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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."

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."

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."

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."

Chapter 1 Love Dies With One Final Snap Teresa Sullivan returned to Brocade Villa at 10 pm. The full moon marked her ovulation day, the 15th. Ever since her daughter Yolanda Logan was born, her in-laws had been pressuring her for another child. Most women would have laughed it off, saying there was no throne to inherit. But the Logans were different. As Riverdale's wealthiest family, their billion-dollar empire demanded a male heir. When Teresa stepped into the bedroom, her husband, Charles Logan, was already showered and ready. No pleasantries, no small talk, they went straight to business. Three minutes later, Charles went to the bathroom. When he returned, Teresa remained still in bed. He dressed with his back to her, tossing the words over his shoulder, "Test on schedule. Call me if it's positive." For five years, he had always treated her with such bare minimum of speech. Their marriage existed only on paper, while Charles openly maintained his relationship with his mistress. Teresa spent sleepless nights combing through his social media, tracing every digital footprint until she found the other woman's profile. Since then, she checked it compulsively, like picking at a scab that would never heal. Before the second-child plan, Teresa could hardly see Charles in person. She could only track her husband's life through the other woman's posts: lavish meals, exotic vacations, birthday celebrations. Now they met exactly once a month, like clockwork. Knowing Charles was eager to leave, Teresa quickly stood up. "Wait," she said, her voice catching. "We need to talk." Her hands clenched at her sides as she stared at his back. Charles slowly turned, his face a mask of cold indifference. "About what?" he asked, the words sharp as broken glass. Teresa's voice dropped to a whisper. "I want to make this work," she pleaded, knowing deep down it was probably too late. But she had to try. She had fought too hard for this marriage, for their family. Their daughter deserved better than failed parents. Charles showed no reaction. Teresa couldn't tell if he hadn't heard or was deliberately ignoring her. He finished buttoning his shirt, fastened his watch, and headed for the door without a word. This time, Teresa stayed by the bed. No desperate hugs. No pleading for him to stay. The old habits had died quietly. Just as Charles reached for the doorknob, Teresa's composure shattered. "You only come to Brocade Villa once a month," she cried, her voice cracking. "No calls. No meals together. We're complete strangers. Tell me, Charles, what kind of marriage even is this?" Charles stopped, turning just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes stayed dry as hers overflowed. "When you're carrying my son," he said flatly, "I'll return." The door clicked shut behind him. Teresa didn't move. For the first time, she let him walk away. She had poured her whole heart into this marriage. The birth of their daughter nearly killed her, with doctors issuing three critical warnings during her amniotic fluid embolism. Still, she had been willing to risk death again for a son. Now, standing alone in their empty bedroom, she started to wonder whether this sacrifice meant anything. After her shower, Teresa automatically grabbed her phone and opened the video app. The "Frequently Viewed" list showed just one account named YatesDaily, with its cheerful profile picture. A new post had gone up two minutes ago. The video displayed two shadowy figures under a streetlight, holding hands with matching bracelets. The caption read, [Two shadows under the light. One is mine. The other is also mine.] Her heart wrenched a bit, but quietly now. Where there once was a hurricane, only ripples remained. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to the feeling. These days, their meetings always ended the same way with Charles rushing off to see the other woman. But when the emotion faded, she clung to one certainty. As long as Charles needed her to bear his heir, no one could replace her as Mrs. Logan. But this hollow marriage was a bitter pill she had to keep swallowing day after lonely day. ***** A month later, on a chilly Tuesday evening, Teresa rushed into Brocade Villa, the still-warm pregnancy test report crumpled in her sweaty palm. Her heart pounded, not from running but from the two bold lines that changed everything. Tonight, she would finally have news worth celebrating. As Teresa stepped into the living room, her mother-in-law's sharp voice cut through the air, freezing her in the doorway. "Charles, you're 32," Roselyn Lockwood said. "Five years married and only one daughter. Meeting your wife once a month? How's she supposed to get pregnant like that? If it's really not working, let your mistress try. Any boy with Logan blood will do." Charles immediately rejected the idea, "That's not acceptable." Teresa stepped back, hiding in the shadows. For a brief moment, her heart fluttered, because Charles was standing up for her. After all, she remained his lawful wife, regardless of his affairs. But then his tone shifted, clinical and cold, "Remember her embolism during Yolanda's birth?" Roselyn's face darkened. "And who brought this curse into our home? The Logans never had such shame before." Her voice rose to a shrill pitch. "Other wives pop out babies like it's nothing. But our precious Teresa? One birth and we're the talk of the town for days. Humiliating!" Charles completely ignored his mother's complaints. Instead, he explained, "Childbirth is dangerous. Teresa has already been through it once. She can handle the risk. But Naomi is still young. I can't let her take that chance." Teresa stood rooted outside the door, shock coursing through her like electricity. She felt sad, but the tears wouldn't come. Knowing Charles had betrayed her and that their marriage was broken, she still had clung to the naive hope that a second child might bind him to her and that the Logan name would protect her. Now reality struck, colder and harsher than she had ever dreamed. It turned out, to Charles, she was just a womb for his heir. He had forgotten how she sank into darkness after Yolanda's birth, how the sight of blood made her tremble, how doctors fought to keep her alive. He fretted over the other woman's safety in childbirth, never realizing Teresa's risk was far deadlier. The voices inside the room gradually became distant echoes. Teresa's lips twisted in a bitter smile. She had nearly died giving the Logans a daughter, yet Charles sowed his betrayals like seeds. Clutching the pregnancy report, she thought maybe it was time to end it all. Today was their scheduled conception day, but the ritual now felt hollow. It turned out love died not with a slow fade, but with one final snap. At this moment, there was also no reason to keep the child in her belly. If no one else cared about her life, at least she should do that for herself. As Teresa turned to leave, their housekeeper Barbara Davis noticed her, "Mrs. Logan, you're back already?" Teresa forced a smile, thinking perhaps today was finally the day to mention divorce. Chapter 2 I'm Done Teresa hid the pregnancy test report before walking into the living room. The conversation between Roselyn and Charles abruptly stopped when she appeared. Breaking her usual routine, Teresa didn't even bother with greetings as she entered. Before she had foolishly believed that being the perfect wife and daughter-in-law would make her husband finally see her worth. But life had taught her a cruel lesson. Even if she ripped out her own heart and offered it to the Logans, they wouldn't spare her a glance. Five years of sacrificing everything for this marriage had left her with nothing. It was time to stop that now. Charles knew exactly why he had come home today. He gave Barbara a pointed look and ordered, "Barbara, show Teresa out." The whole time, Teresa stood silently in the corner, but her eyes had turned ice-cold. Charles was the capable head of Logan Group, running everything with perfect precision. He treated his elders with respect, stood by his friends through thick and thin, managed his team with fairness, and showed genuine care for all his employees. Everyone who knew Charles spoke of him with admiration. Their mutual friends often joked that Teresa must have performed miracles in her past life to be married to such a man. But his kindness never reached his own wife. After five years of marriage, Teresa finally understood the painful truth. This cold, empty marriage was not what she wanted anymore. As Roselyn passed by Teresa, she suddenly stopped and said with icy contempt, "If you can't produce a male heir, you'll never be a true Logan." Before, Teresa would have swallowed such words quietly. But those days were over. She met Roselyn's gaze, all former obedience gone from her eyes. "Roselyn, we're both women," she shot back. "Since when is the baby's gender just my fault?" Roselyn had always treated Teresa like a meek little mouse she could push around. This sudden defiance caught her off guard, but she wasn't about to tolerate it. Her hand shot out, the slap cracking like a whip across Teresa's cheek. "You dare talk back to me?" she snapped. "On your knees. Now." There was something almost brutal in her expression, laced with the confidence that Teresa would crumble under her dominance. She knew Teresa loved Charles enough to sacrifice dignity, cast off pride, and even debase herself as a servant for the Logans. But now, Teresa refused to just swallow her pain. Since the Logans had never valued her sacrifices or even her life, she wouldn't yield to them any more. Her eyes hardened as they met Roselyn's. Without a word, she stepped forward, raising her hand to swing. But before her slap could reach Roselyn, a large hand shot out and caught her wrist. At the same time, a deep, reprimanding voice growled in her ear, "Teresa, do you really need to make things worse?" Teresa raised her head, meeting Charles's sharply defined features. His icy gaze prickled against her skin like needles. This was the face that had once driven her wild with obsession, but now, as she studied it closely, a quiet revulsion stirred within her. 'How can anyone be this heartless? Being ignored, cheated on and treated like trash, I could live with that. But regarding me as some baby-making machine? Demanding another child like my life means nothing? That would kill me.' Just thinking about it made her sick. When she was about to say something, Charles suddenly flung her hand away with force and said coldly, "I'm not in the mood today. Ask me again next month." With that, he took Roselyn's arm and walked out. Roselyn glanced back with a smug look that said it all, 'Of course he would choose me. You were never family.' Before, Teresa would've crumbled when Charles took his mother's side. But now, she felt nothing. No tears. No hurt. Just empty silence. As Charles was leaving the hall, Teresa suddenly called out, "Charles." She always kept her word. Now that she had decided on divorce, nothing would stop her, just like when she had stubbornly married him despite her family's strong objections. Eight years of loving Charles had drained her completely. He never valued her, never tried to make their marriage work. The only reason he married her is she got pregnant, and he felt forced to do the right thing. Their marriage was a grave, but Teresa was the only one buried alive. She should have woken up years ago. Charles stopped at the doorway. Teresa thought he was listening to her. Drawing a steady breath, she finally said what she had held back for years, "I'm done. Let's end this." The words lifted a weight she had carried far too long. But Charles abruptly raised his phone to his ear. She caught only his hurried response, "Got it. On my way." Without even glancing back, he ushered Roselyn out of Brocade Villa, leaving Teresa's declaration hanging in the air. As his figure vanished, Teresa finally let out a hollow laugh. Her words, her moment of courage, meant nothing to him. Barbara came back from seeing them off and was startled to find Teresa still frozen in the middle of the living room, as if turned to stone by some ancient curse. "Mrs. Logan?" she called out cautiously, taking a hesitant step forward. Suddenly snapping back to reality, Teresa numbly walked to the sofa and sank down. "Barbara," she said, her voice hollow, "make me dinner." For years she had done everything herself, surviving on the crumbs of Charles's attention. His rare visits had been enough to sustain her foolish hope, but now she knew better. A bitter smile touched her lips as she remembered she had once been her family's treasured youngest daughter, so fiercely protected that she had never needed to lift a finger for anything. After dinner, Teresa went straight to the study and drew up divorce papers. The Sullivans were well-off, and as a pediatrician, she could easily provide for Yolanda. But five years of silent suffering had earned her nothing but a cold, indifferent husband. So she made it clear that Charles would surrender half of their marital assets, plus 700,000 monthly in child support. Teresa stopped writing when she got to the part about Yolanda. She didn't know who her daughter would choose to live with. Realizing she had to ask Yolanda first, she picked up the unfinished divorce papers and left Brocade Villa right away. After Yolanda's birth, Charles purchased Joyacre Villa for his daughter. Teresa had been Yolanda's full-time caregiver for four years before resuming her hospital work. But as her professional responsibilities grew, she found fewer opportunities to be with her daughter. Over the past six months, she had been doing specialized training at a major regional hospital in the neighboring city. The only times she had seen Charles recently were when her foolish heart hoped another baby might anchor her drifting husband. She was always busy, but still swapped shifts with coworkers, working three straight overnight shifts just to see Charles. It never entered her mind that she couldn't have another baby by herself. If she was too busy, Charles could have come to her. But he always chose the other woman instead. A little after nine in the evening, Teresa took a taxi to Joyacre Villa. As she was getting out of the car, her phone showed a new video notification from YatesDaily, one of her regularly watched accounts. Chapter 3 Yolanda Chooses The Other Teresa didn't mean to watch, but force of habit made her tap the video. There was just one photo of Charles crouching before Naomi Yates. Underneath it read, [Had some wine, caught a chill. Called and you came. Having you here means everything.] Teresa's chest tightened at the image. 'If they're so in love, maybe I should step aside. Just give me my daughter and my fair share of the assets in the divorce. That's all I need.' She pocketed her phone and walked into the living room. Sharon Miller, the long-time housekeeper at Joyacre Villa, looked up in surprise when Teresa entered. "Mrs. Logan," she said after a brief hesitation, "Miss Yolanda's in her playroom upstairs with those Barbies she loves so much." Sharon barely finished speaking when Yolanda's excited voice rang out from above, "Mommy?" Teresa's heart ached. It had been weeks since she held her daughter. She dashed upstairs, scooping Yolanda into her arms and sinking to her knees to cover Yolanda's face with kisses. When Teresa finally drew back to speak, she saw Yolanda furiously rubbing her face. The sight choked Teresa's words before they could form. Tears welled as she stared at her daughter, her heart in turmoil. "Mommy, you're just in time," Yolanda blurted out before Teresa could speak. "I was gonna call you. For kindergarten, I want East Street Preschool." Her whole face lit up at the words. Teresa didn't understand why, but seeing Yolanda so excited, she couldn't say no. After all, it was only kindergarten. They could change schools later if needed. "Okay," she smiled, "East Street Preschool then." Yolanda immediately started jumping up and down with delight. Teresa watched Yolanda's joyful face, her own words suddenly stuck in her throat. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her belly. Then, meeting Yolanda's eyes, she asked quietly, "Sweetheart, would you want a baby brother or sister?" Yolanda shifted impatiently from foot to foot, clearly wanting to go back to her room, but she paused to consider the question. After a moment, she nodded decisively. "Okay," she said, "then I want a brother." A sharp pain shot through Teresa's heart. With teary eyes, she asked, "What if Mommy is scared?" Though the physical danger was gone, her hands still trembled as she remembered those terrifying hours after Yolanda's birth. The blood, the rushing doctors, the fear she might never hold her baby. Yolanda tilted her head, studying Teresa's worried face with surprising seriousness. "Then don't be selfish, Mommy," she said. "You weren't scared to have me, right?" Teresa went completely still, her face turning pale as if struck by lightning. She stood frozen for what felt like ages, lips trembling before she managed to whisper, "Don't you care if you lose Mommy forever?" For four long years, Teresa had shouldered every parenting duty by herself, waking for midnight feedings, singing soft lullabies, tending to every cry and need. In all that time, she couldn't remember a single uninterrupted night's sleep. Now, after all that sacrifice, she just wondered if her little girl still loved her. Yolanda's nose scrunched in annoyance. "I'm sleepy now," she declared. Before Teresa could react, Yolanda had scampered off, her bedroom door slamming shut. Left alone on the stairs, Teresa stood frozen, a hollow chill spreading through her chest. Soon, Yolanda's excited voice drifted from the bedroom. "Miss Naomi, I'm going to East Street Preschool! You can pick me up after work. It's right near your office. And no babies for you and Daddy, okay? Mommy says it's dangerous. She has done it before with me, so she can do it again. I really miss your bedtime stories and your hugs." Teresa stood outside the bedroom door, her chest aching as she remembered how Yolanda had wiped away her kisses earlier. She had believed that no matter what happened with Charles, her daughter would always be hers. Yet now Yolanda was pushing her away too, just like what her father had done. Teresa finally realized all her sacrifices and efforts were nothing but a joke. No one cared about what she had endured. Moving like a sleepwalker, she made her way downstairs. Sharon reached out when she saw Teresa's hollow expression, but got only a silent wave in reply. As soon as Teresa stepped out of Joyacre Villa, she pulled out her phone and called Charles. Ring after ring went unanswered. Usually she would hang up after a few tries, but tonight she kept hitting redial like a madwoman. When Charles finally answered, his voice was clipped, "I'm busy. If this is important—" Charles hadn't finished speaking when Teresa's voice cut in, sharp as glass shards, "Meet me. Now." The calm demand erupted into raw screams. Charles's face darkened at her outburst. When Teresa finally calmed down, Charles replied in an icy tone, "Whatever it is, we'll talk next month." The line went dead before Teresa could respond, leaving her clutching the silent phone. This was classic Charles, cutting her off, leaving her screaming into the void. Five years of this had hollowed her out. Divorce was the only way. But she would fight tooth and nail for Yolanda. Even if Yolanda seemed to favor Naomi now, those countless nights soothing a fussy baby still meant something. That bond couldn't be broken so easily. Teresa had just made up her mind when a Rolls Royce came to a sudden stop at the villa gates. Through the windshield, she saw Charles behind the wheel and Naomi Yates sitting beside him, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Charles met Teresa's gaze through the glass, the air between them thick with silence. In the past, Teresa was too afraid to confront Naomi's presence. Now, she couldn't even bring herself to care. After an agonizing silence, Charles finally stepped out of the car. Ignoring Teresa completely, he moved to open the door for Naomi. But Teresa called out sharply, "Charles. We need to talk." Charles kept moving, his hand already on the door handle. Teresa seized his wrist and forced it down. "Sleep with every woman in this city if you want," she spat through clenched teeth, "but that mistress of yours stays away from my daughter." At last, Charles looked at her. His gaze was cold, his voice low and dismissive, "Naomi would make a better mother than you." With that, he pushed past her and opened the car door. Teresa stood rooted to the spot, the cruel meaning dawning on her. 'Did he just say Naomi should be Yolanda's mother?' Chapter 4 Bad Mommy The car door opened. Charles held it with one hand and reached out to Naomi with the other. Their hands touched just as Teresa turned around. She should have felt hurt seeing this, but instead she was calm. Perhaps she had finally understood everything. That was why she could stand there so quietly now. She would've cried her heart out before. But now, all she could think was confronting Charles. "Charles," she said, her lips trembling, voice unsteady, "what exactly did you mean by that?" Naomi stepped out of the car, her hand still tucked in Charles's arm. Their long shadows blended together under the moonlight. Charles acted as if he hadn't heard Teresa, leading Naomi toward Joyacre Villa instead. Teresa had lost track of how many times she had been ignored like this. Her heart had taken too many blows already. But when it came to her daughter, she couldn't back down. Before she knew it, she had grabbed Charles's wrist with surprising force. "Charles!" Her voice cut through the night. "You owe me an explanation." Charles finally stopped and turned, his gaze icy. With a quick twist, he freed his wrist effortlessly. "You're busy with work," he said coldly, "and Yolanda's still young. She needs care. When you're pregnant again, Naomi will take care of Yolanda." That was Charles, always deciding things alone, declaring them like orders, not discussions. But this time, Teresa refused to accept his unilateral decision. When she had first planned her training in the neighboring city, she had personally chosen a nanny for Yolanda. Only last month did she learn Charles had fired the nanny a long time ago. During her half-year absence, Naomi had moved into Joyacre Villa, where the three of them had been living together as a happy family. Teresa had always avoided making scenes, clinging to the faint hope that Charles still respected her as his wife. But now, even her daughter was being taken from her. She couldn't simply walk away. When it came to Yolanda's care, Teresa's calm finally broke. "I can raise my own child," she said, her voice shaking. "We don't need any outsiders." Charles brushed aside Teresa's protests like they were nothing. "The matter is decided," he stated flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Teresa's patience finally snapped. "I said I'll take care of my own daughter!" Her voice rang out, sharper than she had ever allowed herself to sound before. The air grew thick with tension. Noticing the rising conflict, Naomi, who had been quietly standing behind Charles, gently stepped in, "Charles, maybe you two should talk this out? I'll go see how Yolanda is doing." She waited for Charles's approving nod before heading back toward Joyacre Villa. Just then, Teresa's sharp command stopped her, "Naomi, stay right there." The instant Naomi glanced back, Teresa's hand flew out, a loud slap landing across her face. Charles immediately pushed Teresa away and wrapped Naomi protectively in his arms. "Did she hurt you?" he asked urgently, examining the red mark blooming on her cheek. Naomi covered her stinging face, tears springing to her eyes with picture-perfect timing, the very image of wronged innocence. Charles was worried about Naomi. But Teresa felt no guilt. No decent woman would meddle this deeply with a married man. Then again, it took two to tango. Charles bore equal blame. Just as Teresa opened her mouth to say something, a small figure came sprinting from Joyacre Villa. Yolanda came running in a hurry, her small feet bare on the ground. The moment she got close, she threw herself at Naomi, wrapping both arms tightly around Naomi's legs. Her wide eyes brimmed with concern as she looked up. "Miss Naomi, does it hurt?" she whispered, voice quivering. Yolanda was getting ready for bed when she saw her father's car pull up through the window. Spotting him returning with Miss Naomi, she bolted downstairs. She reached the doorway just as Teresa's slap landed. Without a second thought, she ran to them, leaving her shoes behind in her hurry. Teresa stood rooted to the spot, watching her husband and daughter comfort this outsider. A sharp pain shot through her chest. She could practically hear her heart breaking. But what hurt most was seeing the little rose she had raised now pricking her with its thorns. Her hand shook as she reached out, her voice cracking, "Yolanda." Teresa barely got the name out when Yolanda spun around, face flushed with anger. The next instant, Yolanda flew at Teresa, small fists beating against Teresa's thighs. "Bad Mommy! Bad Mommy!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with rage. "Why would you hurt Miss Naomi? I hate you!" Teresa stood frozen, her face going pale in an instant. The realization hit her like a physical blow. Everything she had fought for in the custody battle had been nothing but her own foolish fantasy. Neither her husband nor her daughter wanted her anymore. In that moment, she became the punchline of her own life's cruel joke. But the most painful part was that she carried another child for a man who had never loved her. Teresa barely noticed how long Yolanda kept hitting her, when it stopped, or what else the little girl screamed. Those two words "Bad Mommy" had killed every bit of hope left. Numb, she stood frozen for a long moment. Then she let out a hollow laugh and walked away, without even glancing at Charles or Yolanda. Behind her, Charles and Yolanda kept huddling around Naomi, never noticing Teresa's departure. As she rounded the corner, she stole one final look back at the two people who had been her whole world for five years. Charles held Naomi's right hand while Yolanda clung to her left as they walked together, the three of them forming the very image of a loving family returning home. Teresa's lips quivered into a semblance of a smile, all her sorrow trapped inside. She longed to weep, but the tears refused to surface. These five years had sucked her dry. Never again would she burn herself to light their way. She walked away from Joyacre Villa alone, step by step replaying the past five years in her mind. Somewhere inside, she had always known this relationship was eating her alive. She just couldn't admit it. But now her eyes were open. From this moment on, she would put herself first. Teresa took a cab back to Brocade Villa. In the study, she prepared a new divorce agreement, stating that all assets would be divided equally and that she would not seek custody of their daughter. She placed the signed papers neatly on the desk, and then drove through the night back to the neighboring city. ***** After a night's rest, Teresa went to the hospital early. The doctor on duty was her old college friend, Sylvia Morris, who knew some of Teresa's marital troubles. When Sylvia heard Teresa's decision to end the pregnancy, she was shocked. "This baby didn't come easy," Sylvia said. "Why let go now? Even if things are bad between you, you can keep the baby without the man." Teresa met Sylvia's gaze steadily, her voice firm. "Sylvia, a woman's true strength lies in making responsible choices about motherhood. What's more, my life matters too. The surgery will be this morning. This is my final decision." The Teresa of the past no longer existed. From this moment forward, she would reserve her love for herself and those who genuinely cared for her. Those who failed to love her deserved no place in her life. Chapter 5 That Chapter Has Closed When Teresa woke up, she found herself in a hospital bed. Sylvia checked on her and said, "Stay two more days before discharge. Then get proper rest at home." Teresa nodded. She had decided to take a full month off. Her body mattered, and she would treat it right. After Sylvia left, Teresa checked her phone. The screen showed no missed calls from Charles. Clearly, last night had meant nothing to him. But for Teresa, everything had changed. This painful realization finally freed her from endless emotional exhaustion and struggle. Out of habit, she opened the video app. Naomi's post appeared first, with a subtle suggestion that they might know each other. The video showed Naomi holding a child's hand. Even from behind, Teresa recognized Yolanda instantly. The caption simply read, [It feels good to be needed.] The familiar backdrop was unmistakably Joyacre Villa's living room. Teresa's lips twitched in automatic response, the ghost of a smile flickering briefly. Then she pressed down on the post and selected Not Interested. No longer would she be a silent witness to their lives. That chapter had closed for good. ***** After leaving the hospital, Teresa hired a live-in caregiver. She followed her doctor's advice carefully, resting at home for a full month. When the recovery period ended, she paid the caregiver. Then she changed into a simple dress, applied light makeup, and drove straight to Riverdale. It was the 15th, their usual day to try for another baby. Teresa never really enjoyed being with Charles. He always rushed through it, eager to get back to Naomi. But tonight wasn't about having a child. Tonight, she would seriously tell him she wanted a divorce. Teresa reached Brocade Villa around 7 pm. Seeing her arrival, Barbara quickly set about making dinner. After the meal, Teresa headed upstairs to the study. On the desk sat the divorce papers, completely untouched, just like she had left them last month. Clearly, Charles hadn't come home the entire time. Teresa waited until past 9 pm, growing impatient. Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside. But when the door opened, it was only Barbara. "Mrs. Logan, Mr. Logan just called. He said he's busy tonight and won't be back. He told you to come back next month instead." Teresa laughed bitterly. She came back this month, but she wouldn't be coming next month. She was tired of being chained to this marriage. After a short pause, she stood and said to Barbara, "When he comes back, tell him I left something on the desk for him." Barbara nodded silently. Teresa grabbed her bag and walked out of Brocade Villa. With no destination in mind, she drove aimlessly through the city streets. Her hands moved automatically on the steering wheel until, without conscious thought, she found herself outside Riverdale Auditorium, where crowds of young people were pouring out after some event. The crowd gradually dispersed until only three figures remained. Charles and Naomi walked side by side, each holding one of Yolanda's hands. The three of them exchanged warm smiles, creating a picture of perfect happiness. Teresa froze at the sight. Yolanda swung Naomi's arm playfully and said in her sweetest voice, "Miss Naomi, you looked like a shining fairy up there. Your piano playing was wonderful. When I grow up, will you teach me too? Please, Miss Naomi?" Naomi stood glowing in a white evening dress, bright as a night-time star. She bent down to Yolanda's level with a kind smile, tapping the girl's nose gently. "If you want to learn," she laughed, "of course I'll teach you." Yolanda bounced excitedly, then looked up at Charles with shining eyes. "Daddy, Miss Naomi is the best, right?" Charles' eyes softened as he nodded, his expression full of pride and admiration. Yolanda grinned from ear to ear. "I wanna be just like Miss Naomi when I'm big." Teresa watched through the glass. She had never seen that look of love in her daughter's eyes. Marriage had consumed her completely. Over the years, she had given everything to her family, slowly losing herself in the process. To Yolanda, she was just the woman in the kitchen, while Naomi seemed like an unattainable angel. The realization struck like a knife to the heart. At the auditorium entrance, Yolanda suddenly bounced on her toes, arms stretched high. "Miss Naomi, pick me up!" Charles gently stepped between them, quietly noting Naomi's evening gown wasn't suitable for lifting a child. Yolanda's little face instantly clouded with disappointment. Naomi took in the scene. With a warm laugh, she swept Yolanda into her arms, shooting Charles a reassuring look. "Don't worry, I've got her," she said. Charles's stern expression melted into something tender as he watched them, his eyes glowing with quiet affection. Naomi carried Yolanda down the steps, the little girl nestling against her shoulder while Charles followed close behind, carefully gathering Naomi's gown to prevent it from dragging. The man who dominated corporate meetings now gently tended to a woman's dress. And just like that, the three settled into the car and vanished down the street. Teresa let out a bitter laugh. 