SKY

I somehow make it through two whole days without any trouble from Lamen and his friends. It feels like a miracle, but I know it won't last. This morning's Silver Moon Pack meeting is bound to change that.

When I step into the large hall where the pack gathers, I keep my head low and slip into a seat at the back. My shoulders hunch forward as if hiding will make me invisible. Wolves fill the room quickly-chairs scraping, low voices rumbling, the familiar scent of fur and pine mixing in the air.

At the front, my father, Lucien Silver, stands tall behind the podium, his presence commanding as always. Around him, the Silver Moon elders sit in a half-circle, their serious faces giving away nothing. I twist my fingers nervously in my lap, my stomach in knots as I wait for Lamen and his crew to appear.

A few pack members I barely know take seats beside me. They're polite but distant, and I don't try to talk. The Silver Moon wolves are calm and respectable-good, loyal people, but to me, they've always felt dull. Maybe that's why I dream of leaving for New York. There, I can start over. No whispers, no stares. Just freedom.

Even here, surrounded by my own pack, I feel like an outsider. Their glances tell me I don't belong, like I'm a rogue among my own kind. If I study hard enough, maybe Father will let me handle the business side of things, far from pack politics and cruel eyes.

The door slams open. Lamen strides in, followed by his friends-loud, arrogant, and dangerous. My whole body stiffens. As they pass, Aria, his loyal sidekick, leans close to my ear. "Hey, bitch," she whispers, tugging my ponytail hard before flicking it back over my shoulder. I roll my eyes, trying not to give her the satisfaction of seeing me react.

Then it happens, our eyes meet. Lamen's dark gaze locks on mine, and something hot sparks inside me. My chest tightens, and a strange, unwanted heat spreads through my body. His smirk deepens as if he knows exactly what I'm feeling. His messy black hair falls over his face, shadowing his sharp eyes, and I can't look away.

He snickers. "Morning, Sky. Birthday girl, huh? Got a surprise for you." His voice drips with mockery as he moves past me, his friends laughing under their breath.

What does he mean by that? My stomach twists with both fear and something else, something I don't want to name. I hate how aware I am of him. His broad shoulders, the way his muscles move under his shirt-it all makes me dizzy. Aria glances back and catches me staring. Her glare is sharp enough to cut, and I quickly face forward, cheeks burning.

This day is already off to a terrible start. And it's only getting worse. My birthday. Once, it used to mean something good. I can still hear my mother's sweet voice in my mind: "Happy birthday, Sky! You're five now, such a big girl!"

Back then, Lucien used to smile more. Our house used to feel alive. But ever since she died, everything changed. He's become distant, like a stranger living under the same roof.

His deep voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. "Take your seats, Silver Moon Pack. This meeting will be brief. We have several matters to address."

I sink lower in my chair, hoping he doesn't mention me, but of course, he does. "As most of you know, it's Sky's eighteenth birthday this Sunday. As per tradition, we'll be holding a shifter celebration in her honor. Everyone is expected to attend. The festivities begin at four in the afternoon."

A few members from the social committee-Clare and Susan, look my way with blank expressions. My heart sinks. They don't care. No one ever does. Now my father's just made me a bigger target.

Lamen starts clapping slowly, his grin wide and mocking. "Whoo hoo! Big shifter party for Sky!" he calls out. Aria joins in, laughing too loudly, and the rest of his crew follows, their snickers echoing across the hall.

My father chuckles, completely oblivious to the cruelty behind their laughter. "That's the spirit of the Silver Moon Pack!" he says proudly, smiling like everything is fine.

But it's not. Not for me.

The meeting goes on, something about property investments-but his words blur into background noise. My chest feels tight. My breathing comes shallow. And that strange pull toward Lamen won't fade. I can feel him even without looking, like a magnetic force humming under my skin.

Maybe it's because my first shift is near. Maybe this strange attraction happens to every wolf before they change for the first time. I don't know. All I know is I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.

I grab my bag and slip out quietly, heading straight for school. My thoughts spin with dread. Two days until the party. Two days until my birthday.

And somehow, I already know, something about it won't end well.

SKY

I take one last look in the mirror, studying the messy bun I learned to do from a video online. It isn't perfect, but it will have to do for tonight. My fingers smooth the soft fabric of my midnight-blue dress - the one I bought with months of tips and savings from Jersey Store, the small café where I've worked for years. Every coin I've saved went into this dress, though if I could trade it for a real friend in the pack, I would in a heartbeat.

