Naeva Quinn

Tuesday went by fast and upon realization, it was already tutoring time. I came prepared. Okay, maybe not emotionally. But I packed snacks—salty chips, chocolate-covered almonds, and those little yogurt drinks my mom still buys like I’m ten.

Plus a fat stack of worksheets, three pens, and the best weapon in my arsenal: zero patience. If I was going to be forced into tutoring five ego-fueled hockey players, they weren’t getting my fear. Just my math skills and maybe some sarcasm.

Room 201 was warm again, too warm. The same heater hummed in the corner. I walked in before the bell and dropped my bag loud on the desk.

Camden was already there, seated like he owned the building, legs stretched out, arms crossed. He didn’t even glance at me.

Theo entered next, nodded politely, and sat near the front. Jax came in bouncing a hockey puck like he’d never heard of rules. Cassian followed slowly, his cane tapping gently, eyes locked on me. River was last. Same hoodie. Same unreadable facial expression.

I passed out worksheets and dropped a bag of almonds in the center of the table.

“No one’s dying on my watch today,” I said. “Now open to page three. Algebra—solving for x.”

Camden didn’t move. Theo already had the answer before I finished talking. Jax popped an almond in his mouth and asked, “Wait, is this still algebra or chemistry?”

“It’s algebra,” I deadpanned.

“Right. That’s the one with the triangles?”

“That’s geometry.”

“Oh.” He winked. “I’m just here for moral support.”

Cassian chuckled under his breath. “You’re doing great.”

River hadn’t touched his book. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring. Not in a creepy way. What the hell are you? way. My skin prickled. I ignored him.

“Alright,” I said, walking to the board. “Let’s warm up. Solve this.”

I wrote out an equation and pointed the marker at Camden. “You. Go.”

He didn’t move.

“Problem too hard for the great Camden Wolfe?”

His eyes flicked up slowly. “You want me to solve it?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point of tutoring.”

He stood up, walked to the board and solved the equation faster than I expected. Flawless, but added a correction to my variable placement. Then he dropped the marker in the tray.

Theo smirked.

“Fine,” I said. “Show-off.”

Camden went back to his seat, silent again.

I kept the session moving, calling on each of them, switching between math and history review. But the tension never left. River hadn’t spoken once. Every time I looked at him, his eyes were already on me.

And then, just as I handed Theo a new worksheet, the lights flickered.

I paused. No one said anything. But all five guys reacted subtly but sharply.

River’s shoulders stiffened. Camden straightened. Theo stopped writing. Cassian tensed. Jax, for once, went still.

The air shifted. It got heavy and then dense. My ears rang for no reason.

“What just—”

A sharp pain hit my face. I touched my nose and I felt blood.

“Oh my God.” I stumbled back, hand over my nose.

Theo was already on his feet, pulling tissues from his bag. Camden stood frozen, eyes locked on mine.

“Is she...?” Jax whispered.

“She’s bleeding,” Theo said.

“No,” River said quietly. “She’s reacting.”

“To what?” I said, voice muffled under the tissue.

River didn’t answer.

Camden walked over and handed me a water bottle. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

I sat anyway. No one spoke after that. No more math. No jokes. Just silence.

When the bell rang, they packed up fast. River was the first out the door. Camden last.

As I walked outside, the cold hit me as usual. The snow felt real. Unlike whatever that moment had been.

I sat on the low concrete wall outside the gym building, the tissue still clutched in my hand. My nose had stopped bleeding, but my head was buzzing.

That wasn’t normal. A random nosebleed? Maybe. But the way they all froze? How they reacted like I’d triggered some kind of warning system?

My breath formed clouds in the air. I pulled my jacket tighter. Then I heard them.

The boys. Talking around the corner near the locker hallway.

I crept closer carefully.

“She bled,” River said. “Right there. Out of nowhere.”

“It wasn’t normal blood,” Theo replied. “It was charged. I felt it.”

“Blood calls,” Cassian murmured. “It’s what happens when a wolf is close to something bonded.”

“She’s not bonded,” Camden said. “She’s not even—” He stopped. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“She felt it too,” River added. “I saw it in her face. She knows something’s wrong.”

Footsteps shifted.

“She’s going to ask questions,” Theo said.

“She already is,” Cassian added.

“We should tell her,” Jax said quietly.

“No,” Camden snapped. “She’s not part of this.”

The hallway fell silent.

I stepped back, heart hammering so loud. My foot hit a pile of ice, and it crunched.

“Naeva?” Camden’s voice cut through the air.