'So this is what kept him busy.' She sat motionless in her car, staring blankly ahead, until her phone suddenly rang. The screen displayed Matthew Spencer's name. Matthew was her direct supervisor at the hospital. Though fully qualified in pediatric surgery, Teresa had to restart as a junior doctor after her four-year leave as a full-time mother. "Mr. Spencer," she answered politely. Matthew's voice came through clearly. "We're approving early completion of your training. You can return to regular hospital shifts next Monday." Teresa paused, then asked carefully, "What about that countryside program for kids' check-ups? I'd like to help out there." Matthew sounded surprised. "That's tough work with few career benefits. It's completely voluntary. The hospital isn't forcing anyone to go." But Teresa had made up her mind. "I'm willing to go, Mr. Spencer. Think of it as my working break." Hearing her unwavering resolve, Matthew stopped pressing the matter and approved a two-month placement. ***** A month flew by. Yolanda had settled well into preschool. With family pressure mounting after two straight failed months, Charles returned to Brocade Villa earlier than usual on the 15th. By 6 pm, Charles was already home. Barbara was surprised to see him return before Teresa. "You're early today, Mr. Logan?" she asked. Without answering the question, Charles made his way upstairs. "Send Teresa to the bedroom when she gets back," he instructed curtly. Barbara gave a slight nod, her eyes following him up the steps. Charles walked straight past the study. There was no reason to go anywhere else. His only reason for coming home was to try for another baby. After showering, he settled into bed to wait for Teresa. The hours dragged on from seven to eight to nine, yet Teresa remained absent. Just as his patience was wearing thin, footsteps finally sounded at the door. Chapter 6 Unanswered Calls The door opened. Charles flipped the light switch without thinking. The room was instantly engulfed in darkness. As he untied his robe, he said, "It's late. Let's begin. I've got things to do later." Light from the hallway crept in, barely illuminating the figure in the doorway. Barbara stiffened at Charles's words. "Mr. Logan, it's just me," she whispered, lingering nervously in the doorway. Charles was momentarily stunned. Realizing his mistake, he turned the light back on and looked at Barbara, his tone laced with confusion. "She hasn't returned yet?" Barbara's forehead glistened with sweat as she shook her head. "Not yet, Mr. Logan." The room's air turned leaden with tension. Noticing Charles's displeasure, Barbara added, "Mrs. Logan is normally home by six. Maybe something came up tonight?" Her voice trailed off uncertainly. Charles understood her kind intention but only replied with a terse, "Got it." When Barbara was about to remind him to sleep early, he abruptly sat up, leaving her words unspoken. Five minutes later, Charles changed his clothes and left Brocade Villa. Barbara saw him off downstairs, a nagging sense of forgetting something tugging at her. It wasn't until Charles's car disappeared from sight that she remembered Teresa had mentioned something in the study. Charles had just pulled out of Brocade Villa when his phone lit up with Naomi's call. "What's wrong?" he answered, his unusually gentle expression softened further by the dim interior light. Naomi's voice came softly through the phone. "Charles, I have an important performance tomorrow, but Yolanda's preschool is having Family Fun Day. I don't think I can make it." Charles didn't even consider asking Teresa first. "Teresa will go," he said, deciding for her like he always did. "Thank you," Naomi replied, her voice lifting with relief. "I've already discussed it with Yolanda. Would you mind passing the message along to Ms. Sullivan when you get a chance?" Charles said, "Don't worry. Just focus on your performance." Hanging up, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. After checking his call list for a long time, he still couldn't find Teresa's number. That was when he realized she hadn't called him in months. For years when Teresa stayed home with Yolanda, she called every day to ask if he would be home for dinner. He only occasionally returned, just to see their daughter. After they talked about having another baby, she still frequently called to check if he was coming home. He often ignored her calls, either hanging up or letting the phone ring. But when he needed to reach her, her number was right there in his phone. But now when Charles kept scrolling through his call log, her number was nowhere to be found. When he finally spotted it, the last call showed it was 3 months ago. Charles couldn't even remember if he had answered that one. Without hesitation, he dialed that number, only hearing an automated message saying the call could not go through. This had never happened before. Surprised, he tried again but got the same result. After several failed attempts, he finally gave up. He thought about video-calling Teresa on WhatsApp but couldn't find her contact. Left with no other option, he sent a text, [Yolanda has a Family Fun Day at her school tomorrow. She wants you there. East Street Preschool, at 2 pm.] With the message sent, Charles drove away. Charles assumed Teresa must be busy, which explained the missed calls. He was sure she would see the message and take Yolanda to the event. Content with this thought, he let his worries go. ***** At 9 pm, Teresa finished her evening shift at the village school. Exhausted, she trudged back to the teacher's dorm, washed up, and collapsed into bed. Her silenced phone lay untouched beside her. She didn't check it before falling asleep. The next morning, Teresa was awakened by a sound from her phone. Still half-asleep, she picked it up and saw it wasn't an alarm but a calendar reminder about her father-in-law's birthday tomorrow. In previous years, she would have woken up early to go to the morning market for groceries. Then she would spend the entire day cooking fancy dishes for the birthday dinner party. But this year was different. She decided not to do that anymore. After closing the reminder, she put down her phone and went back to sleep for a while longer. ***** Today was Friday. Teresa finished work at 2 pm. Before, she had only remembered her father-in-law's birthday, forgetting it was also her dad's special day. But this year, she would head back to her parents' house tonight and cook a hearty meal for her own family tomorrow. As for Charles's text, it had long been buried under a flood of notifications. ***** Teresa arrived at her parents' place at 6 pm, just in time for dinner. Walking into the living room, she saw the whole family were there. Monica Sullivan, deep in her puzzle, jumped when a figure appeared in the doorway. Squinting for a better look, she suddenly recognized her long-absent aunt. The puzzle pieces scattered as she sprinted across the room and clung to Teresa's legs. "Aunt Teresa, you're back!" Teresa dropped to her knees and gathered Monica into a fierce hug, pressing a kiss to the child's cheek. Words choked in her throat, her eyes stinging as she fought back tears. Monica locked her arms around Teresa's neck, smacking a loud kiss on her aunt's cheek. Then she yelled toward the kitchen, "Dad! Mom! Aunt Teresa's home!" Hearing the words, Theodore Sullivan and Yvonne Wesley emerged from the kitchen. Theodore's face lit up at first glimpse of Teresa, but the joy evaporated instantly. Noticing his stern expression, Yvonne gave him a subtle elbow nudge before turning to Teresa with a warm smile. "Just in time. Dinner's about to be served." Monica walked towards Yvonne, tugging her mother's sleeve. "Mom, Aunt Teresa's favorite is prosciutto. You said we had to save it till she visited. Now can we have some?" Yvonne tapped Monica's nose with a chuckle. "Such a greedy girl. Alright, we'll have some today." Monica squealed with delight, her tiny hands clapping and ponytails swinging wildly with every jump. Theodore kept his eyes averted from Teresa, his disapproval settling on Monica instead. "Don't waste your affection on those who don't appreciate it," he grumbled under his breath. Teresa's family had always loved her. But she threw herself into serving the Logans, never getting so much as a thank you. They took her for granted while her real family suffered. Actually, she was too ashamed to come back tonight. But she knew the love from her family was always there. Her brother and father might act tough, but they cared deeply. Her mother never stopped waiting for her. Her sister-in-law was always kind and understanding. And her niece was so adorable. It was time to hold on to those who really loved her. The coldness of the past was only worth leaving behind.

Chapter 1 Everly My pounding head spins as I look around at my surroundings, and I instantly regret drinking so much. Panic courses through me when I can’t immediately recognize my surroundings. I can tell I'm in a room; the light coming in through the window is blinding as I try to figure out where I am. The last thing I remember is the annual Alpha meet-up, a costume party I attended with my family. My sister and I snuck off to meet with the other future Alphas. My father always insists I need to 'get in good with them', seeing as I am next in line and will have the pack handed over to me at the end of the year when I turn eighteen. Yet, for the life of me, I can’t remember how I got into this room. I groan, rubbing my eyes and hoping I'm seeing shit properly—the alcohol burning in my system is still making me confused. When I try to roll over, though, suddenly, I become aware of the heavy arm draped over my waist. My head whips to the side, and I pray that the heavy arm belongs to my sister and that we have both passed out somewhere. But my worst fears are realized, and I try to contain my scream of horror when I find a naked man lying beside me. He isn’t just any man either, but the 'Blood Alpha' himself, Alpha Valen of the Nightshade Pack. This man owns half the city and is from a rival pack. My father is going to murder me if he finds out! “Fuck!” I whisper under my breath before looking down to find myself also naked. The slight discomfort between my legs makes me painfully aware that I tossed my virginity out the window and have absolutely no memory of it. So much for that being a magical moment. He must be a shit lay, I chuckle to myself. Of all people, it had to be him. My phone vibrates on the floor beside the bed, causing me to nearly dive off to retrieve it. My sister’s face pops up on the screen. I quickly answer it, whispering into the phone, mindful to keep my voice low. “Hello?” “Where are you? Dad is going to lose it. I told him you’re with me, but he's asked me to come home!” she shrieks through the phone. I glance around before looking out the window, trying to figure out my location. Shit. I realize I’m still at the hotel where the Alpha meet was held. “Still at the Banks Hotel,” I whisper, and she pauses, going quiet for a few moments. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t fuck Alpha dickwad?” she whispers, knowing Dad will kill me—probably even disown me—if he ever finds out. Alpha Valen’s reputation is scandalous and terrifying. I look over at the Greek God lying in bed beside me, completely passed out and unaware of me standing gawking at him. I would love to see the horror on his face when he wakes up, but he just might get in line behind my father and kill me, too. Shit, they may even conspire together to make my death exceptionally horrific. “No, of course not. I just fell asleep in one of the rooms here, completely alone,” I lie, hoping Ava believes me. I won’t get her caught up in my minor issue if Dad asks her; she sucks at lying. She doesn’t know she can’t get in trouble because of me. “Shut it. If Dad asks, tell him you stayed with Amber and me. I'll have Amber pick you up on the way; be there in five,” she says, hanging up. I quickly look around, scooping my clothes up off the floor and squeezing into the skin-tight little dress. I toss the stupid-ass fairy wings in the trashcan in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I try to fix my makeup—my face is still covered in ridiculous amounts of glitter, and the eye mask that was painted on my face by my sister still conceals half my face. I chuckle to myself, knowing the Alpha will probably wake up just as confused as me and wonder why he is covered in glitter. I vaguely remember talking to him, finding myself drawn to him for some reason. But now, as I gaze upon his paralyzed form, I can’t help but wonder who took advantage of whom. I give him one last glance, scoop up my heels, and grab my clutch purse before rushing to the hotel door and swinging it open, only to crash straight into Alpha Valen’s Beta. I smack into his chest, and he stumbles back, staring at me. I recognize him from last night’s introductions, though thankfully, he seems to have no idea who I am, as I was at the back of the room when he was introduced. I'm grateful for the paint on my face because he might have recognized me as my father’s daughter without it, which is the last thing I need. He smirks at me, clearly finding it funny that I am running from the Alpha’s hotel room. “My Alpha in there?” he asks. I drop my head, hoping he doesn’t recognize me, and quickly nod. I step past him, trying not to touch him. “Are you alright, or do you need a ride home?” he asks, making me stop. “What, do you give all your Alpha’s one-night stands a ride home?” I chuckle at him, and he smiles. “Only the pretty ones,” he says, and I roll my eyes, waving him off before taking off to meet my sister. We need to hurry home before my dad sends out a search party to run through Mountainview City to retrieve his daughters. *** Three weeks later One night. That was all it took to throw away everything I have ever known. I knew something was wrong when I felt a bit under the weather for more than a few days. Werewolves rarely get sick. Finally, after spending the last week ill, my father—Alpha of Shadow Moon Pack—had dragged me off to see the pack doctor. Our home, Mountainview City, is entirely populated by werewolves, comprising four packs. My father’s pack is the second-largest pack, which means we're held in fairly high esteem in the area. Plus, the fact that he only has two daughters means that I, as the eldest, am next in line. Well, I was until the Doctor returned to the exam room after running some tests and turned that dream upside down. The look of disappointment on my father’s face makes my heart clench. One night, one man turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. “She is pregnant.” I feel my heart sink into my stomach. No, I can’t be. I only had sex once, and I don’t even remember because I was trashed. How the hell could this be happening? My father casts a stunned look at me from where he sits before returning his gaze to our pack doctor. “It’s wrong; rerun the test. She hasn’t found her mate. She can’t be pregnant,” my father says. I shrink back in my chair. I'm only seventeen, nearly eighteen, and the number one rule all she-wolves have drummed into our heads is to save ourselves for our mates. This is a huge deal, especially to my father. This would bring shame to our family, that I would break the one sacred rule for she-wolves. Sure, the men fool around (a little bias, anyone?) Yet if we do it—especially someone like me in a position of power—it's frowned upon. I would be a disgrace to the family. “Alpha, I have tested the urine sample twice,” Doc Darnel tells him, but my father shakes his head, not believing his words—or not wanting to. “No, test it again; it is wrong. My daughter is not a rogue whore,” he says, finality in his voice. I cringe at his words: a woman who falls pregnant to someone who is not their mate. It's the worst thing to be labeled besides a traitor, though they're treated the same. Rogue whores are forbidden on pack lands, only allowed on neutral territory: the main drag of the city and the two streets behind it on either side. Most she-wolves that fall pregnant in other cities are banished like they do with those that betray or commit treason among the packs; forsaken wolves. Without any pack contact, they turn feral, sending them crazed and mad, and are forced to live outside the cities. No one wants to be on their own out there. It isn’t safe, and not how anyone wants to live. Our city is different. We don’t banish women from the city. Our treatment is slightly more… humane, I guess you could say. Instead, we just make them rogues, free to go about their lives but without pack help. I used to look down on them—those women I would see trying to make ends meet for their 'poor choices.' Maybe this is my karma; I will soon be one of them. Running through this scenario in my head, the room starts to feel like it's running out of air. I wonder if I'm going to pass out. “Yes, Alpha, I will test it again,” Doc Darnel says before rushing out of the room and away from my father’s deadly glare. My father starts pacing, and my heart rate quickens when he stops, turning to face me. “He has to be wrong; you are not like that. You wouldn’t shame me this way,” he says, looking for confirmation. I shrink back in my chair. The Doc coming back in again stops him from saying more. “The results are the same, Alpha,” Doc says before looking at me with pity. I swallow, staring wide-eyed at the pack doctor, hoping he can save me from my father’s wrath, but even I know the elderly, graying man is no match for my father. Neither am I since I still haven’t shifted. After shifting on our eighteenth birthday, we can find our mates. I have seen friends and family go through it. It is considered sacred. I wonder, terrified, how much being pregnant will delay the process. Bodies can’t shift while pregnant; it is a safety mechanism to protect the unborn pup. My father growls, turning on his heel and glaring at me, his fists clenched by his sides as he fights the urge to shift. Often, werewolves shift when they lose their temper or are preparing for a fight. Despite how hard he's trying, he's still barely holding back, his eyes starting to flicker black and his body trembling in his anger. My father has always been so proud of my sister and me, always showing us off and telling everyone about what great daughters we are and what a great Alpha I will be when I take over the pack. I look like him—dark hair and bluish-gray eyes, I got those traits from him—and he raised me in his image, preparing me to take over. But right now, with my face mirrored in his wolf's black orbs, he looks on the verge of killing me. I have never seen him so angry in his life, and that is saying something. “How far along is she?” Father asks. The venom in his words makes my blood run cold. “We can have an ultrasound done next week to confirm gestation,” Doc tells him, and I look at my hands. “No, do it now so we can take care of it before word gets out. I won’t have a rogue whore for a daughter. This is not to get out, do you understand, Doc?” Doc nods his head nervously. Vaguely, I notice my mouth is hanging open as I stare, absolutely gobsmacked at what my father just said. It's going against the Moon Goddess to abort a baby! “Wait!” I say, finally finding my voice. My father looks at me and the Doc moves away from him when he feels my father’s aura rush out. “Wait for what? You aren’t keeping this monstrosity. We can sweep it under the rug, no one has to know, and you can still take the Alpha position; we just need to take care of this poor choice, and then things can go back to normal,” my father says. He makes it sound so simple like this isn’t a sin against the Moon Goddess. “No. I can’t do that, Father. Please, just let me speak with Mom. We can work this out,” I plead with him. “No, you will terminate the pregnancy, then we go home. Doc, get whatever it is you need. I am not leaving this office until this is taken care of,” my father says. I feel tears brimming at his words. Sure, I don’t want to be pregnant, but I am not a murderer; aborting a pregnancy is worse than having a child with someone who is not your mate. “Alpha, I am afraid if your daughter isn’t willing, I can’t perform such a thing unless there is a medical reason.” “She is willing, isn’t that right, Everly?” my father says, trying to force me to agree, but I meet his gaze head-on. My mind is made up; I won’t go through with it. “No!” I tell him, not expecting his following reaction. In all my life, my father has never hit me, never raised a hand to me, and the shock of his action is more painful than the blow itself as his hand connects with the side of my face. I can feel the outline of his fingers etched into my cheek as a burning sensation spreads across it from his palm. “Then you are no longer my daughter,” he says and walks out of the room. Chapter 2 Eight months later Loved ones come and visit the other mothers on the ward, gushing in excitement over their new bundles of joy, eagerly discussing their new additions to the family. The woman across from me is being doted on by her mate. The support he is showing her, the comfort, makes my heart twist painfully, knowing no one is excited to meet my son. No one is coming to check on me or offer support. No one cares for the boy suckling at my breast. Nobody is coming. It is just him and me against the world. But that is ok. I will make it work. The labor was excruciating. It was thirty-four hours and forty-five minutes of pure agony and no comfort, not even from the midwives. They were nothing but rude and mean, telling me to quit crying as I begged them to make the pain stop. I had never felt so vulnerable or alone as when I was in labor. It was hard enough to grow up with the expectations of being the Alpha’s daughter, but then I got pregnant, shunned, and stripped of my title. All for one night. That one night turned my life upside down. How could he throw away his flesh and blood, his own daughter, over her falling pregnant? How could anything so tiny and sweet be called a mistake? Hearing the nurse come in, I look up. She grabs my chart from the end of the bed, looking it over before eyeing me. Glasses teeter on the end of her upturned nose. No one tries to hide their disgust; everyone looks down on me because I had a child with someone who isn’t my mate. That much is evident, that I have no mate because where is he? Not here beside me like the rest of those new mothers on the ward—my mate isn’t here gushing over this newborn baby in my arms. “You really have no idea who the father is?” she asks, clicking her tongue. I know exactly who the father is, but the last thing I need is for him to hunt me down. I already had that run-in. A run-in I would much rather forget when I told him I was carrying his child. He didn’t even remember me. Doesn’t help that he's a rival pack Alpha. It's just easier pretending I don’t know. The shame I have brought my family for being pregnant is bad enough; my father would have killed me for the disrespect of foolishly getting into bed with the Blood Alpha. I watch the nurse flick her red curly hair over her shoulder. “He is cute; shame his mother is a whore,” she sneers, and I see the points of her canines pressing beneath her gums as they protrude past her lips. “Can I get some Tylenol?” I ask, ignoring her comment. I'm feeling a headache coming on. Besides, I've received multiple comments along the same lines since being here—I don’t feel the need to defend myself; there is no point. Nothing I say will make them look at me any differently. “Sorry, can’t. It is not on your charts,” she says. “It’s Tylenol. It’s not like I am asking for morphine,” I tell her. “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t on your charts, so you will have to go without,” she says, dropping the chart on the table beside me. Most women heal directly after giving birth, but I haven’t shifted yet, so I have no such healing ability. “Can I get something to eat at least?” I ask her. I am starving, and breastfeeding is making me ravenous. “You came into the maternity ward after the dinner rounds, and breakfast is at 7 a.m.,” she tells me. I look at the clock and see it is only just after 8 p.m. I nod, knowing this nurse will not help in any way. Crap, every nurse here is horrible because of my situation. Sometimes, I wish I could leave this city, pretend to be human, and just go about my life with my son. The nurse leaves, stopping at the blue curtain that divides the beds. “Did you even think of the repercussions for the father by having a child with someone who isn’t your mate? Did you think of the poor woman who finds her mate in him and one day learns he fathered an illegitimate child to some random she-wolf?” Little did she know that I thought of that every day since learning I was pregnant, but it was his choice, too. I fight back the tears from her words as I stare down at my amber-eyed boy; those eyes are definitely from his father, from what I can remember at least. Mine are light bluish-gray. I've just put my son down after he fell asleep in my arms when I see a nurse walk past. She stops and comes over to me when I wave to her. Her uniform is different; she must be the head midwife or someone higher up on the staff list. Long, pencil-straight hair hangs to her shoulders, slightly obscuring her name tag. I try to read the small writing under her name—Rita—but I can't quite make it out. She must be in her mid-twenties because she seems closer to my age. Well, not really. I am barely eighteen, but still, she looks nicer than the previous nurses. She picks up my chart, flicking through it. “Is there somewhere I can get some water? Or maybe a cup of tea?” I ask, and she glares at me. My stomach drops. Maybe she isn’t so lovely after all. She presses the buzzer behind my head, calling another nurse, yet she still hasn’t answered me. My son starts to stir, and I reach over and grab him out of his crib as another nurse comes in, my stomach cramping from the sudden movement. “Why is she in here?” the head nurse asks, making me look at her. I just had a baby. Why else? I think to myself. The new nurse looks over at me. Her hands tremble slightly—this head midwife obviously instills fear in her colleagues. “Get her to the unmated section. We don’t need her disturbing the mothers in this ward,” the woman says before turning her nose up at me and walking out. Turns out, Rita is a bitch, like the rest of them. I stare, disgusted by this hospital’s bedside manner. The girl in the curtained-off room beside me speaks. “I knew something was up with her, Hun; her mate never visited her. No one has. Now I know why,” she says to her mate. She's right. We are allowed one person with us constantly while in here. The girl next to me, her mate hasn’t left her side since I got here. The person across from me had multiple people come in during the night, and her mate also hasn’t left. I try to ignore their mates gushing over them and tending to their every need while I sit here, getting nothing but sneers and judgment. The bed moves as the nurse begins rolling me out of the room. Because I am sitting upright, I have to grab the bar that runs along the side to stop from falling back. She wheels me through the maternity ward before going down a corridor; I appear to be leaving the maternity unit altogether. The nurse finally stops at a curtained-off area and places the bed against the wall. The woman then turns on her heel and leaves. “Wait, can I get some water?” But she has already gone and didn’t even acknowledge my question. “I wouldn’t bother. They won’t help us,” comes a voice before someone jerks the partitioning curtain away to reveal two other girls. One looks to be in her mid-twenties with long, curly dark hair and sparkling green eyes. The other girl is around sixteen, with her dark blonde hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head. “My name is Macey,” the oldest of them says. “Hi. Everly,” I reply. “Her name is Zoe. Welcome to the shunned mothers club,” Macey chuckles before looking down at her baby. She sighs heavily. “Don’t expect them to help; they won’t. Seriously, you’re best off getting out as soon as you can,” Macey tells me. “But they are supposed to,” I tell her, feeling disheartened. “Yeah, I have been here two days; baby has a few problems. Half the time, they don’t answer when I buzz, and forget about them feeding you. I haven’t received anything since being here,” Macey explains before reaching to the foot of her bed and pulling a bag toward her. She rummages through it before pulling out a granola bar. “Here. You must be starving. I was, and I came prepared expecting this,” Macey explains. “You had a baby before?” I ask, unable to imagine going through this again. She shakes her head. “No, this is my first. My mom was a single mother, too. We are rogues like you,” she says. I open the granola bar, my stomach growling at the sight of food. “Boy or girl?” I ask the younger girl, who seems rather shy. “Girl. Yours?” “Boy,” I tell her. “Thanks,” I tell Macey before biting into the granola bar. “Plenty in there, just help yourself. I brought extras in case there were other girls. Which pack are you from? Your aura feels quite strong for a rogue?” she says, staring at me. “Alpha blood,” I tell her. Her eyebrows raise in shock. “In that case, you don’t have to tell me. I understand why you would want to keep that to yourself. Zoe was born rogue—so was I,” she says, and I glance at Zoe, who nods. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you girls living? Are there any refuges or anything for women?” “I have a place at a refuge. But I know it’s full to capacity,” Zoe says, a look of sorrow etching her face as if she wishes she could help more. “Me? I live with my mom and my brother,” Macey tells me. “Where are you staying? No family would help?” Zoe asks. I shake my head. “No. We will be alright. I will come up with something,” I tell them, hoping that will be true, though I have been living in my busted station wagon, which cost me $500 for the last eight months. It saddens me that we are pushed aside, but the next day, both girls help me, for which I am grateful. Macey continues to share her food, and she was right—not once did anyone come to check on us, no food was brought to us, nothing. Shunned for having a baby, and we suddenly don’t matter anymore. Chapter 3 Two weeks later Tap, Tap, Tap. I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in before he moves it around, looking in the back. I put my hand up when the light flashes across my face, blinding me. He quickly moves it to the side. “Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle-aged man tells me; he must be city security, judging by his uniform. My son—who I decided to name Valarian—stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his flashlight away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops. “Look, I've noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station.” He sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him. “You really have no place to go? No family?” he asks. “No, the council kicked me out of the park,” I say matter-of-factly. He sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot. “What about the baby’s father?” I shake my head, knowing that isn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me about the pregnancy—refused to see me, even when I begged him to let me show him the ultrasound pictures. Every time I tried to call after that, he hung up the moment he heard my voice. After a while, I gave up. “You know there are people out there that would take him—then you could probably go home.” “I am not abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him, outraged he would even suggest it. “This is no life for a child. You’re young. If you give him up, you could have a normal life. Something to think about: I will give you another week to find somewhere else. After that, you need to move on,” he says, and I nod before winding the window up. I watch him leave before settling my son and putting him back to bed in the fruit box beside me—I have always been paranoid about accidentally rolling on him while asleep. Tugging the blanket up over both of us, I try to get comfortable. Yet, all I can think is. This is not how I intended to bring my son into this world. I thought it would be different and that I would have figured out something by now. A single tear runs down my cheek as I think of his words. “This is no life for a child.” Am I being selfish? However, the thought of giving him up breaks my heart. He is mine. I loved him and would give my life for my little man. Isn’t that enough? I can’t deny the bond between us. *** Waking up the following day, I groan; it is pouring with rain. It's still early. I rummage through the back for my umbrella before slipping my shoes on. Making sure Valarian is bundled nice and warm, I grab my empty bucket in one hand and pop the umbrella up as I open the hatchback. Sliding the bucket to the crook of my elbow, I raise the umbrella with the same hand. I then pick up my son in my free arm and make a run for it to the train station bathrooms, paying extra care not to slip on the wet ground. That would be disastrous. Once I get into the large, handicapped stall, I shove the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hate about being homeless is holding my son while going to the bathroom. I can’t place him down anywhere, making it hard to use the toilet while making sure not to drop him. When I finish, I slide my pants up with one hand, which is difficult while holding my son, then awkwardly wash my hand before turning the faucet off. Now the tricky part—holding an umbrella, a newborn, and a now-full bucket of water. Somehow, I manage it and make it back to the car before placing the bucket down and quickly opening the hatchback to my wagon. I crawl in and set my son in his bed before hauling my tiny bucket in. Lathering my washcloth with soap, I give him a wash down before dressing him in a clean diaper and clothes so he's all nice and fresh for the day. Using the remaining water, I also give myself a wash, longing for a shower. Gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I use the rest stop ones occasionally, but right now, I have no fuel to get there and can’t risk spending my limited funds. When mom and dad kicked me out, I had a small amount of savings. I also worked at the Chinese restaurant on the main street while pregnant to keep saving. The savings didn’t last long with buying baby clothes and non-perishable food, though. And now that he's born, I've been spending money on diapers. Not to mention, since my milk dried up from stress and lack of nutrition before I left the hospital, I am forced to stock up on formula and bottled water too. My car looks like a mini supermarket, but I am starting to get low on the formula again. Rummaging through my wallet, I find my last $100. I need to think of something fast. This won’t see us through much longer. Sighing, I lean back on my door, watching the rain. The restaurant won’t take me back—I tried that—and my parents obviously aren’t an option. His father wouldn’t even let me on pack territory when I requested to see him. I still remember when I got his number to call him that first time; what a nightmare that was. He laughed and said there was no way he would sleep with a seventeen-year-old. To be fair, I was not supposed to be in that part of the club at the hotel. My sister and I wanted to meet the older Alphas, not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty. So with fake IDs, we snuck in while the meeting was going on in the conference hall. Alpha Valen was just as drunk as I was, so it's no wonder he can’t remember me. I barely remember anything. What I do remember is how I felt that night—the pull to him for some reason—and he must have felt it too. I know I didn’t imagine it. Shaking the vague memory away, I grab a granola bar and start eating. My belly is rumbling. Oh, what I would do for a home-cooked meal. I love mom’s cooking. She's the best cook! A tear slips down my cheek and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My father had it disconnected, but I like to look at the photos of when I was still part of the family. I miss my little sister—I wish I could see her, even just once more. I spend most of the day just trying to figure out what I can do about money. The security guard’s words eat at me. “This is no life for a child.” I am failing. I need help and don’t know who to ask. When it starts to get dark, the five o’clock train pulls in. I try to light my candle so I can see in the growing darkness, but my lighter has finally run out of fuel. Popping the trunk to get out, I grab my umbrella and glance around, hoping to find someone smoking—someone approachable—to ask to borrow one. “Excuse me, do you have a…” The man in his tailored suit walks past, looking down at me. I try over and over again, ignored by everyone that passes. Feeling disheartened, I'm about to hop back in the car when I see a younger man in a neat suit. I've seen him a few times. He catches the early train and is always home on the five o’clock train. He's always dressed nicely in suits that compliment his brownish-blond hair and green eyes, and his muscular build puts him a good foot taller than me. The man stares at me warily as I approach, and I stop when I feel his aura—he has Beta blood. He looks familiar for some reason and I finally place him; he is one of the Betas from the Alpha meet. He's Beta to Alpha Valen. I pretend I don’t recognize him because he definitely doesn’t remember me, and I know he can’t feel my aura. I've been rogue for so long now, my aura is almost nonexistent. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t shifted. I want to, need to, but what do I do with my son? “Can I borrow a lighter if you have one?” I blurt out quickly before he waves me away; everyone usually assumes I'm asking for money. He stops, staring at me for a second. “Fine,” he says, rustling inside his pocket before handing me a green lighter. I run back to the car and light the candle that sits on a plate in my vehicle. Only, when I turn around, I find him behind me, having followed me the few yards back to my car. I jump, not expecting him to be so close. “Thank you,” I tell him, passing it back. He nods, then begins to leave, walking around the side of my car just as my son cries out. Chapter 4 “Shh, shh, I’m coming,” I whisper, pulling the hatchback down until something stops it. I turn to see what it caught on, only for it to be pulled open by the Beta. “Is that a baby you have in there?” he asks, and my heart thunders in my chest nervously. Will he call child services on me? My son cries louder, and I reach for him. The man’s eyes dart to him before he sniffs the air. I stare back at him, confused, and tug my son to my chest as if he’s threatening to take him away from me. “It’s only temporary; please don’t call child services,” I tell him, and he cocks his head to the side. His gaze appears to be more thoughtful than scrutinizing. “Does your car run?” he asks, looking at it before he kicks a tire. “I have no fuel. I will leave tomorrow, I promise,” I tell him, panicking. Maybe he's a council worker? I doubt it because of his expensive suit. He looks at me, his nose scrunching slightly. “You smell familiar,” he mutters. I swallow, wondering if he remembers me, but he doesn’t appear to, and I also don’t want him questioning which pack I was from. My father and his Alpha are not on good terms. Yet, maybe if he could get me in to see Alpha Valen, he might help with his son. However, that thought also frightens me—having to face the man who ignored me and refused to even do a DNA test. He declined to come check—stating my claims were lies—but if he just met him, he would see. We can always sense our kin. I stare at the Beta, wondering if he'll leave, but he pushes the hatchback open further before reaching in. I scoot further back, looking for a weapon in case I need it. “Calm down. I can’t leave you here knowing you are sleeping in your car with a baby,” he says, grabbing the car seat. “I will leave; just don’t take my son,” I tell him. He looks at me like I am mad. “I’m not.” And his eyes mean it. “I want to help.” He’s being sincere. “You want to help?” I repeat, slightly disbelieving. I must have heard that wrong. “Come on, you can stay at the packhouse until I speak to my Alpha,” he says, waving me forward. “Grab a change of clothes. We can come back to your car tomorrow,” he says. Terrified, I don’t move. It's been so long since anyone has helped me. He sighs before grabbing a bag and stuffing a can of formula, the diaper bag, and some of my clothes inside the bigger bag. “Come on, wouldn’t you rather have a warm house than a cold car?” he asks. I look down at my son, wondering if I should trust him. He grabs the car seat. I climb out, and he hands me my umbrella before shutting my trunk. “This way,” he says, walking to his car. I follow him to his electric blue sports-looking car. I always wondered why he doesn’t drive to work. And why would he leave such an expensive car at a train station? He puts the seat in before scratching his head. “You know how to clip it in?” he asks, and I nod. “Okay, you put it in, and I will hold your…” His eyes dart to my son. “Son,” I tell him, and he nods, holding out his arms for him. He takes him from me, and I lean in, making sure to keep an eye on him while I clip the seat in before turning around. Retrieving the baby, I clip him in his chair before climbing in beside him. The Beta then passes me the bag before shutting my door. He turns the heater on when he hops in before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Your son has odd-colored eyes—reminds me of my Alpha’s. He is the only person I know with amber eyes besides his father,” he says. I look at the man, and he looks away, looking back at the road. He definitely has his father’s eyes, but I keep my mouth shut. Though maybe this would be my chance, he would be able to tell if he saw his own son. We can sense our own family, plus their resemblance is unmistakable. “Who is your Alpha?” I ask, pretending I don’t know. “Valen, the Blood Alpha,” he says, his eyes darting to mine in the mirror again, gauging my reaction to his words. I feel excitement bubble in me, knowing I am correct in who he is. “He will be fine with you bringing a rogue into the territory?” I ask him. “He won’t be there, and I will speak with him tomorrow. Are you hungry?” he asks, and my belly rumbles loudly at the mention of food. He chuckles at the noise. “I will take that as a yes,” he says, and my face heats. I give my son his binky, his amber eyes peering at me in the darkness of the car. “What’s your name?” “Everly,” I answer him. “Odd name. What pack were you from, or were you born rogue?” “No, I was in a pack,” I answer. I refuse to tell him which one; it's no secret my family’s pack and the Blood-Alpha are constantly at war. “Your name? I can tell you have Beta blood,” I tell him. “Marcus, and yes, I am Valen's Beta,” he says before pulling into a drive-thru. I grab my wallet. “I don’t want your money,” he says before ordering for himself. "What do you want?" I don’t say anything, feeling awkward, so he orders two of the same thing. “Is he asleep?” he asks, and I look at my son. I nod as he pulls up to the next window. “Climb in the front,” he says, which makes me look at my son again, worried. “I don’t bite, climb over,” he says while patting the passenger seat. I unclip my seatbelt before climbing over into the front. Placing the seatbelt on quickly, I notice that he doesn’t have a mark on his neck; he hasn’t found his mate yet. A bite on the neck always means that anyone, man or woman, has been “marked” by their mate. He opens some cupholders and places the drinks in them before passing me a paper bag. “You can eat in the car,” he says. I thank him and I open his burger box for him, letting him take it out. Marcus pulls over on the side of the road before flicking the interior light on so we can see before turning in his seat to face me. “Eat. I won’t hurt you.” I open the burger box, the smell making my stomach melt. My hands are shaking as I retrieve the burger. “Are you cold?” he asks, turning the heat up. I nod my head. It's a lie. I was fine in the car; it's the fact I haven’t eaten a hot meal in ages or even just actual food that isn’t canned spaghetti or granola bars. I bite into the burger and a sob nearly escapes my lips; I am quick to suppress it so he doesn't hear. I chew slowly, savoring the taste and the warmth. Looking up, I see that he is watching me while eating his burger. I blush feeling embarrassed that he is staring. He must think I am pathetic. I feel pathetic accepting a stranger's help, and almost crying over a damn burger. “Thank you,” I tell him while taking a sip of the cold Coke. It fizzes in my throat and on my tongue but tastes so good. “Where is your family?” he asks curiously. “He is my only family,” I tell him, looking at my son. “They tossed you, didn’t they, for being unmated?” I swallow, looking down. “My mother was a single mother, not a rogue, though. My dad died and she raised me alone. She struggled, but she had the pack. Must be hard having no one to help at all,” he says. I don’t say anything. What can I say? I am the disgraced daughter of an Alpha? We eat in silence, and for the first time in ages, I feel full, yet still, he hands me his fries, telling me to eat them before starting the car again. After twenty minutes of driving, I realize we're getting close to my old pack when he turns onto a road going in the opposite direction. It takes another twenty minutes of driving through his territory before he pulls up at a large, three-story house. I can hardly see through the darkness of the night, but I can tell it's modern-looking. “Are you okay? Stepping across didn’t make you feel sick?” I shake my head. It's odd. Usually, rogues feel sick crossing a border, but I don’t. “Huh. Odd,” he mutters. “Are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?” I ask a little nervous about being in pack territory when I am a rogue. “Yeah, no one is here, and you can stay in my room tonight; I have pack patrol, so I won't be home.” I nod. “The Alpha won’t mind?” I ask. “Na, he won’t even know until I see him tomorrow. He's in the city partying tonight; you will have the place to yourself,” he says, opening his door. I climb out before walking around the car and grabbing my son. Marcus places my bag over his shoulder and puts his hand on my lower back, showing me to the front door. I watch as he unlocks the door before motioning for me to enter. Chapter 5 Stepping inside, Marcus flicks on the hallway light, and I can finally see better. The entire place is spotless. White marble floors and a massive staircase lead up to the next level. I can’t see in the rooms off the side of the foyer; he didn't turn those lights on, but if the foyer is anything to go by, the rest of the house must be breathtaking. It is way over the top; nothing I wouldn’t expect of the Blood Alpha. They are the wealthiest pack and have half the city under their claim. “This way,” he says, motioning for me to follow. I trail after him up two flights of stairs before he stops at a black door. He pushes it open to reveal a king-size mahogany bed with a canopy. Matching furniture and a large black rug sit on the floor. Built into the wall is a flat-screen TV, and he turns it on before turning the volume down a bit. To one side, I can also see a door leading to a balcony. “Obviously, I don't have a crib, but the bed is comfy, and the bathroom is through those doors. It's shared with Alpha Valen's room next door, but I'm sure he won't be by tonight. He'll probably stay at his apartment in the city. Towels are in there, and I will be back to check on you at 6 a.m. I'll take you to see the Alpha then,” he says before heading into the walk-in closet and grabbing some clothes for himself. “The Kitchen is downstairs if you're hungry, and I'll see you later,” he tells me before walking out the door. I look around for a moment, then flick the space heater on to warm the room. “This is nice, Bubba. And tomorrow, you can meet your father,” I whisper to him. I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. There’s no way the Alpha can deny his son once he meets him. He'll know with just one look at him that he is his. He'll be able to sense that. Finally, things were looking up. I’d have help, well, maybe not me, but I know he’ll provide for his son. Walking into the bathroom, I gasp. It's white marble and white tiles with a gold finish. One wall is all mirrors above the basin, and the shower could easily fit three people. But the most exciting part is that the sink is the perfect size to bathe Valarian. He hasn’t taken a proper bath since the hospital. I just know he’ll love it. I instantly start prepping the sink with warm water, using my elbow to test it before stripping his clothes off and settling him in the water while ensuring I hold his head above the water. He moves his arms and legs, swishing the water and murmuring happily while eating his hands. I chuckle watching him splash. Once the water gets cool, I get him out. I drain the water and wrap him in a towel before patting him dry and laying him on the bed while I dress him. After his bottle, he falls asleep quickly, almost like he knows he’s safe here. I prop pillows around him to ensure he doesn't fall off the bed before walking back to the bathroom, leaving the door open so that I can hear him. After quickly stripping my clothes off, I turn the shower on and step under the warm spray. Marcus didn't mention using the bath products, but I assume it is okay, and use the shower gel and shampoo to give myself the deepest wash I’ve had in what feels like a year. Halfway through wrapping the fluffy towel around myself, I suddenly hear voices, drunken stumbling, a woman giggling, and I freeze. Someone is here. I snatch my clothes off the sink basin and am about to run into Marcus's room when the bathroom door opens and a beautiful red-haired woman walks in wearing a skimpy dress. She stops when she notices me. Her extremely tight dress leaves little to the imagination, and she is clearly intoxicated, as a cloud of alcohol wafts in after her. She looks me up and down before growling at me, her top lip pulling back over her teeth. “What are you doing in here, rogue?” she barks. “I… Beta Marcus… He said.” My heart thumps wildly in my chest. Stuttering, I attempt to explain when the door is shoved open, and a man storms in. No, not a man, the blood Alpha. He also reeks heavily of whiskey, the smell so strong it burns my nose, yet I can’t tear my eyes from his amber ones. He is absolutely gorgeous, even while heavily intoxicated and barely able to stand upright. He's tall, too, and way bulkier than I remember, with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow. But his eyes, those eyes I can’t look away from. They glow like the embodiment of autumn. It feels like someone fried my brain to a crisp, and all I can do is stare, my brain screaming at me, my senses overloaded with his essence. Mate! The blood Alpha. He's. My. Mate. I know it, feel it, with every fiber of my being, even without having shifted yet. I am of age now, and I feel my heart flutter excitedly. I’ve found my mate! Taking a step toward him, I reach out to him, but his lips pull back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines. His face, his gorgeous face, is twisted in anger. I gasp, realizing he's too intoxicated to recognize me. Instead, he rushes toward me. His hands grab my throat, and he pushes me against the cold, tiled wall. “What the fuck is a rogue doing in my house!” he screams before sniffing me. I can’t talk; his grip is tight, restricting my airway. He sniffs me again before shaking his head. Then he shoves me back before commanding me. “Get out of my house now before I have you killed!” he roars, and my stomach sinks somewhere deep inside me. He can't recognize me. I could just as easily be some random rogue whore off the street to him with how drunk he is. However, he keeps sniffing the air, his body telling him something is amiss. It’s just that his brain cannot register me at all. My heart sinks. The woman behind him is clearly enjoying this confrontation; probably hoping he'll kill me; a rogue on pack land. I never should have come here. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Not even my own mate will help me. This was my only chance at showing him that he's a father, and now it just went out the window. “Wait, but, you're my–” I plead desperately. “Get out!” he screams, and I flinch, his Command rolling over me. I snatch my clothes from where I dropped them, rushing into Marcus's room and pulling them on. As much as I desperately wish I could continue arguing, his Command leaves me powerless. And the more I fight it, the more it hurts. Alpha wolves, once they reach maturity, can use a certain voice, a Command, that the recipient must obey, by fighting it, the pain grows until they submit to it. “Come on, baby,” the woman purrs, clutching him. Tears brim in my eyes while I snatch my things up, unable to do anything against his Command, unable to explain myself. Wrapping my son in his blanket and tucking him against me, I grab my bag before rushing down the steps. Pain suddenly tears through me, taking my breath away. Clutching the banister, my stomach cramps, making me cry out and my legs buckle. I grit my teeth, agony tearing my heart apart. They’re obviously fucking. I’ve heard that women know when their mates are unfaithful—can feel it—but I got to meet him with another woman. I didn't think it would hurt like this; I never envisioned this pain when teachers explained. He hasn't even marked me. Running down the steps, I rush out the door. It's pouring with rain as a storm rolls across the night sky. And I am miles from my car, yet his Command told me to leave and gives me no choice. Looking around helplessly, I start running, pulling my son under my shirt to shield him from the cold. My legs are moving me with nowhere to go as I desperately try to figure out where to find shelter. I don't know how long I run for, but I suddenly find myself on the city's main street—the line separating Nightshade Pack from Shadowmoon Pack, my father's pack, my old territory. My old house is only a ten-minute run from here. Maybe he'll take pity on me; perhaps he might change his mind once he meets his grandson. I can only hope, at least for my son’s sake. I swallow, knowing I have no choice, or I'll be in the rain all night with a baby. Deciding to take my chances, I start running home. I run the entire way before stopping in front of my old home. The lights are all off. My heart twists as I look up the driveway of the single-story, lavish house. Growing up, I played with the pack kids in this street and rode my bike along the footpath with my sister. My father used to toss the football with us on this very lawn after work when we were little or help us climb the massive tree that sits on the side of the driveway. This was home. Standing here, I suddenly miss my old life, miss my family; I just hope they miss me too. Chapter 6 Quietly sneaking up the side of the house, I stop at my sister's bedroom window—she's asleep in her bed. I tap on the window and see movement; she flicks her lamp on, squinting around the room before looking at the window. Seeing me waving at her, Ava's mouth opens, and she's immediately on alert as she rushes over. As soon as she throws her window open, I pass her my bag, which she places on the floor before taking Valarian from me, so I can climb through the window. “Sis!” she cries, hugging me. I inhale her scent, tears flowing down my cheeks, before pulling back to look at her. I am soaked, absolutely drenched, my hair dripping from the rain, but she doesn't seem to notice. She clutches her mouth before a sob escapes her. “I was hoping you would come back.” She looks down at my son in awe. “He's beautiful,” she chokes out. I gently close the window as she hugs Valarian close, smelling his tiny head. “Gosh, I've missed you so much. Dad wouldn't let me look for you; he has me on a tight leash,” she says, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Grab some dry clothes, take whatever you want,” she whispers while pointing at her dresser. I rummage through her drawers and find some warm clothes, trying to be quiet so I don't wake my parents down the hall. After putting on some of her pajamas, I have to roll the waistband of the pants to hold them up. My sister watches me before she breaks down again. “You're so skinny,” she sobs, sinking onto her bed and looking at my body. She's right—you can see most of my ribs and my hip bones jut out. I've lost so much weight, this is the smallest I have ever been. “I'm fine, Ava. I'm okay,” I try to reassure her, rummaging through my bag to retrieve a diaper. Thankfully, between my shirt and the blanket that was wrapped around him, Valarian was able to stay dry. She just shakes her head, looking at my son as she rocks him. I sit next to her, and she moves over on the bed to give me space, leaning back against the wall. Together, we watch my son fall asleep in her arms. Laying my head down on her shoulder, I suddenly break down. Ava tries to soothe me, but I can feel her crying silently beside me. Ava was my best friend. It is almost impossible to beat a sister bond, someone who knows your hardships, knows what it's like to grow up with the parents you have, someone who shares every milestone with you and every heartbreak. How times have changed? I've missed having someone to talk to. The only interactions I’ve had were judgmental glares or a few words to show their disgust with me. Nobody asked how I was—nobody cared—and I was stupid enough to believe Beta Marcus would be able to help, stupid enough to think my mate would accept me. “How is mom?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. “She's okay; she asked Dad for a divorce when he kicked you out. But you know Mom, she would never leave him,” she tells me, and I nod. It's unheard of for mates to get divorced. The bond stops mates from being separated. It weakens them; two souls, together, or that's how it's supposed to be. Not for me, I guess. I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life feeling my mate whenever he's with another woman who isn’t me. I'm not looking forward to raising our son on my own or being alone. When Valarian stirs, I get up and grab his formula before realizing I have no bottled water. Ava passes my son to me before grabbing his bottle from my hand. “How much?” she whispers. “Four ounces,” I tell her, and she nods, opening the door just as my son cries out loudly. I try to muffle the noise and soothe him by giving him his binky, but he spits it out and lets out an ear-piercing scream. My sister stares at me in panic. Quickly, she tries to close the door, but within seconds it is thrown open and bangs against the wall, causing Valarian to scream even louder. My father storms in and his eyes instantly find me. A growl escapes him. I cower away, shielding my son. Ava gets between us, trying to shield me from my enraged father, but he shoves her out of the way before stalking toward me. “Please, Dad, please!” I beg. He grabs my hair, and I scream. So does my son in my arms as I try not to drop him. My reflexes want to pull his hands away; instead, I hold my son for dear life, letting my hair tug painfully from my scalp. “Mom! Mom!” Ava starts screaming frantically before I hear feet slapping on the tiles in the hall. “Please, Dad! Mom, help me! Mom, please!” I beg her when she rushes in, her mouth open in shock as my father starts dragging me toward the front door by my hair. My mother grips his arm, pleading with him. “John, please let her go; she has a baby in her arms.” He shoves her aside before dragging me down the hall to the front of the house. “Dad, please, it's raining outside,” Ava begs. My mother is also desperately trying to stop him. My father doesn't care; he growls at them, ignoring them and my cries. He's just opened the front door when my mother shoves him. “John! She is our daughter! Please,” she begs, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face. “That whore is not my daughter,” he growls, his canines protruding. “Dad, please, it's freezing outside,” Ava begs. “I said no! I will not have a rogue whore for a daughter!” he screams, his face turning red in his anger. “Then take him, please. I will stay outside; just don't put him out. Please, Dad, he's your grandson,” I choke out. He growls at me, his hand shoving me out the door. He's about to shut the door in my face when I try once more. “Please just look at him, Dad. He'll get sick. Just one night. Then I will leave,” I plead. My mother reaches for Valarian, but my father pushes her behind him. “John, at least let me take him! Let me take my Grandson!” my mother cries. He lets me go, looking down at my son before staring at my mother, who is sobbing, her hands outstretched for him. Those same hands that held mine when I was a little girl, now grasping the air for my son. “Give him to her, but you stay out. You aren't welcome in my house,” he says before walking off. My mother rushes over to grab Valarian before hugging me briefly. “I will watch him; I'll stay by the window,” she says, and I nod. “Ava has his baby bag,” I tell her. My sister clutches my fingers, nodding. Tears roll down her cheeks as her lips quiver. “It's okay, Ava. I will be fine,” I tell my sister behind her before my dad yells at them, making them jump. “I'm sorry, I have to,” my mother says, closing the door. I nod. The curtain in the living room opens, and the lamp flicks on. I see my sister rush off toward the kitchen, and my mother sits on the lounge with him next to the window, so I can see him. Leaning over, my mother cracks the window so she can speak to me. “He has your nose,” she says, smiling sadly at me, and I smile, sitting on the chair out front on the porch. I shiver; my sister’s flannel pajamas become soaked as the rain blows toward me where I sit, listening and watching my mother through the window feeding my son his bottle. At least he is warm and dry, I think to myself. Huddled up on the chair, I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to warm myself and shield myself from the cold and the strong gusts of wind. It doesn’t take long before I start shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth chatter so hard I feel like they'll break. My mother taps on the glass where my head rests—I can see her heartbreak at watching me sit in the cold, stormy weather. “Shift sweetie. Shift to try to stay warm,” she says, placing her palm on the glass. “I haven't shifted yet,” I tell her, and she looks at me sadly. Shifting is a big thing with werewolves; it is a coming of age. Your wolf is meant to represent your future in the pack. I haven’t shifted yet, but when I do, it will not be celebratory like it is for most wolves; it will be purely a necessity. What is there to celebrate? My failures; the fact I am pack-less and homeless; that I am raising a baby on my own because the father refuses to believe he got with a seventeen-year-old; because he can’t recognize me as his mate.

