staring at me when I walk into my office after my classes are done. I can feel their gazes on my skin as I hurry over to the elevator. When I get to the maternity floor, I rush into the locker room to get ready for my shift. "Soph?" I look back at my best friend, Poppy's half sister. She's the last person I want to see right now, but there's not much I can do about it since we have the same shift. "Hey, Lieza," I greet her. The pitiful expression on her face hurts. "Don't." "This is awkward," she says, scratching the back of her ear nervously. "But the alpha sent roses." "What?" I ask, confused. I locked myself in the home office and slept on my giant bean bag last night. When I woke up, he was gone. He slept in the apartment. The bed had been undone, and his suit was on the floor, where he took it off, expecting me to clean it up. I would have left it there if I didn't hate having a messy room. I threw it away on my way out of the building. I finish putting my things away and follow her out. On the reception desk are five massive bouquets of roses and sunflowers. The nurses are all cooing over them. "Here, they came with this," Lieza says, holding up a hot-pink envelope. He wrote my name on it by hand. "These are so beautiful," Layla, one of the ultrasound techs, smiles at me. "You guys can have them," I say, going over to my computer. "I don't care for flowers." "They were a gift from your mate," Kennedy reminds me. "I don't have a mate," I say. Putting it out there hits me hard like getting mauled by a rogue after having watched it tear my brother to pieces seconds before. They don't say anything, but they understand, and the flowers disappear. I go about my day as usual, then head home after my shift. His car is here when I arrive. I don't park; I head back out right away. I need some time away from him—time to piece together my thoughts. Artume General Hospital is located near the main strip, where tourists frequently gather. The restaurants and stores are all open late. I have dinner at my favorite Korean BBQ spot and keep to myself, not wanting to draw any attention. As I have my dinner, I can't help but think about the night I found out I wasn't worthy of having a wolf. It was a night a lot like this one. My grandmother was sitting behind me in our backyard as the sun came up. It marked the night of the full moon in my birth month, and nothing happened. I didn't feel any different, and I didn't hear the sound of my wolf's spirit. "It could be late because of the trauma from the attack," she said, crouching down in front of me. I couldn't bring myself to look up at her. "Go back to school on Monday, and we'll meet again next month. I'll book an appointment for you later today. Go to bed." There's never been an omega in my bloodline. Ever. It was why the Helvigs were accepted into the city ranking system. My father had made a name for himself before he met my mother, who is from here. My grandmother encouraged him to relocate so he would have better opportunities. My body was shaking. All I could think was, what am I going to say to Santiago? How will his family react to me being what I am? They don't have to say it for me to know what was happening. I knew what was happening. I have been deemed an unworthy vessel. My phone pinged as if my thoughts summoned him. His name and our picture pop up on the screen with the voice memo. "I'm looking forward to seeing you on Monday. I love you." There is a tiny chance that my wolf is late because of the surgeries I had after the attack. I was twelve. That was almost seven years ago. I couldn't bring myself to open the following message, let alone reply. I dry my hair and curl up under the blankets. Sleep didn't come, but after a few hours, my grandmother came in to tell me that I have an appointment to get checked out. I got dressed, and we headed over to the clinic. I'm sure she's paid the doctor and the staff to keep all of this quiet. "Hey, Sophie," Dr. Valkrie greeted me the way she used to when I first met her. We all thought I was going to die then, and being an omega in my family has felt just like that. "Hey," I greeted her quietly. "Okay," she took a deep breath and smiled. She glanced over at my Grandmother, and it's all it took for her to leave the two of us alone. "There are a lot of reasons why your wolf is a little late. Have you been stressed lately? Anything you want to tell me before I start probing?" "A little," I nodded. "I found my mate, or rather, he found me." "Congratulations," she smiled. "Why would this be stressful for you? This is a good thing." "He's the next alpha of the city," I whisper. She tensed up, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I had been thinking about it all night. Alpha and Luna Romano are not going to like that. Luna Romano is Alpha Romano's chosen mate. No one really knows what happened to their true mates or if they ever had one at all. Dr. Valkrie leans forward to hug me. She sniffs me and then sits back. "You've mated with him," she states knowingly. I nod. "We can start there, but I have to be honest with you. If being with your mate doesn't bring her out, the possibility that you are an omega is high. It can be due to all the damage that was done in the attack-" "That's not what I want to hear," I cried. "I know. I know, Soph. The only way that this can move forward is probably if he marks you, but even then, the chances of the wolf you turn into being a higher rank are low. You have to drop combat training. "You have to tell him because if you lie, it's going to look very bad on you. I'm going to take some blood samples to ensure everything is okay. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. Okay?" I couldn't answer her. I swallow the knot in my throat and let her take the blood sample. I spent the rest of my weekend alone in my room. "Come down," my grandmother ordered on Sunday afternoon. She has her luggage ready, which means she'll be going back to Blackstone—lycan domain. "Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said. She let out a heavy sigh and tilted my head up. "You survived one of the most gruesome attacks in our history, little one. You gave up a part of you to ensure that justice was served to avenge your family. Don't let anyone take that from you. Do you understand?" "Yes," I choked out, but I didn't believe it. "Come," she opened the door that led into the garage. I walk in with her. Inside is a cobalt blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible. "You mother had this arranged from the moment she found out she was having a girl. "Helvig women are rare. Unfortunately, it has always been the men who have taken the glory in our bloodline. So, we were very excited when you were born. Finally, a little girl we can all dote on. Take care of it. Yes?" "Thank you," I nodded and wrapped my arms around her. Grandma has always had an icy aura about her. I was under the impression that she hated my mother and me. Perhaps it's not