All of a sudden, I was being chased by something. Something I wasn't quite sure of. Could this be a nightmare?
I didn't know what I had done wrong, but somehow I was running for my life from three bloodthirsty wolves. I hadn't done anything. I was sure of it.
Suddenly, my right foot struck a stone, and I crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Just as the wolves were about to tear into me, I jolted awake to the sound of a voice close to my ear. Even though my eyes were still shut, I already knew who it was. Renee Malivert—my closest friend, the closest thing I had to a best friend.
Renee was beautiful. Brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a flawless smile. Sometimes I envied her.
"Why are you up?" I asked, ignoring her as I cracked one eye open.
"It's morning. Why else would I be up?" she replied sarcastically, pursing her lips.
I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself into a slouched sitting position. "My apologies. But what are you doing in here anyway? You know Kol will be furious if he finds you here."
I motioned for her to get off my bed, but she simply stayed at the foot of it, watching me with a judgmental look.
"I don't care. I could take the Alpha. Show him a good one-two." She threw a few playful punches into the air.
A small smile tugged at my lips. "Yeah, well, you can give him that one-two in the living room. Now go. Before he catches you."
She frowned as I stood and gently shoved her out of the room before closing the door behind her.
Resting my forehead against the cool wood, I let out a quiet sigh.
"Happy eighteenth birthday, Katerina," I murmured to myself.
Turning toward the clock, I saw the time: 7:38 a.m.
Eight minutes past when I should have woken up.
No wonder Renee came in to check on me.
I sighed again, thinking briefly about the nightmare I'd just had before turning away to get ready for school.
I mentally ran through my usual morning routine.
Shower. Get dressed. Rush downstairs. Move quickly through the kitchen preparing breakfast for the pack.
Once they finished eating, I'd have to clean everything as well.
All of that before 8:30 a.m.
Within twenty minutes I was brushing through my dull red hair and hurrying out of my room. I was already running late.
Dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans, I sprinted down the stairs, my navy-blue sweater draped over my arm. My shoes squeaked loudly against the newly polished floors of the pack house—floors I had polished myself late last night while everyone else slept.
Reaching the kitchen, I tossed my sweater onto the far corner of the counter and began pulling ingredients from the fridge.
Fifteen minutes later I was frying bacon and eggs while pancakes cooked on the stove. I grabbed several large serving plates from the cupboard, setting them on the counter before transferring the food from each pan into its own dish.
There.
I switched off the burners one by one.
It was the same routine every morning. I was used to it.
Next, I pulled out glasses and lined them along the counter before grabbing cartons of apple and orange juice from the refrigerator.
Finally, I placed the utensils beside the plates.
I paused for a moment, scanning everything to make sure nothing was missing.
Breakfast was ready.
Slowly, members of the pack began entering the kitchen. They filled their plates and poured their drinks. Some carried their food to the dining table while others sat on stools around the kitchen island.
I stepped back, hands at my sides as I picked at my nails while waiting for them to finish.
They never took long.
When they were done and began leaving, I quietly cleared the table, wiped down the counters, and started washing the dishes.
By the time I finished, the clock read 8:44 a.m.
"Shit."
Grabbing my sweater from the counter, I suddenly remembered my bag was still upstairs.
I rushed up to my room as quietly as possible, hoping no one would notice how late I already was.
But luck had never really been on my side.
As I closed my bedroom door—if you could even call a single mattress and broken dresser a bedroom—I slammed straight into someone's chest.
Ace.
My brother.
Keeping my eyes lowered, I mumbled an apology.
"Move. Pay attention next time, will you?" he snapped, muttering a curse under his breath as he shoved past me.
He bumped my shoulder as he walked down the hall toward his room, likely grabbing his own bag.
I ignored the small sting of sadness and headed downstairs.
My eyes were slightly damp, but I refused to cry.
Stepping outside the pack house, I watched expensive cars speed past on the gravel driveway as I began the long walk to school.
I was already extremely late.
School started at 9:00 a.m., and the walk alone took nearly twenty minutes.
I let out a dramatic sigh.
Sometimes I wondered if Alpha Kol purposely ordered that no one was allowed to drive me to school just so I'd arrive late—and give him another reason to yell at me.