My green eyes shimmer under the faint light, that same emerald glow that never seems to dull, even when I'm hurting inside. A little makeup makes my pale skin glow, and I swipe a clear gloss over my lips before stepping out into the night air. My heels click softly as I cross the courtyard toward the Silver Moon Pack hall, my pulse quickening with each step.

The hall is draped with silver and blue streamers that shimmer under the light. Wolves of all ranks fill the room, laughing, talking, waiting. My heart races as I step inside. Nobody turns to look at me. That's fine. I prefer it that way. I lift my dress slightly to avoid tripping and quietly take in my surroundings.

Tonight is the night of my first shift. Midnight will mark my change, the moment when I'll finally become one of them - a full wolf. But the stories I've heard make my stomach twist.

"I thought my bones were going to break."

"My wolf was so big, I didn't even recognize myself."

"I couldn't stop craving meat afterward."

Their words replay in my head. I've never seen a shift before, only heard the sounds. The cracking. The screaming. I grip the edge of the table, my mind fogging. Where's Lamen? Why do I keep thinking about him? His name echoes in my head again and again until I can barely breathe. My chest tightens. The air feels heavy. My skin burns, and the heat spreads until I feel like I'm on fire.

"Happy birthday, Sky. Good luck with your first shift. Would you like some punch?"

Susan's voice startles me. She smiles politely, but her eyes are dull and lifeless. I manage a small nod, clutching my throat.

"Does it have alcohol in it?" I ask, my voice trembling higher than I intend.

"Oh yes," she says, almost amused. "You're going to need it. The change is already starting."

Sweat drips down my temple. The room suddenly feels smaller. Then I feel it - that familiar, powerful presence. My heart stutters. Lamen. He's here.

I turn just as he walks in, dressed entirely in black. The sight of him steals the air from my lungs. His movements are strong and sure, every step filled with confidence.

That same dark energy rolls off him, pulling me in like a magnet. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, heat pooling low in my stomach. I silently beg the Moon God to stop this from happening. Please, don't let Lamen be my true mate. Anyone but him.

But it's too late. Every breath he takes matches mine. I can feel his heartbeat syncing with my own. Faster. Harder. Closer.

He stops just inches from me, his breath brushing against my face. My cheeks burn. I probably look a mess. Without a word, he pulls a tissue from his pocket and gently wipes the sweat from my forehead. The gesture makes my stomach twist in confusion. The room fades away - it's just him and me.

Susan hands me the punch, but my focus stays locked on him. I take a shaky sip, hoping he'll walk away. He doesn't.

"Don't run from me," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "It's you. You're my mate. I can feel it. I can smell it from my house."

My breath catches. "Wha-what are you talking about?" I whisper, clinging to denial.

"You know what I'm talking about," he says softly. "I won't hurt you anymore. Not now that I know you're mine. We should talk somewhere private."

The alcohol burns down my throat, giving me false courage. "Forget it, Lamen," I manage to say. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

For a moment, his face softens, the cold edge fading. "I don't hate you," he says, his tone raw. "I've always wanted you. Liked you."

He reaches for my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine. My body betrays me, trembling under his touch. I notice the curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You have a funny way of showing it," I whisper.

"Let's talk," he insists. "You look beautiful, Sky. I want to make things right. For everything I've done."

There's pain in his voice, maybe even regret. I want to believe him, but my heart is racing too fast to think clearly. My body feels drawn to him - a magnetic pull I can't explain. Then, before I can stop myself, his lips find mine.

The world falls away. His mouth is warm, hungry. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands tracing my waist. The kiss deepens, stealing the air from my lungs. I lose myself in it, until reality crashes back in.

I pull away, dazed. The room spins. "Wait-you have a girlfriend. Aria. What about her?"

He shakes his head, eyes locked on mine. "Don't worry about her. You're my true mate, Sky. I'm sorry for everything." He kisses my hands tenderly. My mind screams no, but my body aches yes.

Then the microphone crackles. My father, Lucien Silver, stands on the stage with a glass in his hand, smiling at the crowd.

"Well, it looks like we have ourselves a mate bond," he announces. "Lamen, am I right?"

