Date: 2000-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Paranormal; Shapeshifters; Romance; Werewolves; Magic; Demons; Fiction; Witches; Wolves

Luna Wolf

THE MOON ALPHA SERIES

G. BAILEY

REGAN ROSEWOOD

Other Series by G. Bailey & Regan Rosewood

Supernatural Shifter Academy

The Moon Alpha Series

Luna Wolf © 2022 G. Bailey & Regan Rosewood

All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental and formed by this author’s imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is written in British English, therefore some spellings might differ.

Created with Vellum

Contents

Description

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Afterword

About G. Bailey

About Regan Rosewood

25. Supernatural Shifter Academy

Description

I’ve been rejected by everyone—but an alpha heir wants me to be his pretend mate.

As the only wolf shifter in my pack not to shift, being rejected from my home when I turned eighteen was not unexpected when the shifter war is so close. But being sent to a secret academy full of immortal wolf shifters, demons, and teachers with no mortals wasn’t something I planned for.

Luna Alpha Academy is for rejects only.

They choose wolves that no one cares about if they go missing, and if I can survive long enough to learn the dark magic they teach, I might even be welcome back home as a wolf-witch.

Only catch?

My tutor is a hot shifter asshole who takes what he wants—this time it’s me.

In exchange for extra training, Atlas wants me to pretend to be his.

Every kiss, every possessive touch, every growl to anyone that comes near me only makes me want him more.

But I can’t have him. Not really.

He’s the alpha heir.

I’m a wolf who can’t even shift.

We don’t belong together, and it’s fake. It can’t ever be real.

Dark magic is my future and my only way back to my pack.

This is a full-length trilogy full of sexy alpha males, steamy scenes, a strong heroine and a lot of sarcasm. Intended for 17+ readers.

Chapter One

Every teenager has problems. It’s a universal fact, a bit like the law of gravity, or the fact that there are seven continents. I’m not debating that, and I’m sure that someone, somewhere, has problems worse than mine.

But that doesn’t make my current situation any easier, or change the fact that I’m completely, utterly terrified. I’m standing in front of my bedroom mirror, arms stiff at my sides, my face lined with concentration as I look desperately for any signs of hair.

Why, you might ask? Why would any insecure eighteen-year-old want to find hair on her arms—or anywhere else on her body, for that matter?

It’s because I’m not looking for hair at all.

I’m looking for fur, and there’s none to be found.

Disheartened, I take a step away from the mirror and close my eyes, trying to relax my shoulders in spite of the nerves and adrenaline that are surging through me. Taking a deep breath, I try to focus my attention inward, the way the others in my pack do before they shapeshift, looking for any sign of that innate life energy that flows through each of them. My parents and Claire are always saying that shifting is something hard to describe, like flexing a muscle—that once you learn how to activate the ability, it comes as easily as breathing. They would say that, though; none of them have ever had trouble shifting into their wolf forms. None of them have ever had to worry about what will happen if they never learn how to shift, or what the rest of the pack will think of them if they continue to fail at the most basic task a shifter can master.

I can already tell I’m getting tense again at the thought, and desperately try to connect with something—anything—that will tell me this isn’t a lost cause. But there’s nothing. No spark, no hidden surge of energy, no a-ha moment. Just me, Nyx Arcturus, standing in front of my mirror with my blonde hair hanging around my freckled face, looking like a complete idiot.

Groaning, I sit down on my bed and put my head in my hands. In the room next to mine, my sister, Claire, is chatting over the phone with one of her friends, unconcerned about tomorrow, but downstairs, I can hear my parents discussing something in low voices in the kitchen. I don’t need to guess what they’re talking about. Flopping back onto my bed, I drape an olive-skinned arm over my face and do my best to pretend I can’t hear them. It’s no use; tomorrow is Mating Day, and their youngest daughter still hasn’t learned how to shift.

There are a couple things you need to know about wolf shifters if you want to understand my current situation. The first thing is that they aren’t like they are in the movies and TV shows. They always portray them as bloodthirsty monsters, possessed by their transformations when the moon is full: amnesiac and out for blood. Wolf shifters aren’t like that in real life. They keep their sanity and memories when they transform—which, by the way, is completely under their control, full moon or no full moon.

The second thing you have to understand is that there are more werebeings in the world than just wolf shifters. Sure, wolf shifters are the most famous, but we make up only a fraction of the lycanthropes out there. Werepanthers, werebears, and even wereravens all exist, among others, and believe me when I say that most of them don’t take kindly to being mixed up with other species. The war between wolf shifters and others—werebears, especially—have been raging since our ancestors first walked the earth, and our culture is deeply rooted in that conflict.