Chapter 1 Everly My pounding head spins as I look around at my surroundings, and I instantly regret drinking so much. Panic courses through me when I can’t immediately recognize my surroundings. I can tell I'm in a room; the light coming in through the window is blinding as I try to figure out where I am. The last thing I remember is the annual Alpha meet-up, a costume party I attended with my family. My sister and I snuck off to meet with the other future Alphas. My father always insists I need to 'get in good with them', seeing as I am next in line and will have the pack handed over to me at the end of the year when I turn eighteen. Yet, for the life of me, I can’t remember how I got into this room. I groan, rubbing my eyes and hoping I'm seeing shit properly—the alcohol burning in my system is still making me confused. When I try to roll over, though, suddenly, I become aware of the heavy arm draped over my waist. My head whips to the side, and I pray that the heavy arm belongs to my sister and that we have both passed out somewhere. But my worst fears are realized, and I try to contain my scream of horror when I find a naked man lying beside me. He isn’t just any man either, but the 'Blood Alpha' himself, Alpha Valen of the Nightshade Pack. This man owns half the city and is from a rival pack. My father is going to murder me if he finds out! “Fuck!” I whisper under my breath before looking down to find myself also naked. The slight discomfort between my legs makes me painfully aware that I tossed my virginity out the window and have absolutely no memory of it. So much for that being a magical moment. He must be a shit lay, I chuckle to myself. Of all people, it had to be him. My phone vibrates on the floor beside the bed, causing me to nearly dive off to retrieve it. My sister’s face pops up on the screen. I quickly answer it, whispering into the phone, mindful to keep my voice low. “Hello?” “Where are you? Dad is going to lose it. I told him you’re with me, but he's asked me to come home!” she shrieks through the phone. I glance around before looking out the window, trying to figure out my location. Shit. I realize I’m still at the hotel where the Alpha meet was held. “Still at the Banks Hotel,” I whisper, and she pauses, going quiet for a few moments. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t fuck Alpha dickwad?” she whispers, knowing Dad will kill me—probably even disown me—if he ever finds out. Alpha Valen’s reputation is scandalous and terrifying. I look over at the Greek God lying in bed beside me, completely passed out and unaware of me standing gawking at him. I would love to see the horror on his face when he wakes up, but he just might get in line behind my father and kill me, too. Shit, they may even conspire together to make my death exceptionally horrific. “No, of course not. I just fell asleep in one of the rooms here, completely alone,” I lie, hoping Ava believes me. I won’t get her caught up in my minor issue if Dad asks her; she sucks at lying. She doesn’t know she can’t get in trouble because of me. “Shut it. If Dad asks, tell him you stayed with Amber and me. I'll have Amber pick you up on the way; be there in five,” she says, hanging up. I quickly look around, scooping my clothes up off the floor and squeezing into the skin-tight little dress. I toss the stupid-ass fairy wings in the trashcan in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I try to fix my makeup—my face is still covered in ridiculous amounts of glitter, and the eye mask that was painted on my face by my sister still conceals half my face. I chuckle to myself, knowing the Alpha will probably wake up just as confused as me and wonder why he is covered in glitter. I vaguely remember talking to him, finding myself drawn to him for some reason. But now, as I gaze upon his paralyzed form, I can’t help but wonder who took advantage of whom. I give him one last glance, scoop up my heels, and grab my clutch purse before rushing to the hotel door and swinging it open, only to crash straight into Alpha Valen’s Beta. I smack into his chest, and he stumbles back, staring at me. I recognize him from last night’s introductions, though thankfully, he seems to have no idea who I am, as I was at the back of the room when he was introduced. I'm grateful for the paint on my face because he might have recognized me as my father’s daughter without it, which is the last thing I need. He smirks at me, clearly finding it funny that I am running from the Alpha’s hotel room. “My Alpha in there?” he asks. I drop my head, hoping he doesn’t recognize me, and quickly nod. I step past him, trying not to touch him. “Are you alright, or do you need a ride home?” he asks, making me stop. “What, do you give all your Alpha’s one-night stands a ride home?” I chuckle at him, and he smiles. “Only the pretty ones,” he says, and I roll my eyes, waving him off before taking off to meet my sister. We need to hurry home before my dad sends out a search party to run through Mountainview City to retrieve his daughters. *** Three weeks later One night. That was all it took to throw away everything I have ever known. I knew something was wrong when I felt a bit under the weather for more than a few days. Werewolves rarely get sick. Finally, after spending the last week ill, my father—Alpha of Shadow Moon Pack—had dragged me off to see the pack doctor. Our home, Mountainview City, is entirely populated by werewolves, comprising four packs. My father’s pack is the second-largest pack, which means we're held in fairly high esteem in the area. Plus, the fact that he only has two daughters means that I, as the eldest, am next in line. Well, I was until the Doctor returned to the exam room after running some tests and turned that dream upside down. The look of disappointment on my father’s face makes my heart clench. One night, one man turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. “She is pregnant.” I feel my heart sink into my stomach. No, I can’t be. I only had sex once, and I don’t even remember because I was trashed. How the hell could this be happening? My father casts a stunned look at me from where he sits before returning his gaze to our pack doctor. “It’s wrong; rerun the test. She hasn’t found her mate. She can’t be pregnant,” my father says. I shrink back in my chair. I'm only seventeen, nearly eighteen, and the number one rule all she-wolves have drummed into our heads is to save ourselves for our mates. This is a huge deal, especially to my father. This would bring shame to our family, that I would break the one sacred rule for she-wolves. Sure, the men fool around (a little bias, anyone?) Yet if we do it—especially someone like me in a position of power—it's frowned upon. I would be a disgrace to the family. “Alpha, I have tested the urine sample twice,” Doc Darnel tells him, but my father shakes his head, not believing his words—or not wanting to. “No, test it again; it is wrong. My daughter is not a rogue whore,” he says, finality in his voice. I cringe at his words: a woman who falls pregnant to someone who is not their mate. It's the worst thing to be labeled besides a traitor, though they're treated the same. Rogue whores are forbidden on pack lands, only allowed on neutral territory: the main drag of the city and the two streets behind it on either side. Most she-wolves that fall pregnant in other cities are banished like they do with those that betray or commit treason among the packs; forsaken wolves. Without any pack contact, they turn feral, sending them crazed and mad, and are forced to live outside the cities. No one wants to be on their own out there. It isn’t safe, and not how anyone wants to live. Our city is different. We don’t banish women from the city. Our treatment is slightly more… humane, I guess you could say. Instead, we just make them rogues, free to go about their lives but without pack help. I used to look down on them—those women I would see trying to make ends meet for their 'poor choices.' Maybe this is my karma; I will soon be one of them. Running through this scenario in my head, the room starts to feel like it's running out of air. I wonder if I'm going to pass out. “Yes, Alpha, I will test it again,” Doc Darnel says before rushing out of the room and away from my father’s deadly glare. My father starts pacing, and my heart rate quickens when he stops, turning to face me. “He has to be wrong; you are not like that. You wouldn’t shame me this way,” he says, looking for confirmation. I shrink back in my chair. The Doc coming back in again stops him from saying more. “The results are the same, Alpha,” Doc says before looking at me with pity. I swallow, staring wide-eyed at the pack doctor, hoping he can save me from my father’s wrath, but even I know the elderly, graying man is no match for my father. Neither am I since I still haven’t shifted. After shifting on our eighteenth birthday, we can find our mates. I have seen friends and family go through it. It is considered sacred. I wonder, terrified, how much being pregnant will delay the process. Bodies can’t shift while pregnant; it is a safety mechanism to protect the unborn pup. My father growls, turning on his heel and glaring at me, his fists clenched by his sides as he fights the urge to shift. Often, werewolves shift when they lose their temper or are preparing for a fight. Despite how hard he's trying, he's still barely holding back, his eyes starting to flicker black and his body trembling in his anger. My father has always been so proud of my sister and me, always showing us off and telling everyone about what great daughters we are and what a great Alpha I will be when I take over the pack. I look like him—dark hair and bluish-gray eyes, I got those traits from him—and he raised me in his image, preparing me to take over. But right now, with my face mirrored in his wolf's black orbs, he looks on the verge of killing me. I have never seen him so angry in his life, and that is saying something. “How far along is she?” Father asks. The venom in his words makes my blood run cold. “We can have an ultrasound done next week to confirm gestation,” Doc tells him, and I look at my hands. “No, do it now so we can take care of it before word gets out. I won’t have a rogue whore for a daughter. This is not to get out, do you understand, Doc?” Doc nods his head nervously. Vaguely, I notice my mouth is hanging open as I stare, absolutely gobsmacked at what my father just said. It's going against the Moon Goddess to abort a baby! “Wait!” I say, finally finding my voice. My father looks at me and the Doc moves away from him when he feels my father’s aura rush out. “Wait for what? You aren’t keeping this monstrosity. We can sweep it under the rug, no one has to know, and you can still take the Alpha position; we just need to take care of this poor choice, and then things can go back to normal,” my father says. He makes it sound so simple like this isn’t a sin against the Moon Goddess. “No. I can’t do that, Father. Please, just let me speak with Mom. We can work this out,” I plead with him. “No, you will terminate the pregnancy, then we go home. Doc, get whatever it is you need. I am not leaving this office until this is taken care of,” my father says. I feel tears brimming at his words. Sure, I don’t want to be pregnant, but I am not a murderer; aborting a pregnancy is worse than having a child with someone who is not your mate. “Alpha, I am afraid if your daughter isn’t willing, I can’t perform such a thing unless there is a medical reason.” “She is willing, isn’t that right, Everly?” my father says, trying to force me to agree, but I meet his gaze head-on. My mind is made up; I won’t go through with it. “No!” I tell him, not expecting his following reaction. In all my life, my father has never hit me, never raised a hand to me, and the shock of his action is more painful than the blow itself as his hand connects with the side of my face. I can feel the outline of his fingers etched into my cheek as a burning sensation spreads across it from his palm. “Then you are no longer my daughter,” he says and walks out of the room. Chapter 2 Eight months later Loved ones come and visit the other mothers on the ward, gushing in excitement over their new bundles of joy, eagerly discussing their new additions to the family. The woman across from me is being doted on by her mate. The support he is showing her, the comfort, makes my heart twist painfully, knowing no one is excited to meet my son. No one is coming to check on me or offer support. No one cares for the boy suckling at my breast. Nobody is coming. It is just him and me against the world. But that is ok. I will make it work. The labor was excruciating. It was thirty-four hours and forty-five minutes of pure agony and no comfort, not even from the midwives. They were nothing but rude and mean, telling me to quit crying as I begged them to make the pain stop. I had never felt so vulnerable or alone as when I was in labor. It was hard enough to grow up with the expectations of being the Alpha’s daughter, but then I got pregnant, shunned, and stripped of my title. All for one night. That one night turned my life upside down. How could he throw away his flesh and blood, his own daughter, over her falling pregnant? How could anything so tiny and sweet be called a mistake? Hearing the nurse come in, I look up. She grabs my chart from the end of the bed, looking it over before eyeing me. Glasses teeter on the end of her upturned nose. No one tries to hide their disgust; everyone looks down on me because I had a child with someone who isn’t my mate. That much is evident, that I have no mate because where is he? Not here beside me like the rest of those new mothers on the ward—my mate isn’t here gushing over this newborn baby in my arms. “You really have no idea who the father is?” she asks, clicking her tongue. I know exactly who the father is, but the last thing I need is for him to hunt me down. I already had that run-in. A run-in I would much rather forget when I told him I was carrying his child. He didn’t even remember me. Doesn’t help that he's a rival pack Alpha. It's just easier pretending I don’t know. The shame I have brought my family for being pregnant is bad enough; my father would have killed me for the disrespect of foolishly getting into bed with the Blood Alpha. I watch the nurse flick her red curly hair over her shoulder. “He is cute; shame his mother is a whore,” she sneers, and I see the points of her canines pressing beneath her gums as they protrude past her lips. “Can I get some Tylenol?” I ask, ignoring her comment. I'm feeling a headache coming on. Besides, I've received multiple comments along the same lines since being here—I don’t feel the need to defend myself; there is no point. Nothing I say will make them look at me any differently. “Sorry, can’t. It is not on your charts,” she says. “It’s Tylenol. It’s not like I am asking for morphine,” I tell her. “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t on your charts, so you will have to go without,” she says, dropping the chart on the table beside me. Most women heal directly after giving birth, but I haven’t shifted yet, so I have no such healing ability. “Can I get something to eat at least?” I ask her. I am starving, and breastfeeding is making me ravenous. “You came into the maternity ward after the dinner rounds, and breakfast is at 7 a.m.,” she tells me. I look at the clock and see it is only just after 8 p.m. I nod, knowing this nurse will not help in any way. Crap, every nurse here is horrible because of my situation. Sometimes, I wish I could leave this city, pretend to be human, and just go about my life with my son. The nurse leaves, stopping at the blue curtain that divides the beds. “Did you even think of the repercussions for the father by having a child with someone who isn’t your mate? Did you think of the poor woman who finds her mate in him and one day learns he fathered an illegitimate child to some random she-wolf?” Little did she know that I thought of that every day since learning I was pregnant, but it was his choice, too. I fight back the tears from her words as I stare down at my amber-eyed boy; those eyes are definitely from his father, from what I can remember at least. Mine are light bluish-gray. I've just put my son down after he fell asleep in my arms when I see a nurse walk past. She stops and comes over to me when I wave to her. Her uniform is different; she must be the head midwife or someone higher up on the staff list. Long, pencil-straight hair hangs to her shoulders, slightly obscuring her name tag. I try to read the small writing under her name—Rita—but I can't quite make it out. She must be in her mid-twenties because she seems closer to my age. Well, not really. I am barely eighteen, but still, she looks nicer than the previous nurses. She picks up my chart, flicking through it. “Is there somewhere I can get some water? Or maybe a cup of tea?” I ask, and she glares at me. My stomach drops. Maybe she isn’t so lovely after all. She presses the buzzer behind my head, calling another nurse, yet she still hasn’t answered me. My son starts to stir, and I reach over and grab him out of his crib as another nurse comes in, my stomach cramping from the sudden movement. “Why is she in here?” the head nurse asks, making me look at her. I just had a baby. Why else? I think to myself. The new nurse looks over at me. Her hands tremble slightly—this head midwife obviously instills fear in her colleagues. “Get her to the unmated section. We don’t need her disturbing the mothers in this ward,” the woman says before turning her nose up at me and walking out. Turns out, Rita is a bitch, like the rest of them. I stare, disgusted by this hospital’s bedside manner. The girl in the curtained-off room beside me speaks. “I knew something was up with her, Hun; her mate never visited her. No one has. Now I know why,” she says to her mate. She's right. We are allowed one person with us constantly while in here. The girl next to me, her mate hasn’t left her side since I got here. The person across from me had multiple people come in during the night, and her mate also hasn’t left. I try to ignore their mates gushing over them and tending to their every need while I sit here, getting nothing but sneers and judgment. The bed moves as the nurse begins rolling me out of the room. Because I am sitting upright, I have to grab the bar that runs along the side to stop from falling back. She wheels me through the maternity ward before going down a corridor; I appear to be leaving the maternity unit altogether. The nurse finally stops at a curtained-off area and places the bed against the wall. The woman then turns on her heel and leaves. “Wait, can I get some water?” But she has already gone and didn’t even acknowledge my question. “I wouldn’t bother. They won’t help us,” comes a voice before someone jerks the partitioning curtain away to reveal two other girls. One looks to be in her mid-twenties with long, curly dark hair and sparkling green eyes. The other girl is around sixteen, with her dark blonde hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head. “My name is Macey,” the oldest of them says. “Hi. Everly,” I reply. “Her name is Zoe. Welcome to the shunned mothers club,” Macey chuckles before looking down at her baby. She sighs heavily. “Don’t expect them to help; they won’t. Seriously, you’re best off getting out as soon as you can,” Macey tells me. “But they are supposed to,” I tell her, feeling disheartened. “Yeah, I have been here two days; baby has a few problems. Half the time, they don’t answer when I buzz, and forget about them feeding you. I haven’t received anything since being here,” Macey explains before reaching to the foot of her bed and pulling a bag toward her. She rummages through it before pulling out a granola bar. “Here. You must be starving. I was, and I came prepared expecting this,” Macey explains. “You had a baby before?” I ask, unable to imagine going through this again. She shakes her head. “No, this is my first. My mom was a single mother, too. We are rogues like you,” she says. I open the granola bar, my stomach growling at the sight of food. “Boy or girl?” I ask the younger girl, who seems rather shy. “Girl. Yours?” “Boy,” I tell her. “Thanks,” I tell Macey before biting into the granola bar. “Plenty in there, just help yourself. I brought extras in case there were other girls. Which pack are you from? Your aura feels quite strong for a rogue?” she says, staring at me. “Alpha blood,” I tell her. Her eyebrows raise in shock. “In that case, you don’t have to tell me. I understand why you would want to keep that to yourself. Zoe was born rogue—so was I,” she says, and I glance at Zoe, who nods. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you girls living? Are there any refuges or anything for women?” “I have a place at a refuge. But I know it’s full to capacity,” Zoe says, a look of sorrow etching her face as if she wishes she could help more. “Me? I live with my mom and my brother,” Macey tells me. “Where are you staying? No family would help?” Zoe asks. I shake my head. “No. We will be alright. I will come up with something,” I tell them, hoping that will be true, though I have been living in my busted station wagon, which cost me $500 for the last eight months. It saddens me that we are pushed aside, but the next day, both girls help me, for which I am grateful. Macey continues to share her food, and she was right—not once did anyone come to check on us, no food was brought to us, nothing. Shunned for having a baby, and we suddenly don’t matter anymore. Chapter 3 Two weeks later Tap, Tap, Tap. I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in before he moves it around, looking in the back. I put my hand up when the light flashes across my face, blinding me. He quickly moves it to the side. “Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle-aged man tells me; he must be city security, judging by his uniform. My son—who I decided to name Valarian—stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his flashlight away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops. “Look, I've noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station.” He sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him. “You really have no place to go? No family?” he asks. “No, the council kicked me out of the park,” I say matter-of-factly. He sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot. “What about the baby’s father?” I shake my head, knowing that isn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me about the pregnancy—refused to see me, even when I begged him to let me show him the ultrasound pictures. Every time I tried to call after that, he hung up the moment he heard my voice. After a while, I gave up. “You know there are people out there that would take him—then you could probably go home.” “I am not abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him, outraged he would even suggest it. “This is no life for a child. You’re young. If you give him up, you could have a normal life. Something to think about: I will give you another week to find somewhere else. After that, you need to move on,” he says, and I nod before winding the window up. I watch him leave before settling my son and putting him back to bed in the fruit box beside me—I have always been paranoid about accidentally rolling on him while asleep. Tugging the blanket up over both of us, I try to get comfortable. Yet, all I can think is. This is not how I intended to bring my son into this world. I thought it would be different and that I would have figured out something by now. A single tear runs down my cheek as I think of his words. “This is no life for a child.” Am I being selfish? However, the thought of giving him up breaks my heart. He is mine. I loved him and would give my life for my little man. Isn’t that enough? I can’t deny the bond between us. *** Waking up the following day, I groan; it is pouring with rain. It's still early. I rummage through the back for my umbrella before slipping my shoes on. Making sure Valarian is bundled nice and warm, I grab my empty bucket in one hand and pop the umbrella up as I open the hatchback. Sliding the bucket to the crook of my elbow, I raise the umbrella with the same hand. I then pick up my son in my free arm and make a run for it to the train station bathrooms, paying extra care not to slip on the wet ground. That would be disastrous. Once I get into the large, handicapped stall, I shove the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hate about being homeless is holding my son while going to the bathroom. I can’t place him down anywhere, making it hard to use the toilet while making sure not to drop him. When I finish, I slide my pants up with one hand, which is difficult while holding my son, then awkwardly wash my hand before turning the faucet off. Now the tricky part—holding an umbrella, a newborn, and a now-full bucket of water. Somehow, I manage it and make it back to the car before placing the bucket down and quickly opening the hatchback to my wagon. I crawl in and set my son in his bed before hauling my tiny bucket in. Lathering my washcloth with soap, I give him a wash down before dressing him in a clean diaper and clothes so he's all nice and fresh for the day. Using the remaining water, I also give myself a wash, longing for a shower. Gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I use the rest stop ones occasionally, but right now, I have no fuel to get there and can’t risk spending my limited funds. When mom and dad kicked me out, I had a small amount of savings. I also worked at the Chinese restaurant on the main street while pregnant to keep saving. The savings didn’t last long with buying baby clothes and non-perishable food, though. And now that he's born, I've been spending money on diapers. Not to mention, since my milk dried up from stress and lack of nutrition before I left the hospital, I am forced to stock up on formula and bottled water too. My car looks like a mini supermarket, but I am starting to get low on the formula again. Rummaging through my wallet, I find my last $100. I need to think of something fast. This won’t see us through much longer. Sighing, I lean back on my door, watching the rain. The restaurant won’t take me back—I tried that—and my parents obviously aren’t an option. His father wouldn’t even let me on pack territory when I requested to see him. I still remember when I got his number to call him that first time; what a nightmare that was. He laughed and said there was no way he would sleep with a seventeen-year-old. To be fair, I was not supposed to be in that part of the club at the hotel. My sister and I wanted to meet the older Alphas, not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty. So with fake IDs, we snuck in while the meeting was going on in the conference hall. Alpha Valen was just as drunk as I was, so it's no wonder he can’t remember me. I barely remember anything. What I do remember is how I felt that night—the pull to him for some reason—and he must have felt it too. I know I didn’t imagine it. Shaking the vague memory away, I grab a granola bar and start eating. My belly is rumbling. Oh, what I would do for a home-cooked meal. I love mom’s cooking. She's the best cook! A tear slips down my cheek and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My father had it disconnected, but I like to look at the photos of when I was still part of the family. I miss my little sister—I wish I could see her, even just once more. I spend most of the day just trying to figure out what I can do about money. The security guard’s words eat at me. “This is no life for a child.” I am failing. I need help and don’t know who to ask. When it starts to get dark, the five o’clock train pulls in. I try to light my candle so I can see in the growing darkness, but my lighter has finally run out of fuel. Popping the trunk to get out, I grab my umbrella and glance around, hoping to find someone smoking—someone approachable—to ask to borrow one. “Excuse me, do you have a…” The man in his tailored suit walks past, looking down at me. I try over and over again, ignored by everyone that passes. Feeling disheartened, I'm about to hop back in the car when I see a younger man in a neat suit. I've seen him a few times. He catches the early train and is always home on the five o’clock train. He's always dressed nicely in suits that compliment his brownish-blond hair and green eyes, and his muscular build puts him a good foot taller than me. The man stares at me warily as I approach, and I stop when I feel his aura—he has Beta blood. He looks familiar for some reason and I finally place him; he is one of the Betas from the Alpha meet. He's Beta to Alpha Valen. I pretend I don’t recognize him because he definitely doesn’t remember me, and I know he can’t feel my aura. I've been rogue for so long now, my aura is almost nonexistent. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t shifted. I want to, need to, but what do I do with my son? “Can I borrow a lighter if you have one?” I blurt out quickly before he waves me away; everyone usually assumes I'm asking for money. He stops, staring at me for a second. “Fine,” he says, rustling inside his pocket before handing me a green lighter. I run back to the car and light the candle that sits on a plate in my vehicle. Only, when I turn around, I find him behind me, having followed me the few yards back to my car. I jump, not expecting him to be so close. “Thank you,” I tell him, passing it back. He nods, then begins to leave, walking around the side of my car just as my son cries out. Chapter 4 “Shh, shh, I’m coming,” I whisper, pulling the hatchback down until something stops it. I turn to see what it caught on, only for it to be pulled open by the Beta. “Is that a baby you have in there?” he asks, and my heart thunders in my chest nervously. Will he call child services on me? My son cries louder, and I reach for him. The man’s eyes dart to him before he sniffs the air. I stare back at him, confused, and tug my son to my chest as if he’s threatening to take him away from me. “It’s only temporary; please don’t call child services,” I tell him, and he cocks his head to the side. His gaze appears to be more thoughtful than scrutinizing. “Does your car run?” he asks, looking at it before he kicks a tire. “I have no fuel. I will leave tomorrow, I promise,” I tell him, panicking. Maybe he's a council worker? I doubt it because of his expensive suit. He looks at me, his nose scrunching slightly. “You smell familiar,” he mutters. I swallow, wondering if he remembers me, but he doesn’t appear to, and I also don’t want him questioning which pack I was from. My father and his Alpha are not on good terms. Yet, maybe if he could get me in to see Alpha Valen, he might help with his son. However, that thought also frightens me—having to face the man who ignored me and refused to even do a DNA test. He declined to come check—stating my claims were lies—but if he just met him, he would see. We can always sense our kin. I stare at the Beta, wondering if he'll leave, but he pushes the hatchback open further before reaching in. I scoot further back, looking for a weapon in case I need it. “Calm down. I can’t leave you here knowing you are sleeping in your car with a baby,” he says, grabbing the car seat. “I will leave; just don’t take my son,” I tell him. He looks at me like I am mad. “I’m not.” And his eyes mean it. “I want to help.” He’s being sincere. “You want to help?” I repeat, slightly disbelieving. I must have heard that wrong. “Come on, you can stay at the packhouse until I speak to my Alpha,” he says, waving me forward. “Grab a change of clothes. We can come back to your car tomorrow,” he says. Terrified, I don’t move. It's been so long since anyone has helped me. He sighs before grabbing a bag and stuffing a can of formula, the diaper bag, and some of my clothes inside the bigger bag. “Come on, wouldn’t you rather have a warm house than a cold car?” he asks. I look down at my son, wondering if I should trust him. He grabs the car seat. I climb out, and he hands me my umbrella before shutting my trunk. “This way,” he says, walking to his car. I follow him to his electric blue sports-looking car. I always wondered why he doesn’t drive to work. And why would he leave such an expensive car at a train station? He puts the seat in before scratching his head. “You know how to clip it in?” he asks, and I nod. “Okay, you put it in, and I will hold your…” His eyes dart to my son. “Son,” I tell him, and he nods, holding out his arms for him. He takes him from me, and I lean in, making sure to keep an eye on him while I clip the seat in before turning around. Retrieving the baby, I clip him in his chair before climbing in beside him. The Beta then passes me the bag before shutting my door. He turns the heater on when he hops in before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Your son has odd-colored eyes—reminds me of my Alpha’s. He is the only person I know with amber eyes besides his father,” he says. I look at the man, and he looks away, looking back at the road. He definitely has his father’s eyes, but I keep my mouth shut. Though maybe this would be my chance, he would be able to tell if he saw his own son. We can sense our own family, plus their resemblance is unmistakable. “Who is your Alpha?” I ask, pretending I don’t know. “Valen, the Blood Alpha,” he says, his eyes darting to mine in the mirror again, gauging my reaction to his words. I feel excitement bubble in me, knowing I am correct in who he is. “He will be fine with you bringing a rogue into the territory?” I ask him. “He won’t be there, and I will speak with him tomorrow. Are you hungry?” he asks, and my belly rumbles loudly at the mention of food. He chuckles at the noise. “I will take that as a yes,” he says, and my face heats. I give my son his binky, his amber eyes peering at me in the darkness of the car. “What’s your name?” “Everly,” I answer him. “Odd name. What pack were you from, or were you born rogue?” “No, I was in a pack,” I answer. I refuse to tell him which one; it's no secret my family’s pack and the Blood-Alpha are constantly at war. “Your name? I can tell you have Beta blood,” I tell him. “Marcus, and yes, I am Valen's Beta,” he says before pulling into a drive-thru. I grab my wallet. “I don’t want your money,” he says before ordering for himself. "What do you want?" I don’t say anything, feeling awkward, so he orders two of the same thing. “Is he asleep?” he asks, and I look at my son. I nod as he pulls up to the next window. “Climb in the front,” he says, which makes me look at my son again, worried. “I don’t bite, climb over,” he says while patting the passenger seat. I unclip my seatbelt before climbing over into the front. Placing the seatbelt on quickly, I notice that he doesn’t have a mark on his neck; he hasn’t found his mate yet. A bite on the neck always means that anyone, man or woman, has been “marked” by their mate. He opens some cupholders and places the drinks in them before passing me a paper bag. “You can eat in the car,” he says. I thank him and I open his burger box for him, letting him take it out. Marcus pulls over on the side of the road before flicking the interior light on so we can see before turning in his seat to face me. “Eat. I won’t hurt you.” I open the burger box, the smell making my stomach melt. My hands are shaking as I retrieve the burger. “Are you cold?” he asks, turning the heat up. I nod my head. It's a lie. I was fine in the car; it's the fact I haven’t eaten a hot meal in ages or even just actual food that isn’t canned spaghetti or granola bars. I bite into the burger and a sob nearly escapes my lips; I am quick to suppress it so he doesn't hear. I chew slowly, savoring the taste and the warmth. Looking up, I see that he is watching me while eating his burger. I blush feeling embarrassed that he is staring. He must think I am pathetic. I feel pathetic accepting a stranger's help, and almost crying over a damn burger. “Thank you,” I tell him while taking a sip of the cold Coke. It fizzes in my throat and on my tongue but tastes so good. “Where is your family?” he asks curiously. “He is my only family,” I tell him, looking at my son. “They tossed you, didn’t they, for being unmated?” I swallow, looking down. “My mother was a single mother, not a rogue, though. My dad died and she raised me alone. She struggled, but she had the pack. Must be hard having no one to help at all,” he says. I don’t say anything. What can I say? I am the disgraced daughter of an Alpha? We eat in silence, and for the first time in ages, I feel full, yet still, he hands me his fries, telling me to eat them before starting the car again. After twenty minutes of driving, I realize we're getting close to my old pack when he turns onto a road going in the opposite direction. It takes another twenty minutes of driving through his territory before he pulls up at a large, three-story house. I can hardly see through the darkness of the night, but I can tell it's modern-looking. “Are you okay? Stepping across didn’t make you feel sick?” I shake my head. It's odd. Usually, rogues feel sick crossing a border, but I don’t. “Huh. Odd,” he mutters. “Are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?” I ask a little nervous about being in pack territory when I am a rogue. “Yeah, no one is here, and you can stay in my room tonight; I have pack patrol, so I won't be home.” I nod. “The Alpha won’t mind?” I ask. “Na, he won’t even know until I see him tomorrow. He's in the city partying tonight; you will have the place to yourself,” he says, opening his door. I climb out before walking around the car and grabbing my son. Marcus places my bag over his shoulder and puts his hand on my lower back, showing me to the front door. I watch as he unlocks the door before motioning for me to enter. Chapter 5 Stepping inside, Marcus flicks on the hallway light, and I can finally see better. The entire place is spotless. White marble floors and a massive staircase lead up to the next level. I can’t see in the rooms off the side of the foyer; he didn't turn those lights on, but if the foyer is anything to go by, the rest of the house must be breathtaking. It is way over the top; nothing I wouldn’t expect of the Blood Alpha. They are the wealthiest pack and have half the city under their claim. “This way,” he says, motioning for me to follow. I trail after him up two flights of stairs before he stops at a black door. He pushes it open to reveal a king-size mahogany bed with a canopy. Matching furniture and a large black rug sit on the floor. Built into the wall is a flat-screen TV, and he turns it on before turning the volume down a bit. To one side, I can also see a door leading to a balcony. “Obviously, I don't have a crib, but the bed is comfy, and the bathroom is through those doors. It's shared with Alpha Valen's room next door, but I'm sure he won't be by tonight. He'll probably stay at his apartment in the city. Towels are in there, and I will be back to check on you at 6 a.m. I'll take you to see the Alpha then,” he says before heading into the walk-in closet and grabbing some clothes for himself. “The Kitchen is downstairs if you're hungry, and I'll see you later,” he tells me before walking out the door. I look around for a moment, then flick the space heater on to warm the room. “This is nice, Bubba. And tomorrow, you can meet your father,” I whisper to him. I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. There’s no way the Alpha can deny his son once he meets him. He'll know with just one look at him that he is his. He'll be able to sense that. Finally, things were looking up. I’d have help, well, maybe not me, but I know he’ll provide for his son. Walking into the bathroom, I gasp. It's white marble and white tiles with a gold finish. One wall is all mirrors above the basin, and the shower could easily fit three people. But the most exciting part is that the sink is the perfect size to bathe Valarian. He hasn’t taken a proper bath since the hospital. I just know he’ll love it. I instantly start prepping the sink with warm water, using my elbow to test it before stripping his clothes off and settling him in the water while ensuring I hold his head above the water. He moves his arms and legs, swishing the water and murmuring happily while eating his hands. I chuckle watching him splash. Once the water gets cool, I get him out. I drain the water and wrap him in a towel before patting him dry and laying him on the bed while I dress him. After his bottle, he falls asleep quickly, almost like he knows he’s safe here. I prop pillows around him to ensure he doesn't fall off the bed before walking back to the bathroom, leaving the door open so that I can hear him. After quickly stripping my clothes off, I turn the shower on and step under the warm spray. Marcus didn't mention using the bath products, but I assume it is okay, and use the shower gel and shampoo to give myself the deepest wash I’ve had in what feels like a year. Halfway through wrapping the fluffy towel around myself, I suddenly hear voices, drunken stumbling, a woman giggling, and I freeze. Someone is here. I snatch my clothes off the sink basin and am about to run into Marcus's room when the bathroom door opens and a beautiful red-haired woman walks in wearing a skimpy dress. She stops when she notices me. Her extremely tight dress leaves little to the imagination, and she is clearly intoxicated, as a cloud of alcohol wafts in after her. She looks me up and down before growling at me, her top lip pulling back over her teeth. “What are you doing in here, rogue?” she barks. “I… Beta Marcus… He said.” My heart thumps wildly in my chest. Stuttering, I attempt to explain when the door is shoved open, and a man storms in. No, not a man, the blood Alpha. He also reeks heavily of whiskey, the smell so strong it burns my nose, yet I can’t tear my eyes from his amber ones. He is absolutely gorgeous, even while heavily intoxicated and barely able to stand upright. He's tall, too, and way bulkier than I remember, with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow. But his eyes, those eyes I can’t look away from. They glow like the embodiment of autumn. It feels like someone fried my brain to a crisp, and all I can do is stare, my brain screaming at me, my senses overloaded with his essence. Mate! The blood Alpha. He's. My. Mate. I know it, feel it, with every fiber of my being, even without having shifted yet. I am of age now, and I feel my heart flutter excitedly. I’ve found my mate! Taking a step toward him, I reach out to him, but his lips pull back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines. His face, his gorgeous face, is twisted in anger. I gasp, realizing he's too intoxicated to recognize me. Instead, he rushes toward me. His hands grab my throat, and he pushes me against the cold, tiled wall. “What the fuck is a rogue doing in my house!” he screams before sniffing me. I can’t talk; his grip is tight, restricting my airway. He sniffs me again before shaking his head. Then he shoves me back before commanding me. “Get out of my house now before I have you killed!” he roars, and my stomach sinks somewhere deep inside me. He can't recognize me. I could just as easily be some random rogue whore off the street to him with how drunk he is. However, he keeps sniffing the air, his body telling him something is amiss. It’s just that his brain cannot register me at all. My heart sinks. The woman behind him is clearly enjoying this confrontation; probably hoping he'll kill me; a rogue on pack land. I never should have come here. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Not even my own mate will help me. This was my only chance at showing him that he's a father, and now it just went out the window. “Wait, but, you're my–” I plead desperately. “Get out!” he screams, and I flinch, his Command rolling over me. I snatch my clothes from where I dropped them, rushing into Marcus's room and pulling them on. As much as I desperately wish I could continue arguing, his Command leaves me powerless. And the more I fight it, the more it hurts. Alpha wolves, once they reach maturity, can use a certain voice, a Command, that the recipient must obey, by fighting it, the pain grows until they submit to it. “Come on, baby,” the woman purrs, clutching him. Tears brim in my eyes while I snatch my things up, unable to do anything against his Command, unable to explain myself. Wrapping my son in his blanket and tucking him against me, I grab my bag before rushing down the steps. Pain suddenly tears through me, taking my breath away. Clutching the banister, my stomach cramps, making me cry out and my legs buckle. I grit my teeth, agony tearing my heart apart. They’re obviously fucking. I’ve heard that women know when their mates are unfaithful—can feel it—but I got to meet him with another woman. I didn't think it would hurt like this; I never envisioned this pain when teachers explained. He hasn't even marked me. Running down the steps, I rush out the door. It's pouring with rain as a storm rolls across the night sky. And I am miles from my car, yet his Command told me to leave and gives me no choice. Looking around helplessly, I start running, pulling my son under my shirt to shield him from the cold. My legs are moving me with nowhere to go as I desperately try to figure out where to find shelter. I don't know how long I run for, but I suddenly find myself on the city's main street—the line separating Nightshade Pack from Shadowmoon Pack, my father's pack, my old territory. My old house is only a ten-minute run from here. Maybe he'll take pity on me; perhaps he might change his mind once he meets his grandson. I can only hope, at least for my son’s sake. I swallow, knowing I have no choice, or I'll be in the rain all night with a baby. Deciding to take my chances, I start running home. I run the entire way before stopping in front of my old home. The lights are all off. My heart twists as I look up the driveway of the single-story, lavish house. Growing up, I played with the pack kids in this street and rode my bike along the footpath with my sister. My father used to toss the football with us on this very lawn after work when we were little or help us climb the massive tree that sits on the side of the driveway. This was home. Standing here, I suddenly miss my old life, miss my family; I just hope they miss me too. Chapter 6 Quietly sneaking up the side of the house, I stop at my sister's bedroom window—she's asleep in her bed. I tap on the window and see movement; she flicks her lamp on, squinting around the room before looking at the window. Seeing me waving at her, Ava's mouth opens, and she's immediately on alert as she rushes over. As soon as she throws her window open, I pass her my bag, which she places on the floor before taking Valarian from me, so I can climb through the window. “Sis!” she cries, hugging me. I inhale her scent, tears flowing down my cheeks, before pulling back to look at her. I am soaked, absolutely drenched, my hair dripping from the rain, but she doesn't seem to notice. She clutches her mouth before a sob escapes her. “I was hoping you would come back.” She looks down at my son in awe. “He's beautiful,” she chokes out. I gently close the window as she hugs Valarian close, smelling his tiny head. “Gosh, I've missed you so much. Dad wouldn't let me look for you; he has me on a tight leash,” she says, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Grab some dry clothes, take whatever you want,” she whispers while pointing at her dresser. I rummage through her drawers and find some warm clothes, trying to be quiet so I don't wake my parents down the hall. After putting on some of her pajamas, I have to roll the waistband of the pants to hold them up. My sister watches me before she breaks down again. “You're so skinny,” she sobs, sinking onto her bed and looking at my body. She's right—you can see most of my ribs and my hip bones jut out. I've lost so much weight, this is the smallest I have ever been. “I'm fine, Ava. I'm okay,” I try to reassure her, rummaging through my bag to retrieve a diaper. Thankfully, between my shirt and the blanket that was wrapped around him, Valarian was able to stay dry. She just shakes her head, looking at my son as she rocks him. I sit next to her, and she moves over on the bed to give me space, leaning back against the wall. Together, we watch my son fall asleep in her arms. Laying my head down on her shoulder, I suddenly break down. Ava tries to soothe me, but I can feel her crying silently beside me. Ava was my best friend. It is almost impossible to beat a sister bond, someone who knows your hardships, knows what it's like to grow up with the parents you have, someone who shares every milestone with you and every heartbreak. How times have changed? I've missed having someone to talk to. The only interactions I’ve had were judgmental glares or a few words to show their disgust with me. Nobody asked how I was—nobody cared—and I was stupid enough to believe Beta Marcus would be able to help, stupid enough to think my mate would accept me. “How is mom?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. “She's okay; she asked Dad for a divorce when he kicked you out. But you know Mom, she would never leave him,” she tells me, and I nod. It's unheard of for mates to get divorced. The bond stops mates from being separated. It weakens them; two souls, together, or that's how it's supposed to be. Not for me, I guess. I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life feeling my mate whenever he's with another woman who isn’t me. I'm not looking forward to raising our son on my own or being alone. When Valarian stirs, I get up and grab his formula before realizing I have no bottled water. Ava passes my son to me before grabbing his bottle from my hand. “How much?” she whispers. “Four ounces,” I tell her, and she nods, opening the door just as my son cries out loudly. I try to muffle the noise and soothe him by giving him his binky, but he spits it out and lets out an ear-piercing scream. My sister stares at me in panic. Quickly, she tries to close the door, but within seconds it is thrown open and bangs against the wall, causing Valarian to scream even louder. My father storms in and his eyes instantly find me. A growl escapes him. I cower away, shielding my son. Ava gets between us, trying to shield me from my enraged father, but he shoves her out of the way before stalking toward me. “Please, Dad, please!” I beg. He grabs my hair, and I scream. So does my son in my arms as I try not to drop him. My reflexes want to pull his hands away; instead, I hold my son for dear life, letting my hair tug painfully from my scalp. “Mom! Mom!” Ava starts screaming frantically before I hear feet slapping on the tiles in the hall. “Please, Dad! Mom, help me! Mom, please!” I beg her when she rushes in, her mouth open in shock as my father starts dragging me toward the front door by my hair. My mother grips his arm, pleading with him. “John, please let her go; she has a baby in her arms.” He shoves her aside before dragging me down the hall to the front of the house. “Dad, please, it's raining outside,” Ava begs. My mother is also desperately trying to stop him. My father doesn't care; he growls at them, ignoring them and my cries. He's just opened the front door when my mother shoves him. “John! She is our daughter! Please,” she begs, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face. “That whore is not my daughter,” he growls, his canines protruding. “Dad, please, it's freezing outside,” Ava begs. “I said no! I will not have a rogue whore for a daughter!” he screams, his face turning red in his anger. “Then take him, please. I will stay outside; just don't put him out. Please, Dad, he's your grandson,” I choke out. He growls at me, his hand shoving me out the door. He's about to shut the door in my face when I try once more. “Please just look at him, Dad. He'll get sick. Just one night. Then I will leave,” I plead. My mother reaches for Valarian, but my father pushes her behind him. “John, at least let me take him! Let me take my Grandson!” my mother cries. He lets me go, looking down at my son before staring at my mother, who is sobbing, her hands outstretched for him. Those same hands that held mine when I was a little girl, now grasping the air for my son. “Give him to her, but you stay out. You aren't welcome in my house,” he says before walking off. My mother rushes over to grab Valarian before hugging me briefly. “I will watch him; I'll stay by the window,” she says, and I nod. “Ava has his baby bag,” I tell her. My sister clutches my fingers, nodding. Tears roll down her cheeks as her lips quiver. “It's okay, Ava. I will be fine,” I tell my sister behind her before my dad yells at them, making them jump. “I'm sorry, I have to,” my mother says, closing the door. I nod. The curtain in the living room opens, and the lamp flicks on. I see my sister rush off toward the kitchen, and my mother sits on the lounge with him next to the window, so I can see him. Leaning over, my mother cracks the window so she can speak to me. “He has your nose,” she says, smiling sadly at me, and I smile, sitting on the chair out front on the porch. I shiver; my sister’s flannel pajamas become soaked as the rain blows toward me where I sit, listening and watching my mother through the window feeding my son his bottle. At least he is warm and dry, I think to myself. Huddled up on the chair, I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to warm myself and shield myself from the cold and the strong gusts of wind. It doesn’t take long before I start shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth chatter so hard I feel like they'll break. My mother taps on the glass where my head rests—I can see her heartbreak at watching me sit in the cold, stormy weather. “Shift sweetie. Shift to try to stay warm,” she says, placing her palm on the glass. “I haven't shifted yet,” I tell her, and she looks at me sadly. Shifting is a big thing with werewolves; it is a coming of age. Your wolf is meant to represent your future in the pack. I haven’t shifted yet, but when I do, it will not be celebratory like it is for most wolves; it will be purely a necessity. What is there to celebrate? My failures; the fact I am pack-less and homeless; that I am raising a baby on my own because the father refuses to believe he got with a seventeen-year-old; because he can’t recognize me as his mate.

