Consciousness returned like a sledgehammer to the skull.

My head wasn't just throbbing; it felt like my brain was being compressed by a vice, the pressure rhythmic and agonizing. I groaned, shielding my eyes before I even opened them, burying my face into the pillow that smelled faintly of... forest?

Nausea rolled through me, a violent wave that had me scrambling out of bed. My legs felt like jelly, but I stumbled into the adjoining bathroom, collapsing before the porcelain throne. I retched, my stomach cramping painfully, but nothing came up. Just dry, burning heaves that left my throat raw.

I slumped against the cold tile floor, gasping for air. What did I drink?

Slowly, the room stopped spinning. I dragged myself up to the sink, splashing freezing water onto my face. When I finally looked into the mirror, I expected to see a wreck; bloodshot eyes, pale skin, the usual aftermath of sickness.

Instead, the girl staring back at me looked... radiant.

My skin was flawless, glowing with a pearlescent sheen I'd never possessed. My lips were a deep, flushed rose, and my eyes, those strange blue-green eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire. There were no bags under them, no signs of exhaustion. It was unnatural. It was terrifying.

I looked down. I was still wearing yesterday's clothes; the white t-shirt, the leggings, the leather jacket. Why hadn't I changed?

Then I saw it.

A flash of gold caught the light. The emerald necklace lay against my collarbone, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic heat. But it wasn't the stone that made my blood run cold.

Just above the necklace, right where the curve of my neck met my shoulder, was a mark.

It wasn't a tattoo. It was a bruise, mottled purple and angry red, forming two distinct puncture wounds.

The bite.

The memories crashed into me with the force of a freight train. The forest. The lights. The confession. The wolf.

The wolf.

My breath hitched, turning into a strangled sob. I backed away from the mirror, my hands trembling violently. He bit me. He turned into a monster and he bit me.

"Luna..."

The voice came from the bedroom, low and rough.

Liam.

A primal spike of adrenaline shot through me. I lunged for the bathroom door, slamming it shut and twisting the lock just as the doorknob turned. I scrambled backward until my spine hit the tiled wall, curling into a ball.

"Luna, open the door."

His voice wasn't asking. It was a command, vibrating through the wood.

I clapped my hands over my mouth to stifle a scream, tears streaming down my face. Go away. Please, just go away.

"I can hear your heart beating, Luna," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "It's racing. You're scared."

"Go away!" I choked out.

"Open the door, or I will open it for you."

"No!"

CRACK.

The wood didn't just splinter; it exploded. The lock was ripped from the frame as the door flew open, bouncing off the wall with a deafening bang.

I shrieked, pressing myself harder into the corner.

Liam stood in the doorway. He looked like a storm cloud; dark, turbulent, and dangerous. But when his eyes landed on me, huddled on the floor, the anger drained out of him, replaced by a look of shattered devastation.

He took a step forward, hands raised in surrender. "Luna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Stay back!" I screamed, kicking out blindly. "Don't touch me! You monster!"

He froze. The word seemed to slap him across the face. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck cording. For a second, I thought I saw a flash of gold in his eyes, the wolf peeking through.

But he didn't roar. He didn't attack. He just looked at me with an expression of profound hurt, then turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the broken door hanging on its hinges.

I stayed there, shaking, staring at the empty doorway, waiting for the monster to return.

Minutes later, softer footsteps approached. Mum appeared, her face pale, eyes rimmed with red.

"Oh, my baby," she whispered, rushing to me.

I collapsed into her arms, the familiar scent of her laundry detergent finally grounding me. "Mum... Mum, he..."

"I know. Shh, I know." She stroked my hair, rocking me back and forth. "I'm so sorry, Luna. We never wanted you to find out like this."

I pulled back, looking at her frantically. "You... you're human, right? Tell me you're not one of them."

"I am human, sweetheart," she promised, wiping my tears. "I'm just like you."

"But Dad..." The realization hit me. Dad, who was so strong. Dad, who disappeared with Liam on 'camping trips'. "Dad too?"

Mum nodded solemnly. "Yes. Your father is like Liam."

"Does he... does he turn into a wolf?"