The last thing you need to know about wolf shifters—and this is by far the most important—is that packs of us live our lives by certain traditions, traditions that, if not followed, would cause chaos throughout our communities. Think of them as rules of conduct, laws by which we live our lives. According to Sebastian, our pack alpha, our traditions are the only thing standing between our survival and losing our territories—and our lives—to the werebears.

This all brings me back to today, as I lie here in my room and pray for a miracle. The ability to shift usually comes to wolf shifters around puberty, and although there are others like me—late bloomers as my mom euphemistically calls us—my inability to shift isn’t the problem here. The problem is that Mating Day is one of our traditions, as immutable as any other, happening once a year whenever the newest group of pack members turns eighteen. It’s the day the next generation of werewolves picks their mates, and if you’re one of the unlucky few not to end up with a mate after Mating Day is over, that’s where the problems start. Not having a mate means not being able to reproduce, and having to contribute to the pack’s survival some other way—usually by undertaking risky assignments for the alpha or becoming the pack healer. But if I can’t find a mate, and I can’t transform? I have no idea what will happen then.

That’s why I’m freaking out.

“Nyx?” I hear my mother’s voice call up from the kitchen. “Are you busy?”

Swallowing hard, I get to my feet. “No,” I call back. “I’m just in my room.” Trying and failing to shift, I want to add.

“Could you come down here for a minute?” she replies. “Your father and I want to talk to you.”

I should’ve seen that coming. Steeling myself, I trot downstairs and into the kitchen, where I find my parents at the table. No longer on the phone, Claire has joined them, and she’s sitting on the counter by the refrigerator, her brows furrowed and her short, dark brown hair ruffled. It’s obvious she’s been running her hands through it—could she be more nervous about my Mating Day than she’s letting on?

“Hey,” I say as I pull up a chair, trying not to let my anxiety show. “What’s up?”

“We just wanted to chat with you a little,” Mom says breezily.

“About tomorrow,” Dad adds, his face looking a little pinched.

I sigh, running a hand through my dark hair. “I should’ve figured.”

“Look, honey, we’re not trying to judge you,” Mom hastens to assure me. “Or lecture you, for that matter. We just wanted to tell you that, well…”

“That we’ll love you no matter what happens tomorrow,” my father finishes for her.

“And you’ll still be a part of our family,” Claire adds, giving me a brisk nod.

I know they’re trying to make me feel better, but this pity party is only making me feel worse. “Thanks, guys,” I tell them anyway. “That’s nice of you to say.” I plaster on a halfhearted smile. “Maybe all this time I’ve had a secret admirer, and I’ll find out just in time for Mating Day.” My smile fades. “Could happen,” I add sarcastically, shaking my head.

“Hey, listen.” Mom leans forward, touching my hand gently. “You’re going to be fine, Nyx, no matter whether you find a mate or not.”

“It’s an outdated institution anyway,” Claire points out, before glancing sheepishly at our parents. “No offense. I know you guys found each other that way.”

“None taken,” Dad says with a chuckle.

“See?” Mom persists. “I mean, look at your sister.” She glances at Claire. “She didn’t get a mate on Mating Day, and she’s now already a Beta, only two years later.” Claire preens a little at the praise, but to her credit, she doesn’t rub it in. I love her to pieces, but she’s always been the perfect older sibling, loved by the pack and respected by Sebastian. It wouldn’t surprise me if she ended up being chosen as the next alpha on her merits alone, and that only increases my sense of inferiority.

“Come on,” I protest, a little pissed off at their misguided attempts to make me feel better. “Claire, you can shift. Not just that, but you’re one of the best shifters in the pack. You’re fine without a mate because you can contribute in other ways. What about me?” I gesture down at myself. “I’m useless to the pack, and everyone sees it.” What goes unsaid, the truth that I think my family knows, but perhaps refuses to acknowledge, is that my fellow packmates do much more than just see it.

And here I was, thinking that bullying stopped after middle school.

“That’s not true,” Mom insists, but I see a flicker of doubt cross her face—not much, but enough that I catch it, and it makes my heart sink. She and Dad were the classic shifter success story: childhood sweethearts who made it official on their own Mating Day, talented shifters in their own right, deeply ingrained into our community. I doubt they ever wondered if they would live up to the expectations of their birth, or the standards set by their community. It hurts to admit, but it’s a truth I’ve known deep down for a long time: I’m not a good shifter. And unless something changes by tomorrow, I doubt I’ll ever be.