hate, but the lingering coldness of having to serve under the Lycan King. Grandma Zaraphine is about four or five inches shorter than I am. Her hair is black, highlighted by the grays and whites growing out. She doesn't look old, but her eyes give away her age. She's always been very elegant and refined. I wanted to be just like her. It was why I gave up on the medical program and joined the combat team at the start of my training. I started to cry again, and for the first time, she tightened her hold on me. I don't know how long we stayed this way, but when she finally pulled away, she wiped away my tears. She stared at me for a bit before letting me go. "Things will change for you, Little one. Drastically. If you need me to pick you up, call me. Do not hesitate. Do you understand? You are still a Helvig, and I will not allow you to be disrespected in any way. If I am unable to come personally, I will send someone on my behalf. Okay?" "Okay," I nodded. "I must be going. Try to keep this to yourself for as long as you can." "I can't," I inform her. "Why not?" "Santiago is my mate," I confessed. She inhaled deeply and pulled me into her again. "You call me immediately if you need me, Sophia. Do you understand?" "Yes," "I must go. I promised my general I'd be back before sundown. My heart stays here with you, Granddaughter. As always." "Be safe," I nod. I unlocked the car and climbed inside. It smelled brand new. Like that night, I sit here not knowing what to do. I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I don't have the energy to reach for it. I shut my eyes, needing a moment of peace. Anything to get my head out of the thoughts attacking the very essence of my soul. I am unworthy. There was no wolf spirit for me and no mate. 2 The smell of freshly made food greets me when I arrive at my apartment. I walk in to find Luna Romano in my kitchen and Santiago setting up the table. I look between the two of them, knowing that they're going to ambush me over what happened last night. I didn't think that my mate was a little bitch boy that needed his mommy to fix his life for him, but then again, he ended up marrying the woman she picked for him. "Sophia," she beams with way too much enthusiasm for my liking. "It's a little late for you to be out and about on your own, isn't it?" I stare at her, not knowing how to answer that. How dare she come into my home and say anything against me? She has no right, not even as the Luna of the City. I hold my tongue this once because, despite the shit show she's turned my life into, I once respected this woman almost the same way I respected my own mother. I kick my shoes off, and I head to my room. "Dinner will be ready in a bit," Santiago blocks me. "I already had dinner, thank you," I say, rolling my eyes and trying to get past him. He grips my arm in the same spot he had last night, pressing his fingers into the bruises I already have. I try to pull my arm out of his grip, but he only tightens it. I look up at him, wishing I had the strength to hurt him back with my entire existence. "Get cleaned up for dinner, Baby. My mom made us dinner. Take this off," he says sternly, motioning my scrubs. The two of us stare at one another for a long time before he releases me. I glance back at his mother to see her smiling proudly at his actions. She doesn't meet my gaze, and I don't argue. I rush into my bathroom as my heart beats faster than it ever has. I reach for my phone immediately and turn on the water. "I've been so worried about you," my Grandmother answers right away. "GG, Luna Romano is here," I try my best not to cry. "I don't feel safe." "All right," she says calmly. "Just do as you're told, I'm on my way." "Hurry," I try to calm myself. "Sophie," I almost jump out of my skin when Santiago bangs on the door. "I can at least have a moment to shower, can't I?" I call back and stuff my phone between the towels beside me. The door swings open, and I back away as he storms towards me. He's pissed. His eyes are dark, and the veins on his forehead are visible. "What did you just say to me?" he demands. "I just got off work. I want to take a shower. You don't need to be here for that," I hold his gaze. I know that he'll get suspicious if I become complacent. I've never been one to keep my thoughts to myself. His expression softens, and he reaches for a strand of my hair. "Shit, I'm sorry," he says, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me to sit on the sink. This isn't the first time he's done this, but it is the first time I feel repulsed by it. It's killing me, but I'm repulsed by the man I thought was everything to me. He reaches for the hem of my scrubs and pulls the top over my head. I'm trapped, and he doesn't see that this is wrong or that I don't want him touching me. I stay still, not knowing what to do. "I'm sorry," he leans into me. He buries his hand in my hair to pull my head back enough, so I'm looking up at him. "I keep fucking this up," He brushes his lips to mine, weaponizing our bond against me. My body reacts to his because of it. Tears slip from my eyes as he kisses me. He catches one on his tongue and lifts me enough to reach between us to get my scrubs off. "Please," I cry, not wanting to do this. "I don't-" "It's okay," he wraps my legs around his waist and covers my mouth to keep me from making a sound. "Stop," I mumble into his hand, trying to push him off me. His lips crash against mine, and he reaches between us. My omega traits are alive and well. He takes my reaction to our bond as an opening. Panic starts to set in because no matter what I do or say, he's not going to stop. It's in this moment that I realize too late that maybe I was never a person to him. Just an object no better than the shiny car his parents got him for his birthday this year. "It's only you, Soph," he mumbles into my mouth. "You're the only one I want." My mind blanks when he enters me. My body screams in protest, but he doesn't stop, and he's taking my struggling as fuel to get rougher. He presses his hand over my mouth again to keep him silent. "You're mine, Sophia," he repeats over and over until he's finished. I sit here for a while once he's done processing what just happened. When he knocks again, it's gently this time as if everything that's happened is now behind us. I didn't answer, but I ended up taking a quick shower mindlessly. He's not going to leave me alone. This woman is only going to make this a whole lot harder. She's standing in front of the dining table, her hands folded neatly over her belly. The smile on her face is one I'm all too familiar with. Before now, I used to take solace in it. Luna Romano has been like a mother to me since my mother passed. She would tell anyone who would listen that I, Sophia Helvig, was her only son's fated mate. Things changed when Santiago told them that I was an omega. They sent him away, and I was no longer invited to Sunday dinners in the main house. I was no longer a part of their