By the time I reached the dull green metal doors at the front of the school, the time was 9:13.
I pushed the doors open and hurried down the hallway.
Sliding slightly across the polished floor, I nearly missed the classroom door before quickly correcting myself and stepping inside.
"Sorry I'm late," I muttered breathlessly to Mr. Hilton, my English teacher.
He waved dismissively, barely acknowledging me as I walked to the back of the classroom.
Melonie—whose name suited her oversized chest perfectly—stuck her foot out just like she did every morning.
And like every morning, I stepped right over it and sat down at my desk, bracing myself for the painfully dull lesson ahead.
I barely paid attention.
There was a strange feeling in my chest that I couldn't ignore. Instead, I stared out the window, watching squirrels run along the branches of a tree outside.
I found myself wishing I could shift.
Run freely through the woods.
Listen to the sounds of animals around me.
My thoughts were interrupted when something hit the corner of my cheek.
A crumpled piece of paper.
I closed my eyes in irritation.
Now what?
Looking around, I searched for whoever had thrown it, expecting to see someone waiting for my reaction.
But no one was looking at me.
That was strange. Usually they made it obvious when they were messing with me.
I slowly opened the paper.
Written neatly in the center were the words:
It'll be okay, Kat.
My breathing became shallow.
I quickly scanned the classroom again before crumpling the paper tightly and standing to throw it in the trash.
I didn't like the feeling settling in my stomach.
And I definitely didn't need another problem in my life.
Returning to my seat, I carefully avoided another foot sticking out to trip me.
Sometimes I wondered if the teachers here were blind—or if they simply didn't care.
The discipline in this school was practically nonexistent. People could cause serious trouble and still never get suspended.
Sitting down again, I forced myself to focus on the lesson and took a few notes, trying to forget the strange message.
Finally, the bell rang.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Sliding my backpack over my shoulder, I was the last one to leave the classroom.
Out in the hallway, the usual chaos greeted me—screeching teenage girls and annoyingly loud blonde Barbie lookalikes crowded around members of my pack.
The jocks.
The football players.
I slipped through the crowd like I always did and finally reached the other side, turning left toward my next class.
That was when I smelled it.
A scent.
Strong… and growing stronger with every step.
I had never smelled anything like it before. Not in the five years since I had become a wolf.
Five years since I last shifted.
The same year my parents died.
Another wave of the scent reached me, and a smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
Mate.
The scent meant mate.
And suddenly I desperately needed to find him.
I turned quickly, searching for the source of the intoxicating smell.
A shiver ran down my spine.
He was getting closer.
And when I turned again—
There he was.
Tall.
Handsome.
His eyes were a stunning mix of light and dark blue.
My lips parted as a shaky breath escaped me.
I wanted him.
Adrenaline rushed through my body, accompanied by a painful pull toward him.
Please… no.
My hands suddenly felt icy cold, the sting almost painful enough to make me scream—but I couldn't look away.
All I could do was stare.
Numb.
He walked toward me slowly.
I had no words.
This couldn't be happening.
He stopped in front of me, forcing me back against a locker. One hand slammed beside my head.
I wanted to touch him.
I wanted him to touch me.
Another breath left my lips.
No. Don't say it.
I forced myself to remain silent, refusing to reveal anything.
"Listen carefully, Katerina," he began.
His voice was smooth… dangerously captivating.
"You're not good enough to be a Luna. Honestly, I don't even understand how you can call yourself a werewolf. By now you should realize that you're nothing more than a small piece of this pack."
His fist suddenly slammed against the locker beside my ear.
"I can't even begin to understand why the Moon Goddess paired me with someone like you."
Then, in a cold voice that sent chills down my spine, he said:
"I formally reject you, Katerina Bathas, as my mate."
Kol Night.
My Alpha.
He turned his back on me as if I didn't even exist.
A strange feeling crept over me—like someone was watching.
My heart pounded as I glanced around the hallway frantically, but thankfully no one seemed to notice.
And before I could stop myself—
I screamed.
A raw, desperate scream as I tried to release even a fraction of the pain tearing through me.