Lamen gives a slow nod, still holding my hand. My voice catches in my throat. I can't speak.

The room erupts in whispers. Aria stands near the front, her cream dress glowing under the lights, her expression twisted with rage. My stomach sinks. I'm trapped in a nightmare I can't wake from.

Lucien lifts his glass. "Then it's settled. With the sealing of a kiss, we have a new mate pair. A mating ceremony will be arranged at once!"

The crowd murmurs, some disapproving, others stunned. My head spins. My heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe.

This night was supposed to mark my first shift - a moment of pride. Instead, it's turned into chaos. And I have no idea how to escape it.

DAMIEN

Crack! I drop low, using the strength in my back leg to drive my punch harder into my brother Rylan Rock's ribs. "You don't own the west side. I do!" I shout, my voice rough with anger. There's no backing down now, not with him. If I let up for even a second, he'll hit me from behind. That's what Rylan does. He's sneaky like that.

I push my hair out of my face, squinting through the parking lot lights as I size him up. He's furious, too mad to fight smart. I move lightly on my feet, staying in my stance, spitting out the blood that's collecting in my mouth. My crew stands close by, watching, waiting.

"Damien, don't hold back!" Kellan calls out, his teeth flashing in a wild grin. "You know his weak side. Light him up!" Kellan's part of the rebellion, the small group I've been leading. It's a rough crew, but they've got my back.

"Shut up, Kellan," Rylan snaps, blood dripping from his mouth. He looks so much like me-same sharp jaw, same dark eyes, but taller by an inch. He's built like a tank at six-three, all muscle and rage. I'm six-two, not far off, but I've got speed. He's all strength, I'm all fire.

I swing again, catching him across the face. The crack of bone echoes through the lot, drawing gasps from the small crowd gathering around. This is nothing new. Everyone knows Rylan and I fight every week, it's practically a show for the pack.

"Stay down," I warn, but he grins, wiping the blood off his chin. Then, in a split second, he dips low, scoops up a handful of gravel, and flings it in my face.

"Ah, hell!" I curse, spitting out the gritty pebbles that sting my mouth and eyes. The bastard got me good. My knee buckles as he kicks me hard, and I drop for a second, one hand hitting the ground to keep my balance. The pain burns through me, but I don't let it hold me.

"Get up, Damien! He's coming for you!" Nova shouts. She's the only girl in my crew, a tomboy wolf with a sharp tongue and a mean right hook. Her voice cuts through the chaos like a spark.

I grin through the blood. "You're not the only one with tricks, brother." I grab Rylan's legs and yank, pulling him to the ground. The thud of his body hitting the gravel is loud, satisfying. I hope I cracked a rib or two. He groans, and I give him a solid kick in the side to make sure he stays down.

That's when I feel it, the heavy presence that freezes the air. My father.

Gareth Rock.

The crowd that had gathered around us shifts uneasily. Some step back. My father's presence has that effect on everyone. He's ruthless, cold, and stronger than anyone in this damn pack.

"Break this up!" Gareth's voice booms, low and dangerous. "Damien, get off your brother."

Of course, it's me he blames. It's always me. Never Rylan. I stand slowly, brushing the dust from my jeans, my chest heaving.

"He started it-"

"Shut it, Damien." His tone slices through the air. "You're supposed to be the heir to the throne, not a street brawler. I need you down in Upper Manhattan for the collection run. Wheelie Pop owes us, and I want that money today. Get it however you need to. Save your fists for that."

I clench my jaw, swallowing the bitter taste of gravel and blood. My father's eyes are cold, the color of storm clouds, his face marked with scars from battles I've only heard whispers about. There's one deep line under his left eye, a scar that cuts across his cheek like a warning. He's covered in tattoos, each one rumored to represent a kill. I've never asked. I don't want to know.

Rylan stands behind him, smirking, rubbing his jaw. I want to hit him again, but I don't. Not with Gareth watching.

"Yes, sir," I mutter, though my voice shakes with frustration.

My father's lips curl into a small, cruel smile before he turns and walks away, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. The crowd starts to disperse, and I can feel my crew's eyes on me. Kellan gives me a nod, Nova shakes her head, and I just stand there, fists tight, heart pounding.

That's the thing about being a Rock, violence isn't just in the blood. It's the only language we've ever learned.