"Yes."

I felt sick again. My entire life was built on a foundation of secrets. "He's a monster too."

"Don't," Mum said, her voice sharpening. "Don't ever call them that. Not Liam, and not your father. They protect us, Luna. They love us."

"He bit me, Mum! He bit me!" I pointed to the mark, my hand shaking.

Mum's eyes went to the mark, and her expression hardened, not at me, but at something else.

"Get dressed," she said, helping me up. "I need to have a word with your brother."

She left, her footsteps heavy with purpose.

I changed into a loose grey t-shirt and shorts, moving like a robot. Downstairs, the sound of breaking glass shattered the silence, followed by Mum's voice raised in a shout I had never heard before.

Curiosity, or maybe stupidity drew me to the top of the stairs.

"I couldn't stop it!" Liam's voice hissed, sounding cornered.

"You. Have. No. Right," Mum yelled, punctuating every word. "She is my daughter! You hurt her!"

"He didn't mean to mark her, Sarah," Dad's voice was calm, trying to mediate.

"I don't care about his instincts! Look at her, Felix! She is terrified of him! You didn't even explain it properly. You just threw her into the deep end and expected her to swim!"

SLAM.

A table hit the floor. The house shook.

"She's listening," Liam murmured. His voice was barely a whisper, yet I heard it clearly from the top of the stairs.

I froze.

"Luna," he called out, not shouting, but projecting his voice straight to me. "We need to talk."

I considered running back to my room, but the broken door offered no safety. Taking a deep breath, I walked down the stairs.

Liam emerged from the dining room. He looked wrecked. His hair was a disaster, dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, and he held himself with a rigid tension, as if he were afraid he might shatter.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, keeping a respectful distance. "Can we... can we talk in your room? Please?"

I nodded stiffly and led the way back up. He followed, stepping over the debris of my door to close it as best he could.

He leaned against the broken wood, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted, human, and devastatingly handsome. It was unfair. How could he be a monster and look like that?

"Are Mum and Dad acting?" I asked, my voice small. "Do they only love me because I'm your... mate?"

"No," he said fiercely, pushing off the door. "God, no. They love you more than anything. You are their daughter, Luna. That has nothing to do with me or the wolf."

"Then what is a mate?" I asked, hugging my arms around myself. "Because to me, it sounds like you think you own me."

He flinched. "It's not ownership. It's... gravity." He rubbed the back of his neck, struggling for words. "Every wolf has a soulmate. A missing half. It's decided by Fate, by the Moon Goddess, before we're even born. It's biological, spiritual... absolute."

He took a step toward me, his eyes burning.

"And you are mine, Caroline."

My heart did a traitorous flip at the use of my full name.

"Liam... I'm your sister," I whispered, desperate to hold onto the one reality I understood. "This is sick."

"You still don't get it," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl that vibrated in my chest. He moved closer, entering my personal space, his heat radiating off him. "Why do you think I threatened every boy who looked at you? Why do you think I broke Joseph's nose when he tried to kiss you in the tenth grade? Why do you think I moved away?"

He stared down at me, his gaze consuming.

"I didn't move away for business, Luna. I moved away because I was waiting for you to turn eighteen. Because being near you and not being able to claim you was driving me insane."

I recoiled at his words, the possessiveness in his tone striking a nerve I didn't know I had.

"I am not an object you can own, Liam," I snapped, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

"You know that isn't what I meant," he said softly, stepping closer until his shadow fell over me. "You are mine, Luna, because I belong to you. Wholly. Irrevocably. For a werewolf, a mate isn't just a partner. It's a biological imperative. It's once in a lifetime."

His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My stomach churned-not with nausea this time, but with a swarm of nervous butterflies that I couldn't suppress.

"That is why I begged them," he confessed, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "At the orphanage. When I saw you... I knew. I asked Mum and Dad to bring you home."

I stared at him, horror warring with confusion. "You... you orchestrated my entire life?"

"I know it sounds twisted. I know you look at me and see a brother," he said, his eyes searching mine desperately. "But I have never seen a sister when I look at you, Luna. Never."