I clear my throat, suddenly desperate to clear my head and get some space from my family. “Listen, guys, thanks for the pep talk,” I tell them. “But I think I might just need to be alone for a bit. Who knows, right?” I add, a little snarkily. “Maybe I’ll suddenly learn how to shift.”

“Right,” Dad says, clearing his throat. “Of course.”

“Just remember that we’re here for you,” Mom reiterates, her deep brown eyes meeting my gold ones.

Claire is the only one who doesn’t speak, but I can see the concern on her face as she hops down from the counter and slips past me like the waif she is. My sister has always been petite, slim and gamine, with the speed and agility to match like most females wolves. A far cry from me, with my perpetual clumsiness and curves that I have to struggle to keep in the right places. Those curves are the main reason none of the males want me… and I hate them every time I look in the mirror. Between my curves, out of control hair, and bad fashion taste, no one is going to want me. Clare is stick thin, perfect and beautiful in a classical way that would make any male fall to her feet. And she can shift. If that’s not a metaphor for the difference between us, then I don’t know what is. As she passes, Claire gives me a nudge with her elbow, but I can’t tell if she does it out of reassurance… or pity.

My parents follow suit, and soon I’m alone in the kitchen, but I need some fresh air, and I’m not going to get it in here. Grabbing my coat, I head quickly out the door and into the crisp February air. There’s a secluded place away from town where I always do my best thinking, and it isn’t far from here. It’s freezing out, but the cold doesn’t bother me, and soon I’m crunching through the snow on our sidewalk and down the road.

That’s the other thing people don’t realize about wolf shifters; they always picture us as living in caves somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. The “middle of nowhere” part is true—I guess you could call our mountainside village the middle of nowhere—but we live in cottages, not tents, tucked away amidst rocky cliffs that overlook the North Atlantic Ocean. No humans know we’re here, and our packs are as insular as they are small. Our community has all the trappings of a regular small town Massachusetts… Including the fact that everyone seems to know everybody’s business.

I guess it’s almost inevitable, then, that it’s just as I’m reaching an isolated spot in the shadow of the mountain that a familiar, sneering voice sounds in my ear. “Look who’s decided to come out and play. Little virgin Nyx.”

Fuck.

I whirl around to see Peter Leonard, one of the best shifters my age in the entire tribe, leaning against a building in the shadows. He’s given me hell ever since we were kids, and now he’s got me alone… and he’s brought company with him.

Chapter Two

I glance around, panic rising in my chest and bubbling into my throat. One look confirms my fears: I’m totally isolated here. Night time walk, great idea, Nyx. The mountain is at my back, the exposed cliffside path wrapping lazily around the edge, where it snakes back down into the town. To my left, it narrows to a width of mere feet, dropping sharply down onto the ragged slopes below, where thousands of feet further down, the ocean rages in a perpetual tempest. The only way back is the way I just came, where Peter now stands with his arms out at his sides, looking every inch the douchebag he’s always been. His blond hair is perfectly coiffed, pretentious enough to match his attitude, and at his side is his girlfriend, Marie, whose brown curls are being whipped about by the salty breeze. Trying not to let my terror show, I cross my arms and stare them down. “The only reason I’m a virgin—as you so politely pointed out—is because none of the males in this pack are worth my time. Including—no especially—you,” I fire back at him.

Peter doesn’t seem fazed, but his eyes flash with anger. “I’m sure that attitude will get you far around here, Nyx,” he tells me, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know, considering it’s the only thing you have going for you. No one would want to take you anyway. I’d rather fuck my hand.”

“I’m sure you’re a pro at that,” I resort.

Marie snorts, but says nothing else as Peter gives her a sharp look, and she soon keeps silent. She doesn’t have to be here or say anything; the look on my face must tell them everything they need to know. “Two against one?” I snap, half out of fear and half out of anger. “And to think, I was starting to think you guys weren’t pussies.” We’ve been talking for less than a minute and their needling is already getting under my skin. Peter always seems to know exactly which buttons to push to get a rise out of me. Unwittingly, I catch myself thinking of Claire, of how everything seems to come so easily to her and of how beloved she is in the pack, and I realize my hands have tightened into fists at my sides.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Peter replies, laughing. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” His eyes gleam cruelly in the early afternoon sunlight.