I turned, face flushed. He stepped out from the shadows, the others were just behind him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I dropped something,” I lied.

“You heard us,” River said.

“No.”

“Don’t lie,” Camden said. His eyes locked with mine. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. Stay away from us, Naeva.”

He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. His tone sliced straight through me. The boys turned and walked off like nothing had happened.

I stood there, breathing fast in the frozen air, the tissue still crumpled in my fist.

They were hiding something. And now I was part of it. Whether I liked it or not.

I walked home with my fists buried deep in my coat pockets, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. I was done. Done with Snowridge.

Done with the silent stares and cryptic comments. Done with Camden’s cold attitude and River’s haunting eyes. My nose still throbbed, and my mind was on repeat, playing back every word they said—blood calls, bonded, she’s not part of this.

Screw that. As I turned the corner onto my street, I froze. A massive wolf stood in my front yard.

Not a dog. Not some scruffy stray. A full-grown, thick-coated wolf, silver eyes glowing under the porch light. Its fur shimmered, too clean for something wild. Its head turned sharply—toward me.

My breath caught. We stared at each other.

The wind blew. The snow crunched beneath its paws. And then, just as I took a step forward, it blinked once and vanished.

It was just gone without pawprints or sound. The porch light flickered.

My dad opened the door, calling, “Naeva?” he called out. “Are you coming in or planning to freeze out there?”

I looked again. There was nothing. Just an empty yard and the weight of something watching me. Something real. And not human.

Naeva Quinn

I wasn’t going crazy. At least, I didn’t think so.

But I also didn’t think wolves just showed up in people’s yards for fun and then vanished without a trace.

That morning, I skipped breakfast and grabbed my laptop. I searched: Snowridge wolf sightings. Not much came up. A few grainy pictures from years ago. One article from the late '90s said, “Wolf population near extinction in Snowridge area.”

Another article said they were “pushed out by noise, construction, and human expansion.” But that made no sense. The town was still surrounded by dense forest. And if wolves were really gone, why did I see one last night? Why did it look straight at me like it knew me?

At school, I visited the small library tucked behind the auditorium. Dusty, cramped, but quiet. I flipped through an old book on local wildlife. One page stood out:

> “Wolves were once deeply tied to Snowridge, often seen near the lakes during winter. Disappeared around 1974. Some believe they were hunted. Others claim they never left.”

There were old newspaper clippings taped to the back of the book. A headline read:

“Strange Sounds Echo Through Woods: Locals Blame Ghost Wolves.”

Okay, definitely not helpful.

But I took notes anyway. Something in me felt pulled to this. My blood felt warm in my veins in a way it never had back in Vancouver. My senses were sharper. I could hear distant footsteps in the hallway, smell someone’s peppermint gum from across the room, and sometimes, I swore I heard howling late at night. But when I’d check, nothing.

Something was happening to me. And it started the second I got to Snowridge.

I was still thinking about it when I walked into Room 201 for tutoring. The energy hit me the moment I stepped in. Heavy. Like walking into a room right after a fight.

Camden was seated near the window, chewing his pen cap like he wanted to break it. Theo looked up and nodded. Cassian gave me a small smile. Jax greeted me with a wink and a, “Hey, killer,” like he hadn’t been in the same awkward conversation I overheard yesterday.

Then, there was River. He was already staring.

I sat down slowly. The folder in my hand felt so heavy. I pulled out their assignments and passed them around.

“Today’s just a quick review,” I said, trying to sound normal. “Nothing too much.”

They started working, some of them more focused than others. Theo breezed through his worksheet like always. Cassian struggled with one question and asked me to help.

Jax doodled in the margins of his page. Camden didn’t speak at all.

Then River spoke.

“You smell different today.”

Everything stopped. Theo looked up in surprise.

Jax blinked. Camden snapped his pencil in half.

I blinked back at River. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t flinch. “You just… do.”

Camden stood up. “Enough.”

River looked at the table. “Sorry,” he muttered, not sounding sorry at all.

My chest tightened. “What is wrong with you guys?” I asked. “You act like I walked into your territory or something.”

No one answered. Camden grabbed his bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

“Smooth,” Jax said to River, shaking his head.

River didn’t say another word.

By the end of the session, my hands were cold. Not from the temperature. From the tension.

I needed answers. After the last period, I walked around the back of the school, heading toward the gym. The snow crunched under my boots. The sun was already dipping low, painting the ice with streaks of orange.

Then I saw River. He stood by the fence, shirtless. In the snow. Steam rose off his skin.

I stepped closer, confused.

“River?”