Chapter 1 Everly My pounding head spins as I look around at my surroundings, and I instantly regret drinking so much. Panic courses through me when I can’t immediately recognize my surroundings. I can tell I'm in a room; the light coming in through the window is blinding as I try to figure out where I am. The last thing I remember is the annual Alpha meet-up, a costume party I attended with my family. My sister and I snuck off to meet with the other future Alphas. My father always insists I need to 'get in good with them', seeing as I am next in line and will have the pack handed over to me at the end of the year when I turn eighteen. Yet, for the life of me, I can’t remember how I got into this room. I groan, rubbing my eyes and hoping I'm seeing shit properly—the alcohol burning in my system is still making me confused. When I try to roll over, though, suddenly, I become aware of the heavy arm draped over my waist. My head whips to the side, and I pray that the heavy arm belongs to my sister and that we have both passed out somewhere. But my worst fears are realized, and I try to contain my scream of horror when I find a naked man lying beside me. He isn’t just any man either, but the 'Blood Alpha' himself, Alpha Valen of the Nightshade Pack. This man owns half the city and is from a rival pack. My father is going to murder me if he finds out! “Fuck!” I whisper under my breath before looking down to find myself also naked. The slight discomfort between my legs makes me painfully aware that I tossed my virginity out the window and have absolutely no memory of it. So much for that being a magical moment. He must be a shit lay, I chuckle to myself. Of all people, it had to be him. My phone vibrates on the floor beside the bed, causing me to nearly dive off to retrieve it. My sister’s face pops up on the screen. I quickly answer it, whispering into the phone, mindful to keep my voice low. “Hello?” “Where are you? Dad is going to lose it. I told him you’re with me, but he's asked me to come home!” she shrieks through the phone. I glance around before looking out the window, trying to figure out my location. Shit. I realize I’m still at the hotel where the Alpha meet was held. “Still at the Banks Hotel,” I whisper, and she pauses, going quiet for a few moments. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t fuck Alpha dickwad?” she whispers, knowing Dad will kill me—probably even disown me—if he ever finds out. Alpha Valen’s reputation is scandalous and terrifying. I look over at the Greek God lying in bed beside me, completely passed out and unaware of me standing gawking at him. I would love to see the horror on his face when he wakes up, but he just might get in line behind my father and kill me, too. Shit, they may even conspire together to make my death exceptionally horrific. “No, of course not. I just fell asleep in one of the rooms here, completely alone,” I lie, hoping Ava believes me. I won’t get her caught up in my minor issue if Dad asks her; she sucks at lying. She doesn’t know she can’t get in trouble because of me. “Shut it. If Dad asks, tell him you stayed with Amber and me. I'll have Amber pick you up on the way; be there in five,” she says, hanging up. I quickly look around, scooping my clothes up off the floor and squeezing into the skin-tight little dress. I toss the stupid-ass fairy wings in the trashcan in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I try to fix my makeup—my face is still covered in ridiculous amounts of glitter, and the eye mask that was painted on my face by my sister still conceals half my face. I chuckle to myself, knowing the Alpha will probably wake up just as confused as me and wonder why he is covered in glitter. I vaguely remember talking to him, finding myself drawn to him for some reason. But now, as I gaze upon his paralyzed form, I can’t help but wonder who took advantage of whom. I give him one last glance, scoop up my heels, and grab my clutch purse before rushing to the hotel door and swinging it open, only to crash straight into Alpha Valen’s Beta. I smack into his chest, and he stumbles back, staring at me. I recognize him from last night’s introductions, though thankfully, he seems to have no idea who I am, as I was at the back of the room when he was introduced. I'm grateful for the paint on my face because he might have recognized me as my father’s daughter without it, which is the last thing I need. He smirks at me, clearly finding it funny that I am running from the Alpha’s hotel room. “My Alpha in there?” he asks. I drop my head, hoping he doesn’t recognize me, and quickly nod. I step past him, trying not to touch him. “Are you alright, or do you need a ride home?” he asks, making me stop. “What, do you give all your Alpha’s one-night stands a ride home?” I chuckle at him, and he smiles. “Only the pretty ones,” he says, and I roll my eyes, waving him off before taking off to meet my sister. We need to hurry home before my dad sends out a search party to run through Mountainview City to retrieve his daughters. *** Three weeks later One night. That was all it took to throw away everything I have ever known. I knew something was wrong when I felt a bit under the weather for more than a few days. Werewolves rarely get sick. Finally, after spending the last week ill, my father—Alpha of Shadow Moon Pack—had dragged me off to see the pack doctor. Our home, Mountainview City, is entirely populated by werewolves, comprising four packs. My father’s pack is the second-largest pack, which means we're held in fairly high esteem in the area. Plus, the fact that he only has two daughters means that I, as the eldest, am next in line. Well, I was until the Doctor returned to the exam room after running some tests and turned that dream upside down. The look of disappointment on my father’s face makes my heart clench. One night, one man turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. “She is pregnant.” I feel my heart sink into my stomach. No, I can’t be. I only had sex once, and I don’t even remember because I was trashed. How the hell could this be happening? My father casts a stunned look at me from where he sits before returning his gaze to our pack doctor. “It’s wrong; rerun the test. She hasn’t found her mate. She can’t be pregnant,” my father says. I shrink back in my chair. I'm only seventeen, nearly eighteen, and the number one rule all she-wolves have drummed into our heads is to save ourselves for our mates. This is a huge deal, especially to my father. This would bring shame to our family, that I would break the one sacred rule for she-wolves. Sure, the men fool around (a little bias, anyone?) Yet if we do it—especially someone like me in a position of power—it's frowned upon. I would be a disgrace to the family. “Alpha, I have tested the urine sample twice,” Doc Darnel tells him, but my father shakes his head, not believing his words—or not wanting to. “No, test it again; it is wrong. My daughter is not a rogue whore,” he says, finality in his voice. I cringe at his words: a woman who falls pregnant to someone who is not their mate. It's the worst thing to be labeled besides a traitor, though they're treated the same. Rogue whores are forbidden on pack lands, only allowed on neutral territory: the main drag of the city and the two streets behind it on either side. Most she-wolves that fall pregnant in other cities are banished like they do with those that betray or commit treason among the packs; forsaken wolves. Without any pack contact, they turn feral, sending them crazed and mad, and are forced to live outside the cities. No one wants to be on their own out there. It isn’t safe, and not how anyone wants to live. Our city is different. We don’t banish women from the city. Our treatment is slightly more… humane, I guess you could say. Instead, we just make them rogues, free to go about their lives but without pack help. I used to look down on them—those women I would see trying to make ends meet for their 'poor choices.' Maybe this is my karma; I will soon be one of them. Running through this scenario in my head, the room starts to feel like it's running out of air. I wonder if I'm going to pass out. “Yes, Alpha, I will test it again,” Doc Darnel says before rushing out of the room and away from my father’s deadly glare. My father starts pacing, and my heart rate quickens when he stops, turning to face me. “He has to be wrong; you are not like that. You wouldn’t shame me this way,” he says, looking for confirmation. I shrink back in my chair. The Doc coming back in again stops him from saying more. “The results are the same, Alpha,” Doc says before looking at me with pity. I swallow, staring wide-eyed at the pack doctor, hoping he can save me from my father’s wrath, but even I know the elderly, graying man is no match for my father. Neither am I since I still haven’t shifted. After shifting on our eighteenth birthday, we can find our mates. I have seen friends and family go through it. It is considered sacred. I wonder, terrified, how much being pregnant will delay the process. Bodies can’t shift while pregnant; it is a safety mechanism to protect the unborn pup. My father growls, turning on his heel and glaring at me, his fists clenched by his sides as he fights the urge to shift. Often, werewolves shift when they lose their temper or are preparing for a fight. Despite how hard he's trying, he's still barely holding back, his eyes starting to flicker black and his body trembling in his anger. My father has always been so proud of my sister and me, always showing us off and telling everyone about what great daughters we are and what a great Alpha I will be when I take over the pack. I look like him—dark hair and bluish-gray eyes, I got those traits from him—and he raised me in his image, preparing me to take over. But right now, with my face mirrored in his wolf's black orbs, he looks on the verge of killing me. I have never seen him so angry in his life, and that is saying something. “How far along is she?” Father asks. The venom in his words makes my blood run cold. “We can have an ultrasound done next week to confirm gestation,” Doc tells him, and I look at my hands. “No, do it now so we can take care of it before word gets out. I won’t have a rogue whore for a daughter. This is not to get out, do you understand, Doc?” Doc nods his head nervously. Vaguely, I notice my mouth is hanging open as I stare, absolutely gobsmacked at what my father just said. It's going against the Moon Goddess to abort a baby! “Wait!” I say, finally finding my voice. My father looks at me and the Doc moves away from him when he feels my father’s aura rush out. “Wait for what? You aren’t keeping this monstrosity. We can sweep it under the rug, no one has to know, and you can still take the Alpha position; we just need to take care of this poor choice, and then things can go back to normal,” my father says. He makes it sound so simple like this isn’t a sin against the Moon Goddess. “No. I can’t do that, Father. Please, just let me speak with Mom. We can work this out,” I plead with him. “No, you will terminate the pregnancy, then we go home. Doc, get whatever it is you need. I am not leaving this office until this is taken care of,” my father says. I feel tears brimming at his words. Sure, I don’t want to be pregnant, but I am not a murderer; aborting a pregnancy is worse than having a child with someone who is not your mate. “Alpha, I am afraid if your daughter isn’t willing, I can’t perform such a thing unless there is a medical reason.” “She is willing, isn’t that right, Everly?” my father says, trying to force me to agree, but I meet his gaze head-on. My mind is made up; I won’t go through with it. “No!” I tell him, not expecting his following reaction. In all my life, my father has never hit me, never raised a hand to me, and the shock of his action is more painful than the blow itself as his hand connects with the side of my face. I can feel the outline of his fingers etched into my cheek as a burning sensation spreads across it from his palm. “Then you are no longer my daughter,” he says and walks out of the room. Chapter 2 Eight months later Loved ones come and visit the other mothers on the ward, gushing in excitement over their new bundles of joy, eagerly discussing their new additions to the family. The woman across from me is being doted on by her mate. The support he is showing her, the comfort, makes my heart twist painfully, knowing no one is excited to meet my son. No one is coming to check on me or offer support. No one cares for the boy suckling at my breast. Nobody is coming. It is just him and me against the world. But that is ok. I will make it work. The labor was excruciating. It was thirty-four hours and forty-five minutes of pure agony and no comfort, not even from the midwives. They were nothing but rude and mean, telling me to quit crying as I begged them to make the pain stop. I had never felt so vulnerable or alone as when I was in labor. It was hard enough to grow up with the expectations of being the Alpha’s daughter, but then I got pregnant, shunned, and stripped of my title. All for one night. That one night turned my life upside down. How could he throw away his flesh and blood, his own daughter, over her falling pregnant? How could anything so tiny and sweet be called a mistake? Hearing the nurse come in, I look up. She grabs my chart from the end of the bed, looking it over before eyeing me. Glasses teeter on the end of her upturned nose. No one tries to hide their disgust; everyone looks down on me because I had a child with someone who isn’t my mate. That much is evident, that I have no mate because where is he? Not here beside me like the rest of those new mothers on the ward—my mate isn’t here gushing over this newborn baby in my arms. “You really have no idea who the father is?” she asks, clicking her tongue. I know exactly who the father is, but the last thing I need is for him to hunt me down. I already had that run-in. A run-in I would much rather forget when I told him I was carrying his child. He didn’t even remember me. Doesn’t help that he's a rival pack Alpha. It's just easier pretending I don’t know. The shame I have brought my family for being pregnant is bad enough; my father would have killed me for the disrespect of foolishly getting into bed with the Blood Alpha. I watch the nurse flick her red curly hair over her shoulder. “He is cute; shame his mother is a whore,” she sneers, and I see the points of her canines pressing beneath her gums as they protrude past her lips. “Can I get some Tylenol?” I ask, ignoring her comment. I'm feeling a headache coming on. Besides, I've received multiple comments along the same lines since being here—I don’t feel the need to defend myself; there is no point. Nothing I say will make them look at me any differently. “Sorry, can’t. It is not on your charts,” she says. “It’s Tylenol. It’s not like I am asking for morphine,” I tell her. “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t on your charts, so you will have to go without,” she says, dropping the chart on the table beside me. Most women heal directly after giving birth, but I haven’t shifted yet, so I have no such healing ability. “Can I get something to eat at least?” I ask her. I am starving, and breastfeeding is making me ravenous. “You came into the maternity ward after the dinner rounds, and breakfast is at 7 a.m.,” she tells me. I look at the clock and see it is only just after 8 p.m. I nod, knowing this nurse will not help in any way. Crap, every nurse here is horrible because of my situation. Sometimes, I wish I could leave this city, pretend to be human, and just go about my life with my son. The nurse leaves, stopping at the blue curtain that divides the beds. “Did you even think of the repercussions for the father by having a child with someone who isn’t your mate? Did you think of the poor woman who finds her mate in him and one day learns he fathered an illegitimate child to some random she-wolf?” Little did she know that I thought of that every day since learning I was pregnant, but it was his choice, too. I fight back the tears from her words as I stare down at my amber-eyed boy; those eyes are definitely from his father, from what I can remember at least. Mine are light bluish-gray. I've just put my son down after he fell asleep in my arms when I see a nurse walk past. She stops and comes over to me when I wave to her. Her uniform is different; she must be the head midwife or someone higher up on the staff list. Long, pencil-straight hair hangs to her shoulders, slightly obscuring her name tag. I try to read the small writing under her name—Rita—but I can't quite make it out. She must be in her mid-twenties because she seems closer to my age. Well, not really. I am barely eighteen, but still, she looks nicer than the previous nurses. She picks up my chart, flicking through it. “Is there somewhere I can get some water? Or maybe a cup of tea?” I ask, and she glares at me. My stomach drops. Maybe she isn’t so lovely after all. She presses the buzzer behind my head, calling another nurse, yet she still hasn’t answered me. My son starts to stir, and I reach over and grab him out of his crib as another nurse comes in, my stomach cramping from the sudden movement. “Why is she in here?” the head nurse asks, making me look at her. I just had a baby. Why else? I think to myself. The new nurse looks over at me. Her hands tremble slightly—this head midwife obviously instills fear in her colleagues. “Get her to the unmated section. We don’t need her disturbing the mothers in this ward,” the woman says before turning her nose up at me and walking out. Turns out, Rita is a bitch, like the rest of them. I stare, disgusted by this hospital’s bedside manner. The girl in the curtained-off room beside me speaks. “I knew something was up with her, Hun; her mate never visited her. No one has. Now I know why,” she says to her mate. She's right. We are allowed one person with us constantly while in here. The girl next to me, her mate hasn’t left her side since I got here. The person across from me had multiple people come in during the night, and her mate also hasn’t left. I try to ignore their mates gushing over them and tending to their every need while I sit here, getting nothing but sneers and judgment. The bed moves as the nurse begins rolling me out of the room. Because I am sitting upright, I have to grab the bar that runs along the side to stop from falling back. She wheels me through the maternity ward before going down a corridor; I appear to be leaving the maternity unit altogether. The nurse finally stops at a curtained-off area and places the bed against the wall. The woman then turns on her heel and leaves. “Wait, can I get some water?” But she has already gone and didn’t even acknowledge my question. “I wouldn’t bother. They won’t help us,” comes a voice before someone jerks the partitioning curtain away to reveal two other girls. One looks to be in her mid-twenties with long, curly dark hair and sparkling green eyes. The other girl is around sixteen, with her dark blonde hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head. “My name is Macey,” the oldest of them says. “Hi. Everly,” I reply. “Her name is Zoe. Welcome to the shunned mothers club,” Macey chuckles before looking down at her baby. She sighs heavily. “Don’t expect them to help; they won’t. Seriously, you’re best off getting out as soon as you can,” Macey tells me. “But they are supposed to,” I tell her, feeling disheartened. “Yeah, I have been here two days; baby has a few problems. Half the time, they don’t answer when I buzz, and forget about them feeding you. I haven’t received anything since being here,” Macey explains before reaching to the foot of her bed and pulling a bag toward her. She rummages through it before pulling out a granola bar. “Here. You must be starving. I was, and I came prepared expecting this,” Macey explains. “You had a baby before?” I ask, unable to imagine going through this again. She shakes her head. “No, this is my first. My mom was a single mother, too. We are rogues like you,” she says. I open the granola bar, my stomach growling at the sight of food. “Boy or girl?” I ask the younger girl, who seems rather shy. “Girl. Yours?” “Boy,” I tell her. “Thanks,” I tell Macey before biting into the granola bar. “Plenty in there, just help yourself. I brought extras in case there were other girls. Which pack are you from? Your aura feels quite strong for a rogue?” she says, staring at me. “Alpha blood,” I tell her. Her eyebrows raise in shock. “In that case, you don’t have to tell me. I understand why you would want to keep that to yourself. Zoe was born rogue—so was I,” she says, and I glance at Zoe, who nods. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you girls living? Are there any refuges or anything for women?” “I have a place at a refuge. But I know it’s full to capacity,” Zoe says, a look of sorrow etching her face as if she wishes she could help more. “Me? I live with my mom and my brother,” Macey tells me. “Where are you staying? No family would help?” Zoe asks. I shake my head. “No. We will be alright. I will come up with something,” I tell them, hoping that will be true, though I have been living in my busted station wagon, which cost me $500 for the last eight months. It saddens me that we are pushed aside, but the next day, both girls help me, for which I am grateful. Macey continues to share her food, and she was right—not once did anyone come to check on us, no food was brought to us, nothing. Shunned for having a baby, and we suddenly don’t matter anymore. Chapter 3 Two weeks later Tap, Tap, Tap. I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in before he moves it around, looking in the back. I put my hand up when the light flashes across my face, blinding me. He quickly moves it to the side. “Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle-aged man tells me; he must be city security, judging by his uniform. My son—who I decided to name Valarian—stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his flashlight away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops. “Look, I've noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station.” He sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him. “You really have no place to go? No family?” he asks. “No, the council kicked me out of the park,” I say matter-of-factly. He sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot. “What about the baby’s father?” I shake my head, knowing that isn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me about the pregnancy—refused to see me, even when I begged him to let me show him the ultrasound pictures. Every time I tried to call after that, he hung up the moment he heard my voice. After a while, I gave up. “You know there are people out there that would take him—then you could probably go home.” “I am not abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him, outraged he would even suggest it. “This is no life for a child. You’re young. If you give him up, you could have a normal life. Something to think about: I will give you another week to find somewhere else. After that, you need to move on,” he says, and I nod before winding the window up. I watch him leave before settling my son and putting him back to bed in the fruit box beside me—I have always been paranoid about accidentally rolling on him while asleep. Tugging the blanket up over both of us, I try to get comfortable. Yet, all I can think is. This is not how I intended to bring my son into this world. I thought it would be different and that I would have figured out something by now. A single tear runs down my cheek as I think of his words. “This is no life for a child.” Am I being selfish? However, the thought of giving him up breaks my heart. He is mine. I loved him and would give my life for my little man. Isn’t that enough? I can’t deny the bond between us. *** Waking up the following day, I groan; it is pouring with rain. It's still early. I rummage through the back for my umbrella before slipping my shoes on. Making sure Valarian is bundled nice and warm, I grab my empty bucket in one hand and pop the umbrella up as I open the hatchback. Sliding the bucket to the crook of my elbow, I raise the umbrella with the same hand. I then pick up my son in my free arm and make a run for it to the train station bathrooms, paying extra care not to slip on the wet ground. That would be disastrous. Once I get into the large, handicapped stall, I shove the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hate about being homeless is holding my son while going to the bathroom. I can’t place him down anywhere, making it hard to use the toilet while making sure not to drop him. When I finish, I slide my pants up with one hand, which is difficult while holding my son, then awkwardly wash my hand before turning the faucet off. Now the tricky part—holding an umbrella, a newborn, and a now-full bucket of water. Somehow, I manage it and make it back to the car before placing the bucket down and quickly opening the hatchback to my wagon. I crawl in and set my son in his bed before hauling my tiny bucket in. Lathering my washcloth with soap, I give him a wash down before dressing him in a clean diaper and clothes so he's all nice and fresh for the day. Using the remaining water, I also give myself a wash, longing for a shower. Gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I use the rest stop ones occasionally, but right now, I have no fuel to get there and can’t risk spending my limited funds. When mom and dad kicked me out, I had a small amount of savings. I also worked at the Chinese restaurant on the main street while pregnant to keep saving. The savings didn’t last long with buying baby clothes and non-perishable food, though. And now that he's born, I've been spending money on diapers. Not to mention, since my milk dried up from stress and lack of nutrition before I left the hospital, I am forced to stock up on formula and bottled water too. My car looks like a mini supermarket, but I am starting to get low on the formula again. Rummaging through my wallet, I find my last $100. I need to think of something fast. This won’t see us through much longer. Sighing, I lean back on my door, watching the rain. The restaurant won’t take me back—I tried that—and my parents obviously aren’t an option. His father wouldn’t even let me on pack territory when I requested to see him. I still remember when I got his number to call him that first time; what a nightmare that was. He laughed and said there was no way he would sleep with a seventeen-year-old. To be fair, I was not supposed to be in that part of the club at the hotel. My sister and I wanted to meet the older Alphas, not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty. So with fake IDs, we snuck in while the meeting was going on in the conference hall. Alpha Valen was just as drunk as I was, so it's no wonder he can’t remember me. I barely remember anything. What I do remember is how I felt that night—the pull to him for some reason—and he must have felt it too. I know I didn’t imagine it. Shaking the vague memory away, I grab a granola bar and start eating. My belly is rumbling. Oh, what I would do for a home-cooked meal. I love mom’s cooking. She's the best cook! A tear slips down my cheek and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My father had it disconnected, but I like to look at the photos of when I was still part of the family. I miss my little sister—I wish I could see her, even just once more. I spend most of the day just trying to figure out what I can do about money. The security guard’s words eat at me. “This is no life for a child.” I am failing. I need help and don’t know who to ask. When it starts to get dark, the five o’clock train pulls in. I try to light my candle so I can see in the growing darkness, but my lighter has finally run out of fuel. Popping the trunk to get out, I grab my umbrella and glance around, hoping to find someone smoking—someone approachable—to ask to borrow one. “Excuse me, do you have a…” The man in his tailored suit walks past, looking down at me. I try over and over again, ignored by everyone that passes. Feeling disheartened, I'm about to hop back in the car when I see a younger man in a neat suit. I've seen him a few times. He catches the early train and is always home on the five o’clock train. He's always dressed nicely in suits that compliment his brownish-blond hair and green eyes, and his muscular build puts him a good foot taller than me. The man stares at me warily as I approach, and I stop when I feel his aura—he has Beta blood. He looks familiar for some reason and I finally place him; he is one of the Betas from the Alpha meet. He's Beta to Alpha Valen. I pretend I don’t recognize him because he definitely doesn’t remember me, and I know he can’t feel my aura. I've been rogue for so long now, my aura is almost nonexistent. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t shifted. I want to, need to, but what do I do with my son? “Can I borrow a lighter if you have one?” I blurt out quickly before he waves me away; everyone usually assumes I'm asking for money. He stops, staring at me for a second. “Fine,” he says, rustling inside his pocket before handing me a green lighter. I run back to the car and light the candle that sits on a plate in my vehicle. Only, when I turn around, I find him behind me, having followed me the few yards back to my car. I jump, not expecting him to be so close. “Thank you,” I tell him, passing it back. He nods, then begins to leave, walking around the side of my car just as my son cries out. Chapter 4 “Shh, shh, I’m coming,” I whisper, pulling the hatchback down until something stops it. I turn to see what it caught on, only for it to be pulled open by the Beta. “Is that a baby you have in there?” he asks, and my heart thunders in my chest nervously. Will he call child services on me? My son cries louder, and I reach for him. The man’s eyes dart to him before he sniffs the air. I stare back at him, confused, and tug my son to my chest as if he’s threatening to take him away from me. “It’s only temporary; please don’t call child services,” I tell him, and he cocks his head to the side. His gaze appears to be more thoughtful than scrutinizing. “Does your car run?” he asks, looking at it before he kicks a tire. “I have no fuel. I will leave tomorrow, I promise,” I tell him, panicking. Maybe he's a council worker? I doubt it because of his expensive suit. He looks at me, his nose scrunching slightly. “You smell familiar,” he mutters. I swallow, wondering if he remembers me, but he doesn’t appear to, and I also don’t want him questioning which pack I was from. My father and his Alpha are not on good terms. Yet, maybe if he could get me in to see Alpha Valen, he might help with his son. However, that thought also frightens me—having to face the man who ignored me and refused to even do a DNA test. He declined to come check—stating my claims were lies—but if he just met him, he would see. We can always sense our kin. I stare at the Beta, wondering if he'll leave, but he pushes the hatchback open further before reaching in. I scoot further back, looking for a weapon in case I need it. “Calm down. I can’t leave you here knowing you are sleeping in your car with a baby,” he says, grabbing the car seat. “I will leave; just don’t take my son,” I tell him. He looks at me like I am mad. “I’m not.” And his eyes mean it. “I want to help.” He’s being sincere. “You want to help?” I repeat, slightly disbelieving. I must have heard that wrong. “Come on, you can stay at the packhouse until I speak to my Alpha,” he says, waving me forward. “Grab a change of clothes. We can come back to your car tomorrow,” he says. Terrified, I don’t move. It's been so long since anyone has helped me. He sighs before grabbing a bag and stuffing a can of formula, the diaper bag, and some of my clothes inside the bigger bag. “Come on, wouldn’t you rather have a warm house than a cold car?” he asks. I look down at my son, wondering if I should trust him. He grabs the car seat. I climb out, and he hands me my umbrella before shutting my trunk. “This way,” he says, walking to his car. I follow him to his electric blue sports-looking car. I always wondered why he doesn’t drive to work. And why would he leave such an expensive car at a train station? He puts the seat in before scratching his head. “You know how to clip it in?” he asks, and I nod. “Okay, you put it in, and I will hold your…” His eyes dart to my son. “Son,” I tell him, and he nods, holding out his arms for him. He takes him from me, and I lean in, making sure to keep an eye on him while I clip the seat in before turning around. Retrieving the baby, I clip him in his chair before climbing in beside him. The Beta then passes me the bag before shutting my door. He turns the heater on when he hops in before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Your son has odd-colored eyes—reminds me of my Alpha’s. He is the only person I know with amber eyes besides his father,” he says. I look at the man, and he looks away, looking back at the road. He definitely has his father’s eyes, but I keep my mouth shut. Though maybe this would be my chance, he would be able to tell if he saw his own son. We can sense our own family, plus their resemblance is unmistakable. “Who is your Alpha?” I ask, pretending I don’t know. “Valen, the Blood Alpha,” he says, his eyes darting to mine in the mirror again, gauging my reaction to his words. I feel excitement bubble in me, knowing I am correct in who he is. “He will be fine with you bringing a rogue into the territory?” I ask him. “He won’t be there, and I will speak with him tomorrow. Are you hungry?” he asks, and my belly rumbles loudly at the mention of food. He chuckles at the noise. “I will take that as a yes,” he says, and my face heats. I give my son his binky, his amber eyes peering at me in the darkness of the car. “What’s your name?” “Everly,” I answer him. “Odd name. What pack were you from, or were you born rogue?” “No, I was in a pack,” I answer. I refuse to tell him which one; it's no secret my family’s pack and the Blood-Alpha are constantly at war. “Your name? I can tell you have Beta blood,” I tell him. “Marcus, and yes, I am Valen's Beta,” he says before pulling into a drive-thru. I grab my wallet. “I don’t want your money,” he says before ordering for himself. "What do you want?" I don’t say anything, feeling awkward, so he orders two of the same thing. “Is he asleep?” he asks, and I look at my son. I nod as he pulls up to the next window. “Climb in the front,” he says, which makes me look at my son again, worried. “I don’t bite, climb over,” he says while patting the passenger seat. I unclip my seatbelt before climbing over into the front. Placing the seatbelt on quickly, I notice that he doesn’t have a mark on his neck; he hasn’t found his mate yet. A bite on the neck always means that anyone, man or woman, has been “marked” by their mate. He opens some cupholders and places the drinks in them before passing me a paper bag. “You can eat in the car,” he says. I thank him and I open his burger box for him, letting him take it out. Marcus pulls over on the side of the road before flicking the interior light on so we can see before turning in his seat to face me. “Eat. I won’t hurt you.” I open the burger box, the smell making my stomach melt. My hands are shaking as I retrieve the burger. “Are you cold?” he asks, turning the heat up. I nod my head. It's a lie. I was fine in the car; it's the fact I haven’t eaten a hot meal in ages or even just actual food that isn’t canned spaghetti or granola bars. I bite into the burger and a sob nearly escapes my lips; I am quick to suppress it so he doesn't hear. I chew slowly, savoring the taste and the warmth. Looking up, I see that he is watching me while eating his burger. I blush feeling embarrassed that he is staring. He must think I am pathetic. I feel pathetic accepting a stranger's help, and almost crying over a damn burger. “Thank you,” I tell him while taking a sip of the cold Coke. It fizzes in my throat and on my tongue but tastes so good. “Where is your family?” he asks curiously. “He is my only family,” I tell him, looking at my son. “They tossed you, didn’t they, for being unmated?” I swallow, looking down. “My mother was a single mother, not a rogue, though. My dad died and she raised me alone. She struggled, but she had the pack. Must be hard having no one to help at all,” he says. I don’t say anything. What can I say? I am the disgraced daughter of an Alpha? We eat in silence, and for the first time in ages, I feel full, yet still, he hands me his fries, telling me to eat them before starting the car again. After twenty minutes of driving, I realize we're getting close to my old pack when he turns onto a road going in the opposite direction. It takes another twenty minutes of driving through his territory before he pulls up at a large, three-story house. I can hardly see through the darkness of the night, but I can tell it's modern-looking. “Are you okay? Stepping across didn’t make you feel sick?” I shake my head. It's odd. Usually, rogues feel sick crossing a border, but I don’t. “Huh. Odd,” he mutters. “Are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?” I ask a little nervous about being in pack territory when I am a rogue. “Yeah, no one is here, and you can stay in my room tonight; I have pack patrol, so I won't be home.” I nod. “The Alpha won’t mind?” I ask. “Na, he won’t even know until I see him tomorrow. He's in the city partying tonight; you will have the place to yourself,” he says, opening his door. I climb out before walking around the car and grabbing my son. Marcus places my bag over his shoulder and puts his hand on my lower back, showing me to the front door. I watch as he unlocks the door before motioning for me to enter. Chapter 5 Stepping inside, Marcus flicks on the hallway light, and I can finally see better. The entire place is spotless. White marble floors and a massive staircase lead up to the next level. I can’t see in the rooms off the side of the foyer; he didn't turn those lights on, but if the foyer is anything to go by, the rest of the house must be breathtaking. It is way over the top; nothing I wouldn’t expect of the Blood Alpha. They are the wealthiest pack and have half the city under their claim. “This way,” he says, motioning for me to follow. I trail after him up two flights of stairs before he stops at a black door. He pushes it open to reveal a king-size mahogany bed with a canopy. Matching furniture and a large black rug sit on the floor. Built into the wall is a flat-screen TV, and he turns it on before turning the volume down a bit. To one side, I can also see a door leading to a balcony. “Obviously, I don't have a crib, but the bed is comfy, and the bathroom is through those doors. It's shared with Alpha Valen's room next door, but I'm sure he won't be by tonight. He'll probably stay at his apartment in the city. Towels are in there, and I will be back to check on you at 6 a.m. I'll take you to see the Alpha then,” he says before heading into the walk-in closet and grabbing some clothes for himself. “The Kitchen is downstairs if you're hungry, and I'll see you later,” he tells me before walking out the door. I look around for a moment, then flick the space heater on to warm the room. “This is nice, Bubba. And tomorrow, you can meet your father,” I whisper to him. I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. There’s no way the Alpha can deny his son once he meets him. He'll know with just one look at him that he is his. He'll be able to sense that. Finally, things were looking up. I’d have help, well, maybe not me, but I know he’ll provide for his son. Walking into the bathroom, I gasp. It's white marble and white tiles with a gold finish. One wall is all mirrors above the basin, and the shower could easily fit three people. But the most exciting part is that the sink is the perfect size to bathe Valarian. He hasn’t taken a proper bath since the hospital. I just know he’ll love it. I instantly start prepping the sink with warm water, using my elbow to test it before stripping his clothes off and settling him in the water while ensuring I hold his head above the water. He moves his arms and legs, swishing the water and murmuring happily while eating his hands. I chuckle watching him splash. Once the water gets cool, I get him out. I drain the water and wrap him in a towel before patting him dry and laying him on the bed while I dress him. After his bottle, he falls asleep quickly, almost like he knows he’s safe here. I prop pillows around him to ensure he doesn't fall off the bed before walking back to the bathroom, leaving the door open so that I can hear him. After quickly stripping my clothes off, I turn the shower on and step under the warm spray. Marcus didn't mention using the bath products, but I assume it is okay, and use the shower gel and shampoo to give myself the deepest wash I’ve had in what feels like a year. Halfway through wrapping the fluffy towel around myself, I suddenly hear voices, drunken stumbling, a woman giggling, and I freeze. Someone is here. I snatch my clothes off the sink basin and am about to run into Marcus's room when the bathroom door opens and a beautiful red-haired woman walks in wearing a skimpy dress. She stops when she notices me. Her extremely tight dress leaves little to the imagination, and she is clearly intoxicated, as a cloud of alcohol wafts in after her. She looks me up and down before growling at me, her top lip pulling back over her teeth. “What are you doing in here, rogue?” she barks. “I… Beta Marcus… He said.” My heart thumps wildly in my chest. Stuttering, I attempt to explain when the door is shoved open, and a man storms in. No, not a man, the blood Alpha. He also reeks heavily of whiskey, the smell so strong it burns my nose, yet I can’t tear my eyes from his amber ones. He is absolutely gorgeous, even while heavily intoxicated and barely able to stand upright. He's tall, too, and way bulkier than I remember, with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow. But his eyes, those eyes I can’t look away from. They glow like the embodiment of autumn. It feels like someone fried my brain to a crisp, and all I can do is stare, my brain screaming at me, my senses overloaded with his essence. Mate! The blood Alpha. He's. My. Mate. I know it, feel it, with every fiber of my being, even without having shifted yet. I am of age now, and I feel my heart flutter excitedly. I’ve found my mate! Taking a step toward him, I reach out to him, but his lips pull back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines. His face, his gorgeous face, is twisted in anger. I gasp, realizing he's too intoxicated to recognize me. Instead, he rushes toward me. His hands grab my throat, and he pushes me against the cold, tiled wall. “What the fuck is a rogue doing in my house!” he screams before sniffing me. I can’t talk; his grip is tight, restricting my airway. He sniffs me again before shaking his head. Then he shoves me back before commanding me. “Get out of my house now before I have you killed!” he roars, and my stomach sinks somewhere deep inside me. He can't recognize me. I could just as easily be some random rogue whore off the street to him with how drunk he is. However, he keeps sniffing the air, his body telling him something is amiss. It’s just that his brain cannot register me at all. My heart sinks. The woman behind him is clearly enjoying this confrontation; probably hoping he'll kill me; a rogue on pack land. I never should have come here. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Not even my own mate will help me. This was my only chance at showing him that he's a father, and now it just went out the window. “Wait, but, you're my–” I plead desperately. “Get out!” he screams, and I flinch, his Command rolling over me. I snatch my clothes from where I dropped them, rushing into Marcus's room and pulling them on. As much as I desperately wish I could continue arguing, his Command leaves me powerless. And the more I fight it, the more it hurts. Alpha wolves, once they reach maturity, can use a certain voice, a Command, that the recipient must obey, by fighting it, the pain grows until they submit to it. “Come on, baby,” the woman purrs, clutching him. Tears brim in my eyes while I snatch my things up, unable to do anything against his Command, unable to explain myself. Wrapping my son in his blanket and tucking him against me, I grab my bag before rushing down the steps. Pain suddenly tears through me, taking my breath away. Clutching the banister, my stomach cramps, making me cry out and my legs buckle. I grit my teeth, agony tearing my heart apart. They’re obviously fucking. I’ve heard that women know when their mates are unfaithful—can feel it—but I got to meet him with another woman. I didn't think it would hurt like this; I never envisioned this pain when teachers explained. He hasn't even marked me. Running down the steps, I rush out the door. It's pouring with rain as a storm rolls across the night sky. And I am miles from my car, yet his Command told me to leave and gives me no choice. Looking around helplessly, I start running, pulling my son under my shirt to shield him from the cold. My legs are moving me with nowhere to go as I desperately try to figure out where to find shelter. I don't know how long I run for, but I suddenly find myself on the city's main street—the line separating Nightshade Pack from Shadowmoon Pack, my father's pack, my old territory. My old house is only a ten-minute run from here. Maybe he'll take pity on me; perhaps he might change his mind once he meets his grandson. I can only hope, at least for my son’s sake. I swallow, knowing I have no choice, or I'll be in the rain all night with a baby. Deciding to take my chances, I start running home. I run the entire way before stopping in front of my old home. The lights are all off. My heart twists as I look up the driveway of the single-story, lavish house. Growing up, I played with the pack kids in this street and rode my bike along the footpath with my sister. My father used to toss the football with us on this very lawn after work when we were little or help us climb the massive tree that sits on the side of the driveway. This was home. Standing here, I suddenly miss my old life, miss my family; I just hope they miss me too. Chapter 6 Quietly sneaking up the side of the house, I stop at my sister's bedroom window—she's asleep in her bed. I tap on the window and see movement; she flicks her lamp on, squinting around the room before looking at the window. Seeing me waving at her, Ava's mouth opens, and she's immediately on alert as she rushes over. As soon as she throws her window open, I pass her my bag, which she places on the floor before taking Valarian from me, so I can climb through the window. “Sis!” she cries, hugging me. I inhale her scent, tears flowing down my cheeks, before pulling back to look at her. I am soaked, absolutely drenched, my hair dripping from the rain, but she doesn't seem to notice. She clutches her mouth before a sob escapes her. “I was hoping you would come back.” She looks down at my son in awe. “He's beautiful,” she chokes out. I gently close the window as she hugs Valarian close, smelling his tiny head. “Gosh, I've missed you so much. Dad wouldn't let me look for you; he has me on a tight leash,” she says, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Grab some dry clothes, take whatever you want,” she whispers while pointing at her dresser. I rummage through her drawers and find some warm clothes, trying to be quiet so I don't wake my parents down the hall. After putting on some of her pajamas, I have to roll the waistband of the pants to hold them up. My sister watches me before she breaks down again. “You're so skinny,” she sobs, sinking onto her bed and looking at my body. She's right—you can see most of my ribs and my hip bones jut out. I've lost so much weight, this is the smallest I have ever been. “I'm fine, Ava. I'm okay,” I try to reassure her, rummaging through my bag to retrieve a diaper. Thankfully, between my shirt and the blanket that was wrapped around him, Valarian was able to stay dry. She just shakes her head, looking at my son as she rocks him. I sit next to her, and she moves over on the bed to give me space, leaning back against the wall. Together, we watch my son fall asleep in her arms. Laying my head down on her shoulder, I suddenly break down. Ava tries to soothe me, but I can feel her crying silently beside me. Ava was my best friend. It is almost impossible to beat a sister bond, someone who knows your hardships, knows what it's like to grow up with the parents you have, someone who shares every milestone with you and every heartbreak. How times have changed? I've missed having someone to talk to. The only interactions I’ve had were judgmental glares or a few words to show their disgust with me. Nobody asked how I was—nobody cared—and I was stupid enough to believe Beta Marcus would be able to help, stupid enough to think my mate would accept me. “How is mom?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. “She's okay; she asked Dad for a divorce when he kicked you out. But you know Mom, she would never leave him,” she tells me, and I nod. It's unheard of for mates to get divorced. The bond stops mates from being separated. It weakens them; two souls, together, or that's how it's supposed to be. Not for me, I guess. I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life feeling my mate whenever he's with another woman who isn’t me. I'm not looking forward to raising our son on my own or being alone. When Valarian stirs, I get up and grab his formula before realizing I have no bottled water. Ava passes my son to me before grabbing his bottle from my hand. “How much?” she whispers. “Four ounces,” I tell her, and she nods, opening the door just as my son cries out loudly. I try to muffle the noise and soothe him by giving him his binky, but he spits it out and lets out an ear-piercing scream. My sister stares at me in panic. Quickly, she tries to close the door, but within seconds it is thrown open and bangs against the wall, causing Valarian to scream even louder. My father storms in and his eyes instantly find me. A growl escapes him. I cower away, shielding my son. Ava gets between us, trying to shield me from my enraged father, but he shoves her out of the way before stalking toward me. “Please, Dad, please!” I beg. He grabs my hair, and I scream. So does my son in my arms as I try not to drop him. My reflexes want to pull his hands away; instead, I hold my son for dear life, letting my hair tug painfully from my scalp. “Mom! Mom!” Ava starts screaming frantically before I hear feet slapping on the tiles in the hall. “Please, Dad! Mom, help me! Mom, please!” I beg her when she rushes in, her mouth open in shock as my father starts dragging me toward the front door by my hair. My mother grips his arm, pleading with him. “John, please let her go; she has a baby in her arms.” He shoves her aside before dragging me down the hall to the front of the house. “Dad, please, it's raining outside,” Ava begs. My mother is also desperately trying to stop him. My father doesn't care; he growls at them, ignoring them and my cries. He's just opened the front door when my mother shoves him. “John! She is our daughter! Please,” she begs, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face. “That whore is not my daughter,” he growls, his canines protruding. “Dad, please, it's freezing outside,” Ava begs. “I said no! I will not have a rogue whore for a daughter!” he screams, his face turning red in his anger. “Then take him, please. I will stay outside; just don't put him out. Please, Dad, he's your grandson,” I choke out. He growls at me, his hand shoving me out the door. He's about to shut the door in my face when I try once more. “Please just look at him, Dad. He'll get sick. Just one night. Then I will leave,” I plead. My mother reaches for Valarian, but my father pushes her behind him. “John, at least let me take him! Let me take my Grandson!” my mother cries. He lets me go, looking down at my son before staring at my mother, who is sobbing, her hands outstretched for him. Those same hands that held mine when I was a little girl, now grasping the air for my son. “Give him to her, but you stay out. You aren't welcome in my house,” he says before walking off. My mother rushes over to grab Valarian before hugging me briefly. “I will watch him; I'll stay by the window,” she says, and I nod. “Ava has his baby bag,” I tell her. My sister clutches my fingers, nodding. Tears roll down her cheeks as her lips quiver. “It's okay, Ava. I will be fine,” I tell my sister behind her before my dad yells at them, making them jump. “I'm sorry, I have to,” my mother says, closing the door. I nod. The curtain in the living room opens, and the lamp flicks on. I see my sister rush off toward the kitchen, and my mother sits on the lounge with him next to the window, so I can see him. Leaning over, my mother cracks the window so she can speak to me. “He has your nose,” she says, smiling sadly at me, and I smile, sitting on the chair out front on the porch. I shiver; my sister’s flannel pajamas become soaked as the rain blows toward me where I sit, listening and watching my mother through the window feeding my son his bottle. At least he is warm and dry, I think to myself. Huddled up on the chair, I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to warm myself and shield myself from the cold and the strong gusts of wind. It doesn’t take long before I start shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth chatter so hard I feel like they'll break. My mother taps on the glass where my head rests—I can see her heartbreak at watching me sit in the cold, stormy weather. “Shift sweetie. Shift to try to stay warm,” she says, placing her palm on the glass. “I haven't shifted yet,” I tell her, and she looks at me sadly. Shifting is a big thing with werewolves; it is a coming of age. Your wolf is meant to represent your future in the pack. I haven’t shifted yet, but when I do, it will not be celebratory like it is for most wolves; it will be purely a necessity. What is there to celebrate? My failures; the fact I am pack-less and homeless; that I am raising a baby on my own because the father refuses to believe he got with a seventeen-year-old; because he can’t recognize me as his mate.