family. If I'm such a disgrace on her family's bloodline, then why the hell does she want me here? I could just leave when the semester is over. I wouldn't make a fuss, and I wouldn't ask for a single thing in return. No one in their right mind would allow this humiliation, even if I am simply a lowly omega. "Why don't you come take a seat, Sophia?" She takes a step to her right and pulls out the chair to Santiago's left. She looks down at the chair and then at me. The action is almost threatening. "I think we need to have a serious talk." 3 Santiago is sitting there without meeting my gaze. I cautiously go around the table to sit where Luna Romano wants me to sit. I stay still as she reaches over me for the bread knife. I sit back as she cuts the freshly made loaf of bread in front of me. She places a slice on my plate and then another on his. I watch her hands as she moves to put other things on our plates, never setting the knife down. She walks around the table and sets it down beside her plate. "I understand that you are having some trouble with the new arrangement," she says as she takes a fork off the table. "I don't have to remind you that you are Santiago's mate." "No, you don't, and I don't think it's any of your business," I answer honestly—the two of us jump when Santiago slams his hand on the table. "Don't talk to my mother like that, Sophia," he growls. "It's alright, son," she says and continues to eat as if nothing were out of place. "Sophia, you shouldn't be making this harder than it has to be. You are Santiago's mate, and that comes with certain responsibilities." "No, it doesn't. You legally found a replacement for these so-called responsibilities-" "Of course, I did," she stops me. "Do you think you, an omega. A wolfless girl who is practically mortal could ever hold a candle to what a beta-ranked female can?" "I can do everything the beta-ranked female you chose and better. I have proven that over and over. In training and my studies. She wouldn't be able to hold the highest credentials in medicine, the way I can run circles around her studies in pack economics. The comparison isn't fair if you're basing this on genetics." "Is that what this is?" she laughs humorlessly. "You're jealous of Poppy?" "Poppy has nothing I need to be jealous about," I sneer. "Except you do. She is the new Luna of the City, whether you like it or not," she says flatly. "Do you know how many Lunas die a year because other alphas or rogues target them. You know, the very same rogues who took your family from us. You will never be in any danger with Luna Romano taking the lead." I stare at her, letting what she just said sink in. She just called Poppy Luna Romano. My hand twitches over the fork beside my plate. It would be so easy for me to get over this table with it to show her exactly what this little omega can do. I may be the lowest rank of my kind, but I was raised like one of them. My grandmother would rather kill me than let me walk around unable to protect myself. As one of the Lycan King's most trusted Major Generals, my training started long before theirs did. I was raised to be a soldier, and it was only by fate that I am now a healer. "Mom," Santiago says gently. "I think you should leave." "Excuse me?" she laughs, looking over at him. "I think you should go so that I can talk to Sophia alone," he adds. "You brought me here," she reminds him. "I know, and she knows how serious this is now. Get out," he growls. The two of them face off for a moment before she nods and stands up to leave. Neither of us moves as she gathers her belongings. She kisses the side of his head. He knows exactly what I would do to his mother, even though she outranks me. I'd spend the rest of my life in a prison cell here, and I wouldn't regret it. "I suggest you understand your position and soon, Sophia," she says, pausing at the end of the table. "We want to move forward doing things pleasantly. You can be a part of this family the easy way, or you can be a part of this family the hard way. The choice is up to you, but leaving is not an option." "Go," Santiago growls at her again. I sit here waiting for the weight of her words to break the silence between us. He expects me to stay here while he parades his chosen around for all to see simply because I'm an omega. Tears fill my eyes as the realization hits me like a slap across the face. They're all going to make my life a living hell, and he expects me to take it. "You swore you'd never let anything hurt me when I told you I didn't shift," I whisper. "I would never let anything hurt you, Sophia. You know that I would do anything for you." "Except this, right? You'd never stand up to your mother for us even if it killed me," I stand up. "She made us dinner, Sophia. The least you can do is try it," he says calmly. I suck in the mucus in my nose from crying and hack it up into my mouth before spitting it on the food she made for us. He stares at me in disbelief. I've never done anything so ill-mannered before. My grandmother would have never let me hear the end of it, but I think this is an exception she might be willing to overlook. "That's what I think about your mother's food, Santiago." I kiss him on the opposite side of his head. "It's going to take some time for us to get used to this. Sophie," he continues. "I'd reject you now if I thought you'd accept it. But I'm looking forward to doing everything in my power to make you do it. By the time this is over, you're going to hate me with every ounce of your soul the way I do you now." He reacts this time. His hand lashes out and grabs my wrist. He spins me around, pulling me into him hard. My chest smacks against his, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. "You hate me?" he laughs and pushes against me until my back hits the wall. My body is trembling, and I can't bring myself to look up at him because if he looks into my eyes, he'll know I'm lying. I want to hate him. I should. But our world is on fire. The flames are closing in around us, with nowhere to run. He did this. He did this to us, and instead of letting me go so that he may do his so-called duty, he wants me to stick around to watch him destroy everything we could have built together. "Reject me. Please," I beg him. "I don't want this. I don't want you like this." "Not a chance, Sophia. You said you'd help me make sure the City prospers," he says, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "This is it, Baby. As soon as we have an heir, it's over. It'll be just you and me. You'll bear my mark, and we can put it all behind us." 4 It's been a long time since I've been plagued with nightmares of the attack. I lay here beside my so-called mate, reliving the moment in silence. It's the final quarter. There are forty seconds on the board and six yards to a touchdown. My arms are tightly around the iron bars as I watch my oldest brother, Gavin, toss the ball to our brother Oliver. The two of them position themselves as the