He reached out, his hand hovering for a second before cupping my cheek.

I braced myself to pull away, but the moment his skin touched mine, a jolt of static electricity snapped through me. It wasn't painful; it was narcotic. A warm, humming vibration that started at the point of contact and rushed straight to my core. My breath hitched.

I looked up at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, the image of 'brother' began to blur. The connection was undeniable, physical, and terrifyingly real.

Whoa, I thought, my knees feeling weak. Is it really that simple?

I sat down on the edge of the bed before my legs gave out.

"I have never begged for anything in my life," Liam said, sinking to his knees in front of me. He placed his large hands on my knees, the heat of his palms seeping through my jeans. That pleasant, addictive electricity sparked again. "I know this is a nightmare for you right now. I handled yesterday badly. I handled everything badly. But please, Luna... give me a chance."

The raw vulnerability in his voice squeezed my heart. This was Liam-the arrogant, confident Liam-kneeling at my feet.

"I don't know," I whispered honestly. "It's too fast. Yesterday I was a normal teenager. Today I'm adopted, wolves are real, and my brother is... this."

"So let's start over," he suggested, gently taking my left hand in his. He looked down at our joined fingers, fascinated.

"You feel it too?" I asked, noticing the way his thumb brushed over my knuckles.

Liam let out a breathy chuckle. "I feel everything. It's stronger now because of the mark."

I stiffened, pulling my hand back slightly. "The mark."

"You remember," he said, his voice cautious. "When I bit you."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the phantom pain of teeth sinking into my shoulder flashing through my mind.

"I would never hurt you intentionally," he swore, squeezing my hand to bring me back. "The mark is a claim. It's a warning to every other male werewolf that you are spoken for. That night... my wolf was out of control. He needed to ensure everyone knew you were his."

"Are there... others?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Other wolves?"

"A few. Mostly my friends. You know the circle."

I frowned. "Paul? Henry? Seraphina?"

He nodded.

"Jack?" I asked, the name slipping out. Jack had been my friend since kindergarten. The boy who put gum in my hair and watched horror movies with me.

"Jack is a wolf," Liam confirmed gently. "He's my Beta."

My world tilted a little further on its axis. Everyone I knew... everyone I trusted... they were all part of this secret world I had been blind to.

"I need to sleep," I blurted out. My brain felt full, like a sponge that couldn't absorb another drop of water.

"Okay." Liam stood up, towering over me again. He looked like he wanted to say more, to touch me again, but he held back. He offered me a tentative smile-the one that usually melted my annoyance, but now just made my chest ache. "Rest."

I waited until the door clicked shut before collapsing back onto my pillows.

Werewolf, I thought, staring at the ceiling. Mate. Mark. Jack.

Liam.

The exhaustion was a physical weight, dragging me down. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I woke up, the world would make sense again.

I didn't wake up naturally. I was dragged out of sleep by fire.

A searing, throbbing heat radiated from the base of my neck, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I gasped, my hand flying up to touch the source of the pain.

"Ow... ah!" I hissed. The skin felt raw, feverish.

Outside, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long, orange shadows across my room. I forced myself up, stumbling out of the room and down the stairs, my vision swimming.

"Mum?" My voice was a croak.

Mum appeared from the living room instantly, her face etched with worry. "Luna? What is it? You're pale."

"My neck," I groaned, clutching the banister. "It burns."

Mum reached me in two steps, pulling my hand away. She hissed a breath through her teeth when she saw the angry, red bruise. She leaned in, blowing cool air onto the inflamed skin.

"Thomas!" she shouted, her voice sharp.

Dad appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Call Liam," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. "She needs him. Now."

"What's happening?" Dad asked, looking at me with concern.

"Just call him!"

Dad scrambled for the landline. If I hadn't been in agony, I might have laughed at seeing my father so rattled.

"I swear to God, that boy has no self-control," Mum muttered furiously, guiding me to the sofa. "He should have waited. Marking you this early... he's acting like a feral dog."

I curled up on the sofa, tucking my knees to my chest. The burning sensation was spreading, crawling down my spine and up into my skull. It felt like my blood was boiling.