Chapter 1: OLIVE's POV I had three client presentations due tomorrow and a marketing strategy that was nowhere near finished, but all I could think about was Cole coming home in two weeks. It had been two months since I'd seen him in person. Two months of video calls and texts that came later and later each night. Grayson would tell me I was overthinking again. My stepfather had been the steady one since Mom remarried ten years ago—the kind of dad who actually showed up, who remembered what mattered. I pulled my laptop onto the bed, staring at the half-finished campaign for Hopkins Company. Pathetic. I shoved the laptop aside and reached for my nightstand drawer. The feeling of having my vibe pressed right where I needed it, imagining Cole in his blue practice jersey, hair slicked back, hands braced on the headboard above me… Close. So close. The door slammed open. My mother stood in the doorway like she hadn't just walked in on something she definitely shouldn't have seen. When I scrambled to sit up, tangled in my sheets and trying to shove the vibe under my pillow, she smiled. Actually smiled. "Oh darling, I'm so sorry I interrupted. But playtime's over." "God, Mom, knocking is a thing adults do." My face was on fire. I shoved the vibe into my nightstand drawer so fast I almost broke my finger. "Your door was wide open, Olive. Be grateful it was me and not Hunter." God, if my stepbrother had walked in on that I'd have to move to another state. "Mom, stop. Please just stop talking." She pressed her lips together, but amusement danced in her eyes. I wanted to die right there. Living in the renovated space above the garage was supposed to give me independence, but it didn't stop my mother from barging in whenever she felt like it. Still, it beat paying two grand a month for some shoebox apartment in Seattle. "We need to talk to you." Her voice changed, got serious. "Grayson and I have some exciting news." Exciting news in this family usually meant something that benefited everyone except me. "Olive Monroe, I want you downstairs in five minutes or I'm dragging you out of that bed myself." The second the door closed I grabbed my phone. I needed to hear Cole's voice, needed something good to balance out whatever disaster my parents were about to drop on me. I hit his contact. One ring. Two rings. Three. Cole always answered. Always picked up when I called. The screen flickered—video call accepted—and suddenly I was staring at a shaking camera propped up on something, angled weird. I could see him. Cole. Not alone. "Oh god, yes—Cole, right there—" A woman's voice hit me first, high-pitched and breathless. For a second my brain couldn't process what I was seeing. Cole on his back, head thrown against the pillow, mouth open as he groaned. A girl on top of him, blonde hair spilling down her back as she moved. "Fuck, you feel so good—" "Sophia—Christ, Sophia—" His name for her. The way he said it like it was something precious. The phone jolted with every thrust. I should've hung up. Should've thrown my phone across the room and pretended I'd never seen this, never heard this. I just sat there like an idiot. Frozen. Watching my boyfriend of two years moan another woman's name. "God, I'm close—Cole, I'm so close—" His hands gripped her hips and pulled her down harder. That deep groan I thought he only made with me— The phone slipped from my fingers. It clattered onto my bed face-up. I could still hear them—the wet sounds, her moans, his name in her mouth over and over. Two years. Two years of standing in freezing arenas watching him play. Two years of driving three hours just to see him for a weekend. Two years of wearing his jersey like any of it mattered. The entire time he'd been with someone else. Someone named Sophia. I grabbed the phone and stabbed at the screen until the call ended. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hit the right button. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry over him. But my throat was tight and my eyes were burning and I hated that I could still hear her voice in my head. I pressed my palms against my eyes hard enough that it hurt. He wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth a single tear, wasn't worth the two years I'd given him or any of it. But my face was already wet. ******* I didn't bother fixing my hair or washing my face before heading downstairs. What was the point. The main house smelled like coffee and whatever my mom had baked earlier that week. The second I opened the door both my parents' heads snapped toward me. "I was about to come drag you out of—" Mom stopped mid-sentence. "Olive, what's wrong?" I tried to say something, anything, but the second she asked, it was like a dam broke inside my chest. I sobbed, ugly and gasping. Grayson was already moving. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled me against his chest, one hand going to my hair and the other to my back, holding me while I fell apart. "Shh, hey, it's okay, you're okay." "I caught him cheating." My voice sounded wrecked. Silence. Complete silence. I watched Mom's mouth fall open. Watched Grayson's jaw get tight. "That Buffalo pretty boy with the perfect hair?" Mom's voice came out sharp now. Angry. "Diane," Grayson warned. "You deserve better than him, Olive. You always have." I wanted to believe him. Right now all I could think about was Cole's face, about the way he'd looked at me the last time and said I love you right before asking if I could pick up his dry cleaning. "We actually had something we wanted to tell you." Mom's voice softened. "Hunter got the call. He's officially playing for the Chicago Wolves." My stomach dropped. "He got called up?" The promise I'd made eight months ago, ‘when you make the NHL, I'll be front row at your first game’ crashed into the reality of Cole's face, Cole's team, Cole's city. Hunter had been there for me through everything. Every breakup, every bad day, every moment I needed someone who understood what it felt like to be the spare part in someone else's story. "The game is next week," Grayson added quietly. "I know the timing is complicated." "Cole is on that team." My voice cracked. "I can't—I can't see him right now." "Then don't look at him," Mom said sharply. "You made a promise to your brother." Guilt twisted in my chest because she was right. I had promised. Back when it seemed like a far-off dream, something sweet and hypothetical, we'd joked about over pizza and bad movies. Now it was real and the timing couldn't be worse. "We have tickets to his first game. Exclusive access—" "I don't know if I can do this." Grayson squeezed my shoulder. "Hunter would understand if you couldn't make it. But he really wants you there, sweetheart." Mom grabbed a magazine off the coffee table and dropped it into my lap. "That's your brother right there. Front page of Sports Illustrated." I looked down at Hunter's face staring back at me. The headline read NEW BLOOD: The Wolves' Secret Weapon. Pride swelled in my chest despite everything. He'd worked so hard for this. I flipped to the next page, trying to focus on anything other than the thought of seeing Cole again. What I saw made my entire body go still. An ad for some energy drink. But I barely registered what the product was. The man in the photo had his shirt half-unbuttoned. Abs so defined they didn't even look real. The energy drink tipped against his mouth, liquid spilling over his bottom lip, dripping down his jaw and his throat. His eyes were piercing. Cold blue. Staring directly at the camera like he could see through the page. Like he could see me. My thighs clenched. "Olive?" Grayson's voice snapped me back. I'd been staring at the photo for way too long. "Yeah, sorry, I just—" I cleared my throat. "Who's this guy?" Grayson's entire expression changed. Got dark and tight. He gripped his coffee mug hard enough I thought it might crack. "Zane Mercer." The way he said the name made it sound like it physically hurt him. "Who?" "My nemesis." His voice was completely flat. "Your nemesis? What are you, a supervillain?" "He's the NHL's top player," Mom said, her voice careful now. "And he's made Grayson's life hell since he started coaching. That man did things that forced him to leave the game entirely." I'd heard stories over the years. Vague references about someone who'd ruined everything, someone powerful and untouchable who'd destroyed his coaching career. But I'd never heard an actual name. Zane Mercer. Top player for the Chicago Wolves. And apparently the last person Grayson wanted me thinking about. I stared at the photo again. At those cold blue eyes, that dangerous jaw, the body that looked like it had been carved from stone. At least if I had to spend a week in Chicago watching my ex-boyfriend pretend I didn't exist, there'd be something worth looking at. I closed the magazine and stood up, tucking it under my arm before either of them could take it back. "Fine. I'll go to Chicago." Mom blinked at me. "Really?" "Really." I met Grayson's eyes. "I promised Hunter I'd be there for his first game. I'm not breaking that promise because Cole turned out to be a piece of shit." Grayson's expression softened. Relief mixed with something that looked like pride. "Besides," I added, trying to be casual even though my heart was racing, "maybe watching some hockey will help me move on." Chapter 2: OLIVE's POV Chapter 2: OLIVE's POV "I'm not going to the game. What the fuck was I thinking?" I slammed my forehead against my desk hard enough that my monitor shook. Making life decisions based on a magazine photo? That was a new low, even for me. Brenda didn't even look up from her computer. "You can't back out now. You already agreed." "I got so motivated to go because I saw some hot guy in a magazine. A magazine, Brenda. That's insane." "And?" She was still typing. "I find that perfectly reasonable. Not every day someone finds their rebound within seconds of a breakup." "I'm not trying to rebound—" "To what? Sit here and overthink until you convince yourself Cole cheating was your fault?" She stopped typing. Turned to look at me. "Because I can already see it happening. You're doing that thing where you spiral." She was right. "What if I wasn't there enough?" The words spilled out. "What if the long distance was too hard—" "Okay, stop. Stop right there." Brenda stood up and leaned against my desk. "I'm gonna say this once. Stop being a little bitch crying over mediocre dick." My mouth snapped closed. "I'm serious, Olive. Cole Maddox is mediocre at hockey, mediocre in bed—yes, you told me, wine drunk, don't deny it—and apparently mediocre at being faithful. You spent two years standing in the rain at his practices. You drove three hours to watch him warm benches. And this is how he repays you? Fuck him." "I know, but—" "But nothing. You're going to Chicago. You promised Hunter months ago you'd be there for his first NHL game. That promise had nothing to do with Cole and everything to do with your brother who's always had your back." She was right about that too. Hunter had been asking me to come to games since he signed with the farm team. Back then, the idea of him making the NHL seemed like a sweet fantasy. Now it was real, and I'd promised to be there. "Okay, I get it." But I was smiling now, just a little. "Good. Now stop spiraling and—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes locking on something behind me. "Oh shit." I turned to follow her gaze. The TV. And right there, filling the entire screen, was Cole's face. My stomach dropped. He looked good. Of course he looked good. Blonde hair perfectly styled, gray eyes that looked almost silver under the camera lights. But that wasn't what made my breath catch. Because tucked under his arm, pressed against his side like she belonged there, was a woman. Stunning. Blonde hair cascading in perfect waves, red dress that hugged every curve. She was laughing. Head thrown back, hand resting on Cole's chest, fingers spread like she owned him. And that hair—it looked exactly like the hair I'd seen spilling down her back on that video call. "Cole Maddox was spotted last night with his alleged new girlfriend, Sophia Mercer, aboard a private cruise ship," the reporter's voice filled the office. White text appeared beneath her face. Sophia Mercer, 23 Mercer. "She's related to him," I whispered. Brenda's fingers were already flying across her keyboard. "Let me check—oh. Oh fuck. Olive." She turned her monitor toward me. Zane Mercer - Top NHL player for the Chicago Wolves. One sister: Sophia Mercer, 23. And there was a photo. Action shot. Zane on the ice, helmet off, hair dark with sweat, jaw clenched. Eyes shining with fury. He looked dangerous. Powerful. And I'd seen this photo before. The realization hit me hard. "Olive?" Brenda's voice sounded far away. Six months after Cole and I started dating. I'd been looking for a pen in his practice bag when I found a photo tucked inside his notepad. Folded. Hidden. This photo. "Who's this?" I'd asked. Cole had snatched it from my hands. His face had gone red, jaw tight. "Don't touch that." His voice had been sharp. "Don't ever go through my stuff, Olive." He'd softened after. Kissed my forehead, said he was stressed. But he never explained the photo. And I'd forgotten about it. Until now. "I've seen him before," I whispered. "What?" "Zane. This photo. Cole had it. Hidden in his practice bag. A year and a half ago. I found it by accident and he freaked out. Got all weird and defensive." Brenda's eyes had gone wide. "So Cole's been obsessed with Zane for your entire relationship?" My stomach turned. "Do you think he's with Sophia to get close to Zane?" "Oh my god. That makes sense." Brenda was already pulling up Sophia's Instagram. "Look at this." Photo after photo. Sophia at games, in VIP boxes, surrounded by players. And in several of them, standing slightly out of focus in the background— Zane. "Cole saw that. Used her to get access." "I was never enough because I wasn't connected to the right people." "Hey." Brenda grabbed my face. "Don't you dare. Cole is a social-climbing piece of shit who uses people. You were too good for him." My phone buzzed on the desk. An email. From…Cole. I didn't want to open it. But I did anyway. 'I'm sorry, Olive. I never meant for things to end this way. But I've reached a new level in my career, and I need someone who can match that. Someone capable of helping me grow. You were great for where I was, but I need more now. I hope you understand.' The phone slipped from my fingers. Someone capable. He'd just told me I wasn't capable enough. After two years. After everything. Brenda snatched my phone, her face shifting from concern to pure fury. "After you caught him cheating—he sends you a breakup email? Calling you incapable?" I couldn't breathe. "Wait. There's more." She was scrolling on her own phone now. "I've been looking into him since yesterday. Found his tagged photos on Instagram, the ones he tried to untag. Olive. Look." A photo. Cole. With a woman. Red hair. Not Sophia. Someone else. Beach house, arms wrapped around each other, mouths locked. The timestamp said nine months ago. "Nine months," I whispered. "There's another one. Two months ago. Different girl. Fuck, Olive, there are at least five different women in the past year." I stared at the screen. At the proof. At the pattern. "You're going to that game." Her eyes were fierce. "You're going to walk in looking absolutely devastating. Head held high." "I don't want revenge—" "This isn't about revenge. This is about you remembering who the fuck you are." She squeezed my arm. "You're Olive Monroe. You're smart, you're beautiful, you don't take shit from anyone when you're not being manipulated by mediocre men." I looked at that email again. Someone capable. Fuck him. "I'm going," I said. Brenda grinned. "That's my girl." "I'm going to support Hunter. My stepbrother has been nothing but good to me, and I promised him I'd be there." My voice got stronger. "And I'm going to look so fucking good that if Cole sees me, he chokes on his own bullshit." I took a breath. For the first time since that video call, it didn't feel like my chest was caving in. It felt like anger. I paused, looking back at Zane's photo on Brenda's computer. Those cold blue eyes. That dangerous energy. The man whose sister Cole was using. The man my stepfather hated. The man who'd somehow become tangled up in all of this without even knowing I existed. "And Zane?" I asked quietly. Brenda raised an eyebrow. "I think Zane is exactly who you should be thinking about." Chapter 3: OLIVE's POV Chapter 3: OLIVE's POV When I said I had a plan, I was lying through my teeth. I was a twenty-four-year-old woman standing in a luxury hotel lobby wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings, hair thrown up in a messy bun that had given up on life somewhere over Iowa, with absolutely zero strategy beyond 'don't think about Cole and survive this week without having a breakdown in public.' That was it. That was the plan. Three days had passed since that office meltdown. Three days of packing and repacking those suitcases Brenda had filled with "revenge outfits" I'd probably never wear. And one text from Cole that I'd deleted without reading. The flight had been six hours of my mother chattering about Hunter's big break and Grayson making business calls and me pretending to sleep. Now we were here. Chicago. The hotel. And holy hell, this hotel. Marble floors stretched out forever under chandeliers. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Chicago skyline. And everywhere—literally everywhere—there were people. Beautiful people in expensive clothes. Cameras flashing. Reporters shouting questions. Hockey players. I could tell by the way they moved. That casual confidence. The way everyone parted for them like they were royalty. "What do you think, Olive?" My mother was practically vibrating with excitement. "Mom." I cut her off. "I'm here for Hunter. That's it." "Diane, let her breathe." Grayson squeezed my shoulder. "Come on, let's check in." I followed them toward the reception desk, trying to keep my head down. But when I looked up to see where we were going, my parents had disappeared. Vanished. "Are you kidding me right now?" They'd done this before. My mother got distracted and wandered off, and suddenly I was alone trying to figure out where the hell they went. I pulled out my phone, scrolling for her contact. "Oh thank god, I've been looking everywhere for you!" Two hands grabbed my arm before I could react. I yelped, stumbling as someone pulled me away from the reception area. "Wait—I think you have the wrong—" "No time! The team's waiting and we're already fifteen minutes behind schedule." The woman dragging me was mid-forties, sharp-eyed, moving fast. "Why were you just standing there? Come on—" "Ma'am, seriously, there's been a mistake—" She swiped a keycard at a massive door and shoved me inside before I could protest. I stumbled into the room and stopped dead. This wasn't a hotel room. This was a photo shoot. Lighting rigs towered everywhere. A backdrop that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread. Cameras on tripods, equipment cases stacked against the wall. What the hell was this? "I know this is overwhelming. But this opportunity is huge. Your connection really pulled strings to get you here." My head snapped toward her. "My connection?" She smiled. "Your brother. Hunter Sinclair? He worked really hard to make this happen for you." My brain short-circuited. "Hunter did what?" "You're leading the ad shoot today. Mr. Mercer specifically requested the creative director be someone young, fresh perspective, and when Hunter mentioned you were coming to town—" "Wait, Mr. Mercer? As in—" A door on the far side of the room opened. Every thought in my head evaporated. A man stepped out. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Shirtless. My eyes went straight to his chest—eight perfect ridges of muscle, tanned skin that looked like it had been dipped in gold under the studio lights. This couldn't be real. My gaze traveled up. Sharp jawline. Dark hair, messy like he'd just run his hands through it. And then his eyes. Blue. Piercing. Cold. Locked directly on mine. Zane Mercer. Standing there in low-slung black pants, shirtless, looking like he'd walked straight out of that magazine photo except somehow better because he was real and he was right there. I was going to die in a luxury hotel room staring at abs that didn't look human. "Mr. Mercer, I'm so sorry for the delay." The woman stepped forward. "This is Olive Monroe, the creative director we discussed." "It's no issue, Sheila." His voice was deep. Smooth. "I'm ready whenever she is." His eyes never left mine. And I hated the way something flipped in my stomach. The way heat crawled up my neck. The way my thighs clenched together without permission. "Wonderful! Miss Monroe, you can take it from here. I'll be right outside if you need anything." I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Zane's lips twitched. Like he knew exactly what he was doing standing there half-naked making me forget how to form sentences. "You can leave, Sheila. I only need to be alone with my creative director." Sheila shot me a look—concern mixed with envy—before slipping out. The lock clicked. Just the two of us. Silence stretched. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, arms crossed loosely, waiting. I forced myself to breathe. To find my voice. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but I'm not a creative director." The words came out sharper than I meant them to. "That woman grabbed me in the lobby and dragged me here thinking I was someone else. So whatever this is, you've got the wrong person and I'm just—I'm going to go." He tilted his head, studying me. The way he looked at me—like he was peeling back layers, seeing things I didn't want seen—made my skin feel too tight. "Is that so?" His voice was low. Almost amused. "Yes. So if you'll excuse me—" I turned toward the door. "Do you really think this was a mistake, Olive?" My name in his mouth stopped me cold. I turned back slowly. "How do you know my name?" He pushed off whatever he'd been leaning against and took a step toward me. Just one. But the room shrank. "I know you're not a creative director. I know exactly who you are." Something squeezed tight in my chest. "Then why—" "And I know exactly why you're here." The air crackled between us. I wanted to move. To walk out. To put distance between us. But I couldn't. Because the way he was looking at me—like I was a puzzle he'd already solved—made it very clear. This wasn't an accident. "What do you mean?" My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I'm here to support my stepbrother. That's it." His lips curved. Barely. "Is that what you told yourself?" "It's the truth." "Then why did you agree to come after seeing my photo in that magazine?" My breath caught. How did he— "Your stepfather hates me. Has for years. Your mother knows the history. And yet you agreed to come to Chicago, to a game where you knew I'd be playing, right after a scandal." Another step. Closer. "So tell me, Olive. Why are you really here?" I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the pounding in my ears. "I don't know what you're talking about?" He chuckled, “Don't you know?" He was close enough now that I could see a faint scar above his eyebrow. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to keep eye contact. "Let me make this simple for you." He stopped right in front of me. Heat radiated off him. That expensive, clean scent that made my head swim. "I have a proposition. One that benefits us both. But first, I need to know something." "What?" His eyes locked on mine. "What are you willing to give me?" Chapter 4: OLIVE's POV Chapter 4: OLIVE's POV "What I'm willing to give you?" I stared at him like he'd just spoken a language I didn't understand. Because what kind of question was that? My eyebrows pulled together so tight my forehead hurt. "What does that even mean? I don't—I don't know you. And you're standing here asking me what I'm willing to give you?" I laughed. It came out bitter. Sarcastic. A little unhinged. But my cheeks were burning. Absolutely on fire. Because of how close he was standing, because I could see every detail of his chest…those abs, those arms, that scar above his eyebrow that made him look dangerous instead of perfect…and my body was betraying me in ways I didn't want to think about. When I forced myself to meet his eyes again, something in his expression made everything flip. "Cole Maddox." My blood turned to ice. Every muscle in my body went rigid. "What did you just say?" "Cole Maddox." Calm. Like he was commenting on the weather. "I know about him. About your relationship. That he's been cheating on you with my sister. That he used you for two years and then dumped you like you were nothing." The room tilted. How the hell did he know about Cole? About any of it? Was this some kind of sick game? Did Cole send him here? Was my stepbrother in on this? "And what are you? The cleanup crew? Here to…what, wipe off the stain Cole left behind? Make sure the poor pathetic ex-girlfriend doesn't embarrass herself?" His eyebrow raised. Amused. Like this was entertaining to him. "Did Cole send you?" I stepped forward now, couldn't help it, anger overriding self-preservation. "To make sure I stay away from his games? Is Hunter in on this too? Is this some sick joke where everyone gets to laugh at the girl who was stupid enough to believe her boyfriend loved her?" It wasn't a question. It was an accusation. And the way Zane's lips curved—like he was enjoying this, my confusion, my anger, the way I was falling apart right in front of him—made me want to slap him. Or kiss him. I wasn't sure which impulse was stronger and that scared me more than anything. "Cole Maddox is irrelevant to what's happening between us right now." His voice dropped lower. "But I do have a proposal." I blinked. "A proposal." "Yes." "From a complete stranger who somehow knows everything about my failed relationship and had me dragged into a room under false pretenses." His lips twitched. "When you say it like that, it sounds bad." "Because it is bad." "Hear me out." "Why should I?" But I didn't move. Didn't walk away. Because as much as I wanted to, as much as every logical part of my brain was screaming at me to run, I couldn't. I needed to know what he wanted. Why he knew about Cole. What the hell was happening. He took another step closer. My breath hitched. I wanted to step back. Wanted to put space between us. But my spine hit the wall behind me and I realized with a jolt that I'd been backing up this entire time without even noticing. Damn it. "Date me." The words hung in the air between us. I blinked. Once. Twice. "What?" "Be my partner. Publicly. We attend events together. Build your profile. Make Cole Maddox regret every single decision he's ever made in his pathetic life." My brain stuttered. Stopped. Tried to restart and failed. "You want me to..." I couldn't even finish the sentence. "Date you." "Yes." "Fake date you." "Does it matter if it's fake?" He tilted his head, and the movement made me notice how close he was. Too close. Not close enough. "The result is the same. Cole suffers. You move on looking like you upgraded. Everyone wins." I stared at him. He was serious. This man—this stranger who looked like he'd walked straight out of my most inappropriate fantasies—was standing here asking me to fake date him to make my ex jealous. Like this was normal. Like people did this every day. "Why?" My voice cracked. "Why would you want this? You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. So why the hell would you offer to—to—" "Because it benefits me too." That stopped me. The pieces trying to pull together in my confused, overwhelmed brain. "How?" His expression shifted. Something darker sliding across his face, something that made the hairs on my arms stand up. "Let's just say Cole Maddox and I have unfinished business. And having you by my side speeds up certain plans I have in motion." "Plans." I repeated the word like it might make sense if I said it out loud. "What kind of plans?" "The kind I'm not going to explain." "Of course not." I laughed, sharp and humorless. "So you want me to agree to fake date you—a complete stranger—for reasons you won't explain, to get revenge on an ex I'm trying to forget, while you use me for some mysterious plan involving Cole that you won't tell me about." "When you say it like that—" "It sounds insane. Because it is insane." He stepped closer again. And this time when I tried to step back, there was nowhere to go. The wall was right there. He was right there. Caging me in without actually touching me, and somehow that made it worse because I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Think about it, Olive." His voice was barely above a whisper now. Intimate. Like we were the only two people in the world. "You walk into every event on my arm. Photographers everywhere. Social media going crazy. And Cole sees all of it. Sees you moved on. Sees you with someone better. Someone he's been obsessing over for…what did I hear? For five years now." Something pounded in my chest. My eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "You know about his obsession with you?" "I know everything about Cole Maddox." His eyes locked on mine, and I couldn't look away even though I wanted to. "Including what he did to you." "Then you know I'm trying to move on. To forget him. Not play games." "This isn't a game." He leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. "This is power, Olive. You take control of the narrative. You show him and everyone else that you're not some girl he can discard. You're someone he never deserved in the first place." God, he was good. His words wrapped around me like a trap. Like he knew exactly what to say to make this sound appealing, to make me want to say yes even though every rational part of my brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea. And the worst part? It was working. I could picture it. Walking into that arena on Zane Mercer's arm. Flash bulbs going off. Cole's face when he saw me. The shock. The jealousy. The regret. It would feel so good. But— "What do you really get out of this?" I asked, forcing myself to focus past the heat and the proximity and the way his eyes were making me forget how to think. "Because I don't buy the 'unfinished business' excuse. There's something else. So what is it? What do you actually want from me?" His jaw tightened. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Thought he'd deflect or change the subject or do whatever powerful men did when they didn't want to give up control. Then he smiled. Slow. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made me think of wolves and prey and things that looked beautiful until they bit. Chapter 5: OLIVE's POV Chapter 5: OLIVE's POV "Maybe I just like the idea of watching Cole Maddox squirm." "That's not a real answer." "It's the only one you're getting." "Then I'm not interested." "Are you sure about that?" His hand came up—slowly, like he was giving me time to move, to protest, to tell him to stop—and his fingers brushed my jaw. And I stopped breathing. The touch was light. Barely there. But it sent electricity racing down my spine, pooling low in my stomach in a way that made me want to clench my thighs together. "Because from where I'm standing, you don't look uninterested." His thumb traced the line of my jaw with excruciating slowness. "I—" The words died in my throat. "Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing's shallow. And if I had to guess..." His thumb moved to my pulse point, pressing gently. "Your heart's racing." Damn him for being right. Damn my body for betraying me. Damn everything about this moment. "That doesn't mean anything." But my voice came out breathy and weak. "Doesn't it?" His thumb traced my bottom lip now, and I had to bite back a sound that would've been absolutely mortifying. "We could be good together, Olive. Professionally speaking. Put on a show that makes everyone believe it. Make Cole regret everything." "And what happens when it's over?" The words came out barely above a whisper. "When we're done playing pretend and you've gotten whatever it is you really want?" "Then we end it. Amicably. You get your revenge. I get what I need. Everyone wins." "Except Cole." "Especially Cole." His thumb pressed against my lip again, just slightly, and my lips parted on instinct. His eyes darkened. The air between us changed. Thickened. Heat crawling up my neck and pooling in places I was trying very hard not to think about. "How long?" I asked, because I needed to say something before I did something stupid like close the distance between us. "How long what?" "This fake relationship. If I agreed—which I'm not saying I am—how long would it last?" He considered, and I hated that I was watching his mouth while he thought. "Two months. Long enough to make an impact. Then we part ways. Clean break." "Two months of lying to everyone." "Two months of taking back control." His hand moved to cup my face fully now, and I should've pulled away but I didn't. "Think about it. Two months where you decide how this story goes. Not Cole. Not your family. You." God, why did he have to make it sound so tempting? "What would we have to do?" My voice was barely audible now. "During these two months?" "Public appearances. Games. Dinners. Charity events." He paused, and something heated flashed in his eyes. "Whatever couples do." "Fake couples." "Does it really matter?" His thumb traced my cheekbone now, and I was losing the battle with myself not to lean into it. "If it looks real, if it feels real, if everyone believes it's real—what's the difference?" "The difference is that it's not real." "Is that what you want? Reality?" He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. "Because reality is Cole cheating on you for maybe your entire relationship. Reality is him calling you incapable. Reality is you standing in the rain at his practices while he was with other women. Is that the reality you want to go back to?" Each word hit like a slap. Because he was right. Reality had been nothing but pain and lies and standing in the rain hoping someone would notice me. "We'd have to sell it. Make people believe it's real. That means touching. Holding hands." His thumb traced my jaw again. "Kissing." My knees went weak. "Kissing." "If the situation calls for it." His eyes were locked on my mouth now. "Can't have people thinking we're just friends." "This is insane." "Maybe." His hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling gently, and I forgot how to breathe. "But you haven't said no." Because I couldn't. God help me, I couldn't say no. I wanted this. Wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to show Cole that I could move on, that I was worth more than he'd ever appreciated. Wanted to be seen as something other than the girl who got cheated on. Even if it was fake. Even if it was a lie. Even if it would probably blow up in my face. His thumb pressed against my bottom lip again, and this time I couldn't stop the small sound that escaped. Something flashed in his eyes. "So what do you say, Olive?" His voice was rough now. Strained. "Are you going to let Cole Maddox win? Or are you going to show him exactly what he threw away?" I stared into those blue eyes. Felt his heat. His presence. The way he was looking at me like I was the only person who mattered in this moment. For one wild, reckless second, I almost said yes. Almost let myself fall into this trap of his making. But then reality crashed back in. This man knew everything about me. Had orchestrated this meeting. Was offering me something that sounded too good to be true. Because it was too good to be true. Men didn't do things out of kindness. Cole had taught me that lesson thoroughly. They wanted something. Always. There was always an angle. And I wasn't going to be used again. Not by Cole. And definitely not by Zane Mercer. I ducked under his arm, putting space between us so fast I almost tripped over my own feet. My chest was heaving. My body was screaming at me to go back, to let him touch me again, to say yes to whatever he was offering. But I didn't. "No." He turned slowly. Eyes locked on mine. Expression unreadable. "No?" "I'm not interested." My voice shook but I forced the words out anyway. "I don't need your help. I don't need revenge. And I definitely don't need some stranger playing savior because he has his own agenda he won't even explain." "Olive—" "Find someone else to play chess with." I grabbed the door handle, yanking it open. "I'm done being a piece on someone else's board." Sheila was right there when I stepped out, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh! Are you—did you finish already?" "I quit." And I walked out. Didn't look back. Couldn't look back. Because if I did, I'd see those blue eyes and that body and that dangerous smile. And I'd change my mind. Something pounded in my chest. My hands were shaking. My whole body felt like it was on fire. I made it to the elevator before I had to lean against the wall. "Hell," I whispered to the empty hallway. Because I'd just turned down Zane Mercer. The hottest man I'd ever seen in my life. Who'd offered me exactly what some dark, vengeful part of me wanted. And I'd walked away. The elevator dinged. I stepped inside, jabbing the button for the lobby. My phone buzzed. An unknown number. I stared at it for three long seconds before opening the message. 'Three days, Olive. That's how long my offer stands. After that, you're on your own. – Z' I read it twice. Then blocked the number. Shoved my phone back in my pocket. And tried to ignore the ache between my thighs that told me I'd just made either the smartest or stupidest decision of my life. Time would tell which one.