next play begins. All I can hear is the roar of my blood racing as I watch the final moments of the game. My brothers have been working so hard to get here, and winning this game will make them champions of this year's Packlands Championship league. "Let's go, Helvig!" someone shouts, and the crowd starts chanting our last name. The timer restarts, and the team delays the throw. The other teams are unaware of what's happening. Their eyes are locked on Oliver. Ten seconds. Oliver pushes off the ground, and the other team moves with him. Gavin rushes forward, pushing off the ground with all his might. The crowd erupts with joy as he jumps over the other quarterback, clearing the last yards. The stadium goes crazy. I scream, gripping the metal divider, and jump down along with a whole lot of other people. They did it. I cross the field and jump into my brother's arms. Oliver swings me around laughing, and then tosses me up, only for Gavin to catch me. The team and the others in the pack surround us. The older wolves howl while we, the juveniles, can only scream with joy. I have never been more proud of my brothers. I've watched them day in and day out train until they could barely stand to get here. I know it's one of the happiest days in their lives, and I get to be a part of it. "Where's Dad?" Oliver asks. I stare back at him, not knowing how to answer without ruining the win. I think he sees it in my eyes because he nods. "It's cool." "I'm here," I take his hand, and his smile returns. I jump on him again. "You did it!" "We did it," Gavin comes over with some of the other older boys and his mate. Joclyn. Joclyn is the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life, and she complements my brother perfectly. The ideal beta couple is coming into power. I hear all the whispers about them, how they're going to make the pack stronger. The best thing that could have happened to the Artume Pack was the alpha bringing in my father when he was seventeen years old. No one has anything bad to say about any of us. "Hey," I point at Dad. We all turn to see him running to us. "He came!" I beam, patting Oliver's arm. "He's here." Ollie has always tried his best to please our dad. To walk in Gavin's footsteps to show him that he's worthy of being an official Beta. I know our father is as proud as the rest of our family, but he works a lot. Being the Pack's acting Beta is a full-time job, and sometimes he misses things. Gavin tries to explain, but it's hard to listen when there's a vacant spot in every event or ceremony. "Something's wrong." Gavin takes my hand and pushes me towards Joclyn. She immediately pulls me to her. Dad waves his hands. "Run," Oliver shouts at us. "Sophie," Joclyn pulls me, and I lose my grip on my brother's arm. A loud howl echoes in the darkness in the treeline. Joclyn's hold on my hand tightens as a massive wolves come out of the darkness like demonic shadows—one after the other in every direction. "Gavin!" I cry out, but he's nowhere in sight. "Sophie, stay with me," Joclyn shouts. I follow. The two of us run towards the crowd. She's smart, she's ducking under the crowd with me in tow, not trying to go through them. I scream when someone hits the floor beside me. It's Ms. Harper, my Algebra one teacher. Her eyes are looking back at me, but there's nothing in them. I scramble away from her to get closer to Joclyn. The two of us managed to get under the bleachers with a couple of other girls from my class. "Stay behind me," Joclyn growls. Two big wolves appear up ahead. We turn around to find two more at the other end. "The tunnel," I cry out. "Go," Joclyn shoves me, and she shifts. I take the hands of two of the other girls, and we make a run for it as some of the other pack wolves back Joclyn out. I push the girls to the left, keeping us tight against the wall. Two rogues run past us. I glance back at the others, knowing that they have no idea what to do. Not any more than I do. Think. Think, Soph. What would Ollie do? I poke my head out to see that people are dying everywhere. I see an opening to the parking lot. "Okay," I look over at the girl behind me. She's in my PE class. "Okay, do you remember when we did all four exercises?" "Yes," she nods, along with some of the other girls. "Don't stop until you get out of the gate. Head towards the main building," I order. "What about you?" she cries. "I'm right behind you," I promise. She steps forward. "The gate and then the main building. Hide anywhere." The four of them take off running the way we practiced. I look back and see no one. I don't want to leave Joclyn behind, but there's really nothing I can do. I turn around and run after them. I repeat it in my head over and over. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. My body screams when my hands reach the gate. I try to catch my breath, and as I prepare to break for the parking lot, I hear a howl, and my body freezes. I turn around to see my father's wolf trying to fight off the wolves, but I lock on to the dark brown wolf behind him. Gavin. My blood runs cold. Another howl echoes in the distance. I see the pretty sand colored wolf sprint across the field and clash against the group of rogues my father is trying to fend off. I step back, unable to believe what I'm seeing. My eyes scan the crowd, trying to find Oliver. I don't see him anywhere. He wouldn't want me to get in the way. If I run out there, I can risk getting hurt or distracting them more. I turn around only to come face-to-face with two wolves. Everything happens so fast. The pain blurs a lot of what's happening. I scream as I'm dragged towards the treeline. I kick and claw, calling out for help. I hear it then, Oliver's howl. The teeth embedded in my shoulder are pulled away, and I cry out as my brother's black wolf runs past me. "Oliver!" I cry out. But it's no use. I can't move. Everything feels hot, and all I can do is watch as those monsters rip my sixteen-year-old, newly shifted brother apart. I can't breathe. All I can taste is the metal in my mouth. I turn slowly, searching the chaos for my Dad. "Daddy!" I call out. I repeat it over and over as I pull myself towards the light of the parking lot. I reach the border and pull myself closer to the light. Two growls come from behind me. I look back to see the two rogues stalking towards me. The bigger one barks, and I cry out. It pounces forward, biting at my leg. With what little strength I have, I kick him. He whines, and the other one pounces on me. Its paw lands on the wound on my shoulder, and all I can do is scream. There's a howl, and the wolves pause. The look in the direction it came from. One of them runs off, but the other one keeps its eyes on me. The howl turns into a roar just as he's about to bite me again. He freezes mid-attack and turns his attention to the darkness behind him. More wolves rush out of the darkness. One in particular stands out. A massive silverback jumps out of the darkness of the clearing. His silver fur was almost luminescent in the full moon's light. He tears those other wolves apart without mercy. The one hovering over me lowers his body and turns around to escape. I scream and reach for it. The wolf is startled, and it bites me. I cry out again and again, refusing to let go. I can feel it tearing at my stomach, but if I'm dying, he's coming with me. Silver comes in my direction, and the wolf latched onto me let's go. I keep my arms around its leg the same way I had when my brothers won tonight. I feel the hit of the young King taking the wolf off me. I fall onto my back. Water or maybe blood fills my lungs, and I can't breathe at all. I try to gasp for air, but relief never comes. All I can see are the stadium lights that illuminate the football field I've grown to love. I lay here thinking that was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. The man at my back, who swore his love and devotion, sleeps peacefully, not caring that he's tearing me apart. 