He didn’t turn. Suddenly, his body shifted—spine stretching, arms twisting. His back hunched. Bones cracked. Fur sprouted along his arms. His face lengthened, mouth opening in a soundless growl. His eyes—those same silver eyes shone through the half-transformed shape.

I couldn’t breathe. My feet locked in place.

He looked at me, part-wolf, part-boy. And then in a blink, he was gone.

Vanished. No snow disturbed. No trace left behind. I stumbled back with a pounding heart beat.

This was real. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a story. Something supernatural was happening here. And I had just seen it with my own eyes.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt it again. River’s body shifting, the silver eyes, the bones cracking like twigs. It wasn’t a hallucination. I knew what I saw.

But when I finally drifted off, my mind didn’t rest. I was standing on a frozen lake. Snow stretched for miles. The sky was dark but full of stars, more than I’d ever seen. My breath fogged in the air. I was barefoot. The ice didn’t hurt—it felt natural and familiar.

Then I heard bowling.

Five wolves stood at the edge of the lake, their bodies tense, glowing faintly under the moonlight. They didn’t move, just circled slowly, steady too. Watching me.

My heart pounded really fast. I tried to speak, but no words came. I looked down.

My reflection stared back from the smooth, frozen surface but it wasn’t my face. Not fully. My eyes were glowing. Gold. Burning bright like fire trapped behind glass.

I stumbled back. The wolves moved closer, forming a tight circle around me. One black. One gray. One golden-brown. One pure white. The last was silver-eyed.

I could recognise that it was River.

They didn’t snarl or growl. They bowed. All five of them.

And somehow... I bowed back.

I jolted awake, sat up, chest heaving, sweat chilling my skin despite the cold night air. My room was dark, quiet, and safe.

Yet every nerve buzzed like I was still on that lake. I pressed a hand to my racing heart, trying to slow it down. Five wolves, golden eyes, a silent pledge—none of it should be real.

I rubbed my temples, but the picture refused to fade. Something inside me answered their call, a low hum behind my ribs. I didn’t know the rules or the reason, but I knew one thing: those wolf voices were bound to me, forever, maybe.

Naeva Quinn

A few weeks later…

It was my first hockey game, and honestly, I hadn’t expected to care. But Theo had casually mentioned it during tutoring, tossing out a, “You should come watch us tonight,” like it wasn’t a big deal. I’d shrugged, said maybe, and then spent an hour staring at my closet like I was dressing for a date. Which was dumb. It wasn’t a date.

Still, there I was—shivering on the metal bleachers of Snowridge Ice Arena, watching the Wolves storm the rink like they were born on skates. And technically, I guess they kind of were.

The Snowridge Wolves. Yeah, that’s really their team name. Subtle, right?

The crowd screamed around me, the sound echoing off the walls and ice. People waved signs and stomped their boots. I tried not to flinch when the puck slammed against the glass in front of me.

Ironvale High had already racked up three penalties, and we weren’t even through the first period. These guys didn’t play nice.

The Wolves, though? They played like a pack.

Camden moved with perfect control, fast, precise. Theo darted across the rink like it was all instinct. Jax played for the crowd, flashy and unpredictable. Kai hung back, skating with less speed but just as much purpose. And River—damn. River was a wall. He knocked Ironvale players down like it was personal.

Every time one of them touched the puck, I felt it. Like a thread tugging behind my ribs.

When Camden scored halfway through the second period, the whole arena went insane. People jumped up, chanting his name. But I didn’t cheer. I couldn’t. Because right as he raised his arms in victory, the air around me changed.

Something sparked.

My skin tingled. I gasped. My chest felt tight, like I’d been shocked by invisible wires.

No one else reacted.

I looked around. Everyone was clapping and screaming. It was just me, my body reacting like it had short-circuited.

And then came the hit.

An Ironvale forward, way taller than Camden, slammed him into the boards. The sound was loud. Brutal. The glass shook. Camden dropped to his knees.

I stood up, heart lurching.

He pushed himself up slowly, there was blood on his bottom lip.

Then he growled.

Not like a grunt. Not like pain. No, this was low, sharp, primal. It didn’t sound like it should come from a human throat.

Some people around me laughed. “That’s our Camden!” someone shouted. Another yelled, “Wolves bite back!”

But I was frozen. Because as he skated away, I saw it.

The ice beneath his feet cracked. Just for a second. Thin, spidering lines before it smoothed over like it had never happened.

I sat down slowly. My hot chocolate spilled onto the bench but I didn’t notice.