Mum returned with a glass of ice water. "Drink, sweetheart."

I took a sip, but it did nothing to cool the fire in my veins. "It hurts... God, it hurts."

Dad knelt beside me, stroking my hair. His touch was comforting, familiar, but it didn't stop the pain. Minutes stretched into hours. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on breathing, on not screaming.

BAM.

The front door didn't just open; it slammed against the wall with enough force to shake the pictures in the hallway.

I didn't need to look.

Heavy, rapid footsteps thundered toward the living room. Liam appeared, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with panic. He took in the scene-me curled in a ball of misery, Mum angry, Dad helpless-in a single glance.

"How long?" he demanded, dropping to his knees beside the sofa. Dad quickly moved out of the way.

"Too long," Mum snapped.

Liam didn't respond. He reached out, his large hands scooping me up. He pulled me into his lap, burying his face in the crook of my neck, right over the burning mark.

The relief was instantaneous.

It was like being doused in cool water. The fire in my veins vanished, replaced by that soothing, humming warmth. My muscles unlocked, and I slumped against him, inhaling the scent of pine and rain that clung to his skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against my skin, his arms tightening around me like iron bands. "I should have stayed. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered, my voice weak.

"It's the separation," he explained, rocking me slightly. "The mark creates a bond. Until your body adjusts to it, being away from me causes physical pain. The mark craves its maker."

I closed my eyes, letting the pain fade into memory, focusing only on the solid, undeniable reality of him holding me.

When I finally opened my eyes, the room was silent. Mum and Dad were watching us. Mum looked resigned, Dad looked uncomfortable. Mum caught my eye, cleared her throat, and nudged Dad toward the kitchen.

"Come on, Thomas. Let's give them a minute."

They left us alone in the darkening living room.

"So," I rasped, my cheek pressed against Liam's chest. "I'm stuck with you for a while, huh?"

"You're stuck with me forever, actually," he corrected, his voice rumbling through his chest and into mine. I could hear his heart hammering against his ribs-a frantic rhythm that matched my own.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching my face for signs of pain. "Have you eaten?"

I shook my head. "Not since yesterday."

"I'll cook," he said, but he didn't move to let me go.

Dinner was an exercise in torture.

Mum had cooked salmon and asparagus, filling the kitchen with savory aromas that should have made my mouth water. Instead, I pushed the food around my plate, acutely aware of the predator sitting next to me.

Liam ate with a focused intensity, but his knee brushed against mine under the table every few minutes. Each contact sent a fresh wave of that addictive, humming warmth through my leg, making it impossible to focus on Mum's endless chatter.

"So, Prom is coming up," Mum announced, her voice too bright. She looked between us, her eyes gleaming with matchmaking intent. "Luna, have you sorted out your plans?"

I choked on a spear of asparagus, coughing violently. Liam's hand was instantly on my back, rubbing soothing circles that felt like brands against my spine.

"Two weeks," I managed to rasp, reaching for my water.

"Has anyone asked you?" Mum pressed.

"Ehh..." I hesitated. Beside me, Liam went still. The hand on my back stopped moving. "There were a few offers. But I think I'll just go with Levi."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"Levi?" Liam's voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "You aren't going with him."

I stiffened, shooting him a glare while elbowing him sharply in the ribs. He didn't even flinch.

Mum, oblivious or willfully ignorant, cleared the table with Dad's help, shooing us out of the kitchen. "Go on, you two. Get out of my hair."

Liam didn't wait. He grabbed my hand and led me upstairs to his room.

It was strange seeing it now. Most of his furniture was gone, moved to his new apartment in the city. The room felt hollow, echoing with the ghosts of the boy he used to be. He walked straight to the window, sliding the sash up and stepping out onto the small balcony.

He leaned back in, extending a hand. "Coming?"

It was a challenge. A throwback. Since we were kids, the roof had been our sanctuary. Our fortress of solitude against parental lectures and bad grades. We hadn't been up there in years.

I hesitated only a second before taking his hand.

We scrambled up the trellis and onto the slanted roof, settling into the familiar groove between the gables. The view was spectacular. Being on the outskirts of the city, away from the light pollution, the sky was a canvas of velvet black scattered with diamonds. The Black Hill forest loomed in the distance, a dark, silent sentinel.