5 I sit up when my alarm goes off and turn it off before it can wake him. I shower, trying my best to get his scent off my skin. To erase what he did to me until he was satisfied. My skin is raw by the time I'm ready for my first class today. I make a quick breakfast for us. I take my coffee and try to escape before he wakes up. I almost jump out of my skin when I turn around to see him standing behind me. He's never hidden his presence from me before. His smile is one I'm very familiar with. I have woken up to it every morning since his return. It was a testament to the happy life I thought we were building. It comes off sinister now that I've seen the beast he'd been hiding from me after all these years. I look at him, and I only see a stranger now. A stranger in my mate's skin. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks, stepping closer. "I didn't want to wake you, and I'm already running late," I lie, taking my cup off the counter. He steps with me and takes the cup. "Okay," he says, putting it back on the counter. "I made a reservation for us at-" "Do you really think going out in public would sit well with the pack days after your wedding?" I ask, stopping him. He tenses up. He's never been one for rejection, and up until now, I've never had a reason to say no. I'm questioning everything, and all I feel is emptiness. "I'm trying to make it up to you," he sighs. "I didn't want this either, Sophia." "I understand, which is why I'm telling you now that going out in public wouldn't be right. It would reflect poorly on the two of us. It'll be disrespectful to your wife," I see him visibly tense up as I take my cup from the counter again. "I'll see you tonight. Here, where no one can see." "I'm sorry," he blocks my path again. "Tell me how to make this right again." I stare at him to see if he looks genuine. He seems to think this is a tiny little obstacle in our path, but he doesn't understand the rules of choosing a mate. He's not going to get anything he wants without marking Poppy. What we had was over the moment he allowed his parents to dictate what would happen as he moved forward as the alpha of Artume City. Hell will freeze over before I ever forgive him. Not just for the wedding or not being able to stand up for us, but because of his actions. I don't want him anywhere near me, and he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't see that he's hurting me and making things worse. "I just need some space," I step back. "You didn't even warn me, Santiago. I knew your parents stopped caring for me the moment you told them I was an omega. I didn't think you would ever buy into it. You accepting this only proves to me that you think the same thing they do." "I don't. Sophie, you mean everything to me. You are the love of my life. From the moment I laid eyes on you," he grabs my wrist. "You have to know that." "I did," I pull my arm out of his grip. "But I find it very hard to believe it's the truth anymore." He stares at me, and I can see the war he's in with his wolf. His expression blanks, and I look away to go for the door. "Do you still love me, Soph?" he asks as I step out of the apartment. I take a deep breath and leave without saying a word because that's a stupid question. I hurry into my car and leave before he decides that he wants me to stay with him for the day. Sitting in class is not something I want to be doing right now. I'm in agony, and I have nowhere to go to let it out. Everyone is staring at me. I may not have a wolf, but I can still hear them whispering about me. Those who have hated me from the moment Santiago made our relationship known think I have finally been put in my place. As if being Santiago's mate was the only thing I was ever good at. It's such a shallow notion, and it's an odd feeling when I think that I was no better until the day I didn't shift. I complete the pop quiz and take it to the front. I'm still the first one done. I'm probably the only one in this class who's going to ace it. None of them is going to see that simply because my misery is more exciting. They want something to make me smaller. Envy is ugly when power is involved. I never wanted any of it. I fell in love with the idea of mates, especially after I lost my family. Before I went to Artume Academy, my grandmother had to stay here with me. We were both miserable. She was stuck here babysitting a twelve-year-old who couldn't even move after the attack—two years of surgeries and physical training. It was lonely, so when I met the boy with the pretty sea glass colored eyes and sly smirk, I didn't even question it. It was comforting to be vulnerable around him. To have someone to share my small world with. He was my best friend, but he was gone for a whole year, and things can change during a big stretch of time. I was stupid to think I'd get the same person back. "Ms Helvig," Professor Harrington greets me. She takes my test and sets it down on her desk. "If you need some time to-" "I don't. I'm fine," I reassure her. Her pity stings. I gather my things, wanting nothing more than to go back to my apartment and sleep for the rest of the day. "Omega bitch," someone growls as I make my way over to the exit. I pause and see an eraser on the desk beside me. Using my knee, I knock the table up and round-house kick the eraser at her. She turns back to look at me right on time, and I get her right in the center of her forehead. The class laughs at her when she stands up and screams. "I may be some omega bitch, but I can still end you. Then you'd be the stupid bitch that some omega nobody killed," I remind her. Her eyes are glowing amber with rage. I stand my ground, waiting for her to give me an excuse to beat the shit out of her. She stares at me long enough for it to be embarrassing for her. She takes a seat without saying another word. Some of the others laugh at her. I walk out satisfied. I slam against a brick wall, dropping all of my things. I look up to see a smirk aimed back at me. "Bullying the little girls, Little Omega?" he grins. "Some things never change, huh?" 6 It's been about three years since the last time I've been around the second crown prince of the Lycans. My grandmother used to bring him and his older brother here when the Lycan King and Queen were away on business. Ivar Axel is five years older than me and was best friends with my eldest brother, Gavin. Growing up, he and Gavin made it their life's purpose to infuriate me and my brother Oliver. "My prince," I step back and bow. "Don't even do that," he laughs. I smile at him and crouch down to pick up my things. "Are you okay?" Professor Harrington comes out of the classroom to check on me. I stand up, looking between the two of them. Ivar hands me my belongings. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Professor. I ran into an old friend. This is Ivar Axel. The second crown prince," I introduce him so that she can just go back inside and leave me the hell alone. Is everyone going to ask me if I'm okay? That's the last thing I need. Maybe leaving school early and having to work twice as hard in the upcoming term, so I'm not set back, isn't as bad as I think it might be. Then again, the perfectionist in me would riot. "My prince," she bows to him. She looks up at me. For a moment, she considers reaching for me, but she hesitates, then nods. "Be careful." "What was that?" Ivar laughs when she goes back into her classroom. "Don't ask," I shake my head. "It's been a long time, your highness." "I know. I'm sorry, but it's been a long two-" "Three years," I correct him. I was sixteen the last time I saw him. Not long after, I found out I was an omega. I chalked it up to the exact reason why everyone else pulled away. When others heard I didn't shift, they recoiled as if I had suddenly become contagious. "Shit, it's really been that long?" he laughs. "I'm going to the cafeteria for breakfast. Want to come?" "Lead the way. You know I love to eat." "What brings you to Artume City?" I ask. He takes a deep breath and lets out the heaviest sigh ever. I laugh at how dramatic he still is. That hasn't changed at all. "I got in trouble," he admits. "The night before a huge summit, I went out with some of the alphas in the North, and we got plastered. I didn't show, and Ragnar benched me for the rest of the year." "Ivar," I say his name, disappointedly. The alphas of the North are known for their wild parties. They're all a bunch of cowboys. "I know. I know," he shrugs. "But honestly, I don't even care. I'm tired. I hate politics, and my dad wants me to be beta. That means I'd have to walk beside Ragnar for the rest of my life, and I can't think of anything worse." "I thought you guys were close. Did something happen?" I ask. "Nah, I just hate how planned out his life is. He doesn't know how to have fun. He's devoted to sucking up to our dad and training to be the new Lycan King. I don't have that responsibility, and we have an amazing up-and-coming Beta. I don't see why he's pushing this so hard." "I can think of one thing. You'd be the King's most trusted. There would be no one better to watch his back than his own brother," I shrug. He takes two trays off the belt and hands me one. "Okay, when you put it like that, it makes me sound like I'm entitled," he smirks. "Just a little," I laugh. "So, what? You decided to come slum it with us civilians?" "Actually, I'm here on guard duty." "Oh yeah? Who?" I ask, interested. "You," he says. "Me?" I ask, glancing back at him as I reach for a slice of pizza. I snort as I take a few other items. "Why would I need guarding?" "You tell me. Major General Helvig set the order. My orders are to stay with you until your move to Blackstone. She didn't specify any details," he says, glancing at me as if I were hiding some grand secret. I grab a couple of drinks and get in line for the cash register. My stomach tightens as I play what he said over and over in my head. She couldn't make it, so she sent Ivar to make sure I made it back in one piece. Santiago is not going to like it one bit. Shit. "Ms Helvig," the girl at the register greets me kindly. "Hey, Steph," I say. "The two lunches, please." "Of course," she says and rings us up. We take a seat somewhere away from the big crowds. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he asks. I reach for my lemonade. The sleeve of my hoodie pulls up. I try not to make it evident that I'm hiding it, but I know he saw it. His playful demeanor instantly fades. He stares at me as I reach for my breakfast pizza slice and take a bite. What am I supposed to do in this situation? Lie? To the crown prince? And then what? I tell him the truth, and he confronts Santiago. This is not going to end well. "Some shit happened," I shrug it off. "Who did that to you?" he asks. "I mostly did it to myself," ugh. I just said that. "Did Santiago hurt you?" he asks, his voice low, and leans forward to hear my answer. I don't know how to answer him. I don't know how to explain what is happening to me. I'm scared. Anything I do or say will be evaluated. Santiago made a choice, and I wasn't it. Yet things aren't as black-and-white as that. He sits back without pushing it, and I feel like an idiot for feeling this relieved. "Can we talk about this later? Where are you staying?" I ask him. "At the Helvig Estate. There are instructions for you," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket. He places the envelope with the royal seal wax stamp on it. I wipe my hands and my mouth before reaching for it. There are envelopes—one for me and one for Santiago. I shut my eyes, already exhausted with where this is headed. I open my letter to see it written on the page. By order of Major General Zaraphine Helvig, Sophia Marie Anne Helvig is to return to the Helvig estate for the remainder of her school term to liquidate all Helvig properties and ensure the safety of all valuables so they may be returned to her in Blackstone. It's specified that no outsiders are to enter the house during this time to protect said valuables. It goes on to say that Ivar is here to ensure that everything listed is completed in accordance with the provided schedule. It's not only signed by my grandmother, but the Lycan King himself. If anyone were to question it, they would have to ask the two of them directly. "Fuck my life," I toss the envelope onto the other one. He'll know exactly what's going to happen when the term ends in three months. There will be no hiding it, even if I'm able to convince him for a while. We'll both know. I wonder if we're going to make it out of this. If anything will ever be okay again. "You promise to tell me what's going on when we get home?" he asks. "I'm going to have to keep him off you, aren't I?" "I'd like to think he's above that, but it's a probability," I whisper. "Okay," he nods, his expression softening. "I'll try not to kill him. Although I doubt my brother would hate it when I tell him I mistakenly started a war because someone is hurting you."