The rest of the game blurred after that. River blocked a goal with his body. Jax flipped a puck through someone’s legs. Theo moved like he knew where the puck would go before it did. It was almost... choreographed. Not natural. Not just skill.

The Wolves won. Barely. The final score flashed 4–3.

The crowd rushed out into the cold night air, buzzing and loud. I lingered, the inside of my brain still playing catch-up. My legs carried me toward the back hallway by instinct. The area near the locker rooms wasn’t marked, but I found it anyway.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Until I saw Kai. He leaned against the brick wall just outside the locker room door, one leg bent, the other stretched out. His jersey was off, slung over one shoulder, and he had an ice pack on his thigh.

He looked up and smiled when he saw me.

“You came.”

“Theo invited me,” I said, stopping a few feet away. “Didn’t know it would be... intense.”

He chuckled. “Ironvale doesn’t hold back.”

“I noticed.”

I glanced down at his leg. “You okay?”

“Old injury,” he said. “Gets angry when I push it too hard.”

I hesitated, then leaned against the wall beside him. Not too close. Just... enough.

“Camden growled,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“Like an animal.”

“Yeah.”

I stared at him. “That’s it? No denial? No ‘you must’ve imagined it’?”

He shrugged. “Would you believe that?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

I folded my arms. “I saw the ice crack. No one else did.”

“I know.”

That caught me off guard. “You do?”

Kai turned, looking at me seriously. “You see things other people can’t. You feel things. Right?”

I nodded slowly.

“You’re not imagining any of this, Naeva. The energy, the sparks, the pull. It’s real.”

My mouth felt dry. “Why me?”

“I don’t know. But I was the first to sense it.”

“Sense what?”

“You.”

Kai set the ice pack down, then reached out and gently took my hand.

His hand was warm. Solid. He brought it to his chest, pressing my palm just over his heart.

“Feel that?” he asked.

His heartbeat pounded steady against my skin.

“That’s what it’s like when you’re near.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I’ve never felt that with anyone else,” he whispered. “But with you? It’s like something inside me woke up.”

My lips parted. “What are you?”

He held my gaze. “We’re not just high school hockey players, Naeva. We’re not just boys with attitude problems and perfect teeth.”

He smiled faintly at that.

“You’re not just human. And neither are we.”

I pulled my hand back slowly, blinking hard. “You’re serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

The hallway light buzzed above us. The door to the locker room cracked open, and I heard Camden’s voice inside. He was yelling at someone—River, maybe.

I looked back at Kai. “Is this why you guys are so weird around me?”

“We’re not weird.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed quietly. “Okay, we’re a little weird. But yeah. You showing up changed everything.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Doesn’t matter. Fate doesn’t wait for permission.”

My head spun.

“Why me?” I asked again, softer.

Kai’s face turned serious again. “We don’t know yet. But we’re going to find out.”

He took a breath like he wanted to say more. But the locker room door slammed open, and Camden stormed out, shirtless, eyes flashing.

He stopped cold when he saw us. Me. Kai. My hand was still hovering awkwardly midair.

Camden’s jaw tensed. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Kai straightened but didn’t move.

“She deserves to know,” he said.

“Not yet.” Camden’s voice was low. Cold. “You’re rushing it.”

“She already knows something’s off.”

Camden’s eyes locked with mine. “You want answers? Fine. But don’t come crying when you realize what you’ve walked into.”

Then he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

I looked at Kai.

He gave me a half-smile. “That’s his way of saying he’s scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of what you mean to us.”

I swallowed hard. “This is getting real, real fast.”

Kai leaned back again, like nothing had changed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Then he stepped closer. I could feel the heat from his body.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Kai whispered.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The air between us had changed, again. It wasn’t just tension now. It was gravity. A very strong pull. It felt tightening. Daring me to lean in.

And I did. Or maybe he did first—I couldn’t tell.

His lips brushed mine. It felt soft against my lips but then, something snapped.

My vision blurred like heatwaves rolling through winter air. My knees buckled. The hallway tilted. I gasped as everything spun, my heart was beating too fast, too loud. The cold hit me hard, through skin, through bone. I felt the world shift beneath my feet.

Then darkness enveloped me.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the hallway anymore.

I was lying flat on ice. Real ice. My breath came in sharp clouds as I sat up, confused, barefoot and freezing.

I was glowing too.

Faint blue light traced through my veins like fire. I stared at my wrist. I saw two bite marks, red and raised, pulsing like they were alive.

What the hell was happening to me? Growls echoed from the trees nearby.

I wasn’t alone. And this time... I wasn’t sure I was still human.