I lay back against the shingles, letting my hair fan out around me. Liam sat beside me, his long legs stretched out, hands behind his head.

A shiver raked through me as the wind picked up. Before I could wrap my arms around myself, Liam was moving. He stripped off his leather jacket, leaving him in just a black t-shirt that clung to his chest.

"Here," he said, draping the heavy weight over me.

"You'll freeze," I protested, though I instantly snuggled into the leather.

"I run hot," he dismissed.

I pulled the collar up, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him-concentrated. Peppermint, pine, and the musk of a wild animal. It was intoxicating.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice cutting through the wind.

"The pain," I asked quietly. "How long will it last? The separation anxiety?"

He turned to look at me. "Three days? A week? It depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On how stubborn you are. On how quickly you accept the bond."

I chewed on my lip. "Liam... will I turn? Because you bit me?"

He looked at me, his brow furrowing. "Turn?"

" into a wolf. Or a zombie. Or get rabies."

He stared at me for a beat, dead serious, before a laugh burst out of him. It was a rich, raspy sound that made my heart do a traitorous flip.

"I am not a dog, Luna," he chuckled, shaking his head. "And for the record, don't ever call us dogs in front of the others. Jack gets really sensitive about it."

I smiled, watching him. The moonlight softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look less like the Alpha and more like the boy I grew up with. But the tension underlying the moment was entirely new.

"What?" he whispered, his laughter fading. He was watching me watch him.

"Nothing," I breathed, looking back up at the stars. "Just... the view. It's beautiful. I forgot how much I missed this."

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "Nothing beats this view."

I turned my head. He wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking at me.

His gaze was heavy, heated, traveling over my face like he was memorizing it. The air between us crackled, charged with that strange biological magnetism he kept talking about.

He moved closer.

My breath hitched. I could see the golden flecks in his eyes, the dark fan of his lashes against his cheekbones. He smelled of night and danger.

"Luna," he whispered.

It was a warning. A question. A plea.

Then he closed the distance.

His lips crashed onto mine.

It wasn't a gentle, tentative first kiss. It was an explosion. A jolt of pure electricity surged from my lips straight to my toes, making my back arch off the roof. His hand tangled in my hair, the other cupping my jaw, holding me steady as he devoured me.

For eighteen years, he had been my brother. But in this moment, with his mouth moving against mine, hot and demanding, that reality shattered. He didn't kiss like a brother. He kissed like a man starving.

He pulled back just an inch, both of us gasping for air. His forehead rested against mine.

"Wow," he breathed, his voice wrecked.

He stared at me, his eyes wide and dark, pupils blown. He looked stunned, like he hadn't quite believed it would be like this. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips.

"I should have done that a long time ago," he growled.

"Yeah," I whispered, my brain short-circuiting.

"Wow," he said again, softer this time.

And then he kissed me again. Deeper. Using his tongue to taste me, claiming my mouth the way he had claimed my skin.

And God help me, I let him.

Light assaulted my eyelids.

I groaned, trying to burrow deeper into the warmth. My bed felt impossibly comfortable, like a cloud I never wanted to leave. I squeezed the bolster pillow next to me, sliding my hand up...

Wait.

My bolster was hard. And warm. And it had muscles.

My eyes snapped open.

"Morning, Luna."

The voice was a rumble of gravel and sleep. I looked up to find Liam watching me.

He was propped up against my headboard, shirtless, the sheet pooling at his waist. His hair was a chaotic mess, and his eyes were heavy-lidded.

I scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed. "Liam!"

"Easy," he chuckled, reaching out to steady me. His skin was scorching hot against my arm.

"What are you doing in my bed?" I demanded, clutching the duvet to my chest. "When did you... how did..."

"You fell asleep on the roof," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked effortlessly, annoyingly perfect. "I carried you in."

"So you just decided to stay?"

He shrugged, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "I told you. Separation anxiety. Besides..." He looked at the pillow I had been cuddling. "You didn't seem to mind a few minutes ago."