InactiveJun 29, 26
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ARIA The key turns the lock with a soft click that sounds too loud in the quiet hallway. I'm practically vibrating with excitement as I push open the door to Marcus's apartment, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. The promotion letter is still warm in my purse—Senior Director of Marketing at twenty-six. After years of caffeine-fueled nights, endless presentations, and fighting twice as hard to be taken seriously, I finally made it. And I can't wait to celebrate with Marcus. He’ll be proud. I know he will. He’ll kiss me, spin me around, and whisper that he always knew I could do it. The apartment is dark when I step inside, the faint scent of cedar and cologne wrapping around me. A single sliver of light leaks from beneath the bedroom door. My smile deepens. He’s home. I slip off my heels, tiptoeing across the hardwood floor. The diamond on my finger catches a ghost of light. two carats of carefully selected princess-cut diamonds. We chose it together three months ago. Our wedding is in eight weeks. Eight weeks until everything I’ve ever dreamed of becomes real. I reach for the bedroom door, with my heart full, and my mind already painting the moment I tell him. The feeling of his arms around me. His deep, throaty chuckle that does wonders in my body. The champagne we’ll open... A sound cuts through my thoughts. Low, rhythmic, and sexy. I stop breathing. It takes a second for my mind to catch up to my body to process what my ears already know but refuse to accept. No. No, it can’t be... My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. A voice inside me begs to turn around, to leave before everything changes. But my fingers keep moving, like they belong to someone else, pushing the door open. The scene before me moves in slow motion and all at once. Marcus... My Marcus is behind a woman bent over the edge of our bed. His hands grip her hips, hard and possessive, dragging her back against him with brutal rhythm. The air fills with the sound of skin meeting skin, obscene and unmistakable. My vision blurs, and my mind refuses to believe what my eyes see. The woman’s hair falls in long, dark waves, and it's a familiar wave, for a fact. No. Please, God—no. She turns her head. And I see my own face. Or rather...my twin sister’s. Vivienne. Her green eyes lock on mine. And then she smiles. Slow, deliberate, cruel smiles, that vicious curve of lips I've seen a thousand times when she's won something, taken something, or destroyed something that belongs to me. “Fuck me harder, baby,” she moans, voice dripping with mockery, not even bothering to look away from me or trying to act shocked. She's performing for me now. The sound pierces through me, and my lungs seize. I can’t move, think, or speak. Marcus doesn't stop. Not immediately. It takes him several more thrusts before he follows her gaze and sees me standing in the doorway. "Aria." His voice is flat. Not shocked or apologetic. Just... flat. Like I was a curious child who walked in on her parents going at it, and now they are disappointed in me for not playing elsewhere. The engagement ring suddenly feels like a chain that weighs a thousand pounds on my finger. "How long?" The words scrape out of my throat like broken glass. Vivienne laughs as she pushes herself up, completely shameless in her nakedness. Marcus pulls out of her and reaches for his pants, but there's no urgency or panic in his movements. Because this isn't a mistake. This isn't a moment of weakness. This is something else entirely. "How long?" I repeat, my voice breaking. "Does it matter?" Marcus asks, buttoning his pants with steady hands. Yes. Yes, it fucking matters. But I can't seem to make my mouth form the words. Vivienne wraps herself in Marcus's robe, the one I bought him for his birthday, and walks toward me. Every step is deliberate and calculated. She's always been like this. Always knew exactly how to wound me in the places that hurt most. "Want the truth, sister?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. I should leave, run. But I'm rooted to the spot, watching my life implode in real-time. Vivienne leans against the doorframe, so close I can smell her perfume. The same one I wear. The same one our mother bought us for our sixteenth birthday. "He was mine first." The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?" "Marcus." She gestures lazily toward him. "He was my boyfriend for eight months before you ever met him." No. That's not possible. We met at a networking event two years ago. He pursued me. He said... "The conference in Boston," Marcus says, and his voice is far gone from the sexy, throaty voice that pulled me to him. He sounds like he's presenting at a board meeting. "Where we 'met'? Vivienne told me you'd be there. Told me exactly where to stand so I'd 'accidentally' bump into you." The room tilts. I grab the doorframe for support. "She gave me everything," he continues. "Your favorite flowers. Your coffee order. The way you twist your hair when you're nervous. How you always wanted to wait for marriage because you thought it would mean something." The virgin comment lands like he knew it would. Heat floods my cheeks. Vivienne's smile sharpens. "You're so predictable, Aria. You always have been. The good daughter. The responsible one. The one who does everything right." "Why?" My voice breaks completely now. "Why would you..." "Because I'm sick of watching you have everything I deserve!" The words explode out of her. "You got the job I wanted. The respect I should have. Everyone loves perfect Aria, so smart, so accomplished, so genuine." She spits the last word like it's poison. "I'm your sister," I whisper. "Exactly." Her eyes flash. "My twin. We're supposed to be equal. But you've always had more. Not prettier...we're identical. Not smarter...I'm not stupid. But somehow, you always win." "So you decided to destroy me." "So I decided to bring you down from your high horse for once." She straightens, crossing her arms. "And it was so easy. God, Aria, you fell for every line. Every carefully crafted text message. Every manufactured 'spontaneous' date. Marcus played you perfectly." I look at Marcus, searching for any sign of the man I thought I knew. The man I thought I loved. "You were a job," he says simply. "A very lucrative job. You had the connections I needed. The respect in the industry. Dating you, getting engaged to you...it opened doors." "And destroying me?" I force the words out. "What did that open?" Vivienne answers instead. "My satisfaction. Finally, watching perfect Aria lose something. Watching you hurt the way I've hurt every time Mom and Dad praised your accomplishments while barely noticing mine." This isn't happening. This can't be happening. "The sex would have been decent," Marcus adds, and I want to vomit. "But you were always so hesitant. So worried about being perfect. Your sister, on the other hand..." Vivienne preens under his attention. Three years. Three years of my life with a man who was my sister's puppet. Who never loved me. Who was actively plotting my destruction while I was picking out wedding invitations and dreaming about our future? The promotion letter in my purse feels meaningless now. Everything feels meaningless. "Get out," Vivienne says, like this is her apartment. Like she has any right. I should say something cutting. Something that puts them both in their place. But my throat is closed and my eyes are burning, and all I can think is that I need to leave before I completely fall apart in front of them. So I do. I turn and walk out of the apartment on numb legs. Behind me, I hear Vivienne's laughter follow me down the hall.

InactiveJun 29, 26 ¡ 1d
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I signed the rejection papers while my mate kissed another woman on our bed. The pen didn't even shake in my hand. Three years of marriage—and this was how it ended. Not with a fight. Not with tears. Just the quiet scratch of ink on paper while she moaned his name in the next room. I placed the signed documents on the kitchen counter, right next to the breakfast I'd made him—his favorite, eggs Benedict with smoked salmon. The plate was still warm. Then I picked up my bag and walked toward the door. I didn't slam it. I closed it gently, the way I'd done everything in this marriage—quietly, carefully, making sure I never disturbed anyone. The morning air hit my face. Cold. Sharp. January in New York. My wolf stirred inside me, weak but restless. *"We need to tell him,"* she whispered. I pressed my hand against my stomach—still flat, but not for long. Six weeks pregnant. With the child of an Alpha who just rejected me for his childhood sweetheart. No. He didn't need to know. He'd made his choice. And I'd made mine. I pulled out my phone and dialed the only number I had left. "Aunt Harper? It's Elara." "Elara? Oh my God, sweetheart—what's wrong? It's six in the morning." "I need a place to stay. Can I come to you?" A pause. Then, softly: "What did he do?" My throat tightened. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to sound unbothered. But when someone asks you *what happened* with genuine care in their voice—after three years of no one asking at all—something inside you just... breaks. "He chose her," I whispered. "He's been choosing her for months. I just... I didn't want to see it." "I'm booking your train ticket right now. Don't argue." "Okay." "And Elara?" "Yeah?" "You're never going back to that man. Do you hear me?" I ended the call and stood on the sidewalk, watching the city wake up around me. Somewhere behind me, in the penthouse I'd called home for three years, my husband—no, my *ex*-husband—was tangled in sheets with Megan Cross, the woman he told me was "just a colleague." Funny thing was, I'd believed him. Every single time. When she called at midnight, I believed him. When her perfume clung to his collar, I believed him. When she showed up at our anniversary dinner "by coincidence," I smiled and offered her a seat. Because that's what Luna Elara did. She trusted. She forgave. She stayed. But Luna Elara was gone now. My phone buzzed. Aunt Harper had sent the ticket. The train left in two hours. I didn't look back—not once. But my wolf did. And the last thing she felt through the bond, before I shut it down completely, was this: He was laughing. He was laughing with her in our bed—and he hadn't even noticed I was gone.

InactiveJun 29, 26 ¡ 1d
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Twenty minutes. That’s how long it took for me to change grooms. Right there, at the marriage license bureau in Las Vegas. Garrett, my fiancé of three years, had left me standing there alone to go deal with his childhood friend, who had supposedly taken a fall. He thought I’d wait, just like I always did. He thought I’d swallow the text he sent: *Don’t make a scene. We’ll sign when I get back.* But he didn’t know. This time, I called someone else. And twenty minutes after I sent my own text, another man walked through the door, holding a ring and his ID. His name was Noah. A lawyer who, as it turned out, had been in love with me for six years. He told me that for him, this wasn’t an impulse. It was a wish, finally granted. … My phone buzzed again. Another text from Garrett. *Sloane’s condition is worse than I thought. She refuses to go to the hospital, so I need to stay and watch over her. Baby, go back to Charleston without me. Don’t wait.* I stared at the screen, a laugh bubbling up in my throat, sharp and bitter. Don’t wait. Those two words were a perfect, painful summary of the last three years. Don’t wait for him to get off the phone with Sloane. Don’t wait for him to tear himself away from one of Sloane’s endless “emergencies.” Don’t wait for him to keep a single promise that didn’t get derailed by someone who always, always came before me. Today was the day we were supposed to get married in Las Vegas. And he was telling me not to wait. “Next, Ms. Bennett?” Behind the counter, a clerk with tired eyes and smudged glasses raised her voice. It cut through the thick air of cheap perfume and secondhand excitement, impossibly clear. Heads turned. I felt the curious glances of other couples prickle my skin, all of them staring at the lone bride-to-be, clutching her wedding paperwork. A hot wave of humiliation washed over me. I took a deep breath, stood, and walked to the counter. “Yes,” I said, my voice so calm it felt like it belonged to someone else. “I’m still getting married today.” The clerk blinked, her gaze dropping to the documents I’d handed her. Garrett Whitaker’s name was printed in bold. I ignored her confusion and pulled out my phone. I didn’t have to search my contacts; the name was already seared into my memory. Noah Caldwell. Six years ago, during a hurricane evacuation in Savannah, my car had broken down. He was a stranger who’d stopped to help me change a tire, then pressed a case of water and a box of emergency rations into my hands to make sure I got out safely. We’d only exchanged names and numbers. He’d said he was a lawyer, and to call him if I ever needed anything. In six years, I’d only called him once, to ask a question about a business contract for my floral studio. Now, I was calling in the favor. My fingers flew across the screen, no hesitation at all. *Are you in Las Vegas?* Sent. His reply was almost instantaneous. *Yes.* My heart gave a sharp, painful thud. *Clark County Marriage License Bureau. Bring your ID. Get here in twenty minutes and marry me.* The “read” receipt appeared. For a moment, the three little dots bounced at the top of the screen as he typed, deleted, and typed again, no doubt trying to process the sheer insanity of my request. Then the dots vanished. A short reply took their place. *On my way.* I set my phone face down on the cool laminate counter and let out a long, shaky breath. All right, Maya Bennett. You’ve finally done something completely, utterly crazy. But strangely, I wasn’t scared. All I felt was the quiet relief of someone who had just burned their last bridge to the ground. My screen lit up with a video call from my best friend, Jenna. I hesitated for a second, then answered. “Let me see it! Let me see the brand-new Mrs. Whitaker’s marriage certificate!” Jenna’s grin filled the screen, her Charleston living room bright behind her. “Not yet,” I said, my voice flat. “What? They......

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