“You ought to take it easy on her, Pete,” Marie says, nudging him, but there’s no sympathy in her voice. “She’s got it rough enough as it is, don’t you, Nyx? What with being the only person in the pack who can’t shift, or do anything else right, for that matter…”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, silently daring me to say something, and damn it, I take the bait. “I thought pack members were supposed to have each other’s backs,” I snipe sarcastically. “I guess you guys didn’t get the memo.”

“Yeah, pack members,” Peter fires back. “But there’s one vital thing you seem to be missing, Nyx: You have to be a wolf in order to be in a pack.”

I press my lips together, my mind racing back in time, and suddenly, I’m a little girl again, shrinking back as the other kids in the pack whisper to one another and pass notes. The all-out taunting didn’t start until later, after they began to develop their shifting abilities and left me in the dust, but they didn’t have to call me names and throw rocks to tell me I wasn’t worthy of being part of their inner circle. It was all in the little things, in the ways they looked at me when they thought I wasn’t watching, or how they always seemed to exclude me from their activities. It’s brutal being an outcast, and even more brutal in a small community. I remember Jonas, the pack healer, suggesting to my parents once that the hazing psychologically damaged me somehow, stunted me so much on some profound level that it messed up my shifting instincts, and wouldn’t that just be a self-fulfilling prophecy? The shifter who got picked on until she became a human.

Can you blame me for being a snarky asshole?

As if reading my mind, Marie steps forward, looking me up and down like I’m some kind of specimen on a laboratory table. “I mean, you have to admit, Nyx, it’s a valid question. Are you sure the humans didn’t drop you off in the village center when you were a baby? Left you to be raised by us wolves?” She gives me a humorless grin. “There are rumors something went wrong when you were born.”

Peter clicks his tongue. “The human cities would be better for you.”

I stare at him, seething, and you have to give me credit for the fact that I don’t flinch. “Are you done?” Whatever mood boost I was looking for clearly won’t be found here. The least they can do is leave me alone to ruminate until tomorrow’s inevitable humiliation. “You may find this hard to believe, but I have things to do that don’t involve listening to this.”

“We’re done when I say I’m done,” Peter replies, his face twisting with malevolence as he closes in on me. A glance over my shoulder tells me I’ve gotten dangerously close to the edge of the cliff; a few pebbles go skittering over the edge behind my boots, and my heart leaps into my throat. They wouldn’t actually do anything to me, would they…?

What makes my blood run cold is the realization that I wouldn’t put it past them. Not Peter, at least. It’s a wolf-eat-wolf world out here in shifter territory, and even the traditions aren’t always enough to quell the occasional overzealous pack member. With that in mind, I make to stride past them, keeping my head high despite the fear, anger, and humiliation raging in my stomach.

“Where are you going, Nyx?” Marie croons, moving to stand in front of me. “You can’t possibly want to leave so soon! We were just getting started!”

“I’ve heard high-risk situations can sometimes activate the shifting ability,” Peter says, grabbing my arm and wrenching me back to where I was. “Maybe we ought to give Nyx here a little help.”

“Get off,” I shout, trying to pull free. “Let me go!”

“Make me,” Peter replies. “Go ahead, shift. Make me stop. You’ve got a whole audience watching!”

The adrenaline is coursing through me by now, but even as I grapple with him, struggling for purchase on the crumbling ledge, I can’t help but frantically scan myself, searching for any sign of shifting potential. There’s nothing. Just soft human flesh and my own flushed shame. Marie watches the struggle with an eyebrow raised, one arm on her hip as we draw closer to the edge, the sheer drop-off looming behind me…

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” barks a new voice.

Peter freezes in his tracks, abruptly letting go of me like I’m poisonous to the touch. I teeter for another moment, and there’s a split second when I’m sure I’ll go crashing down onto the rocks below. That’s when a steadying arm appears out of nowhere, grabbing me by the shoulder and hauling me back onto solid ground. Still disoriented and reeling with fear, I look up to see a silhouette blocking out the sun, and my heart sinks.

“Sebastian,” Peter says, taking a step back to flank Marie. The smarmy bravado on his face is gone, replaced by deference and unease. Even the worst of our kind, the self-serving assholes of the pack like him, still pull back when talking to the alpha. “I didn’t think you were back from your hunt.”

“I am,” Sebastian growls. “You thought wrong.”

He turns his steely eyes down to me, and there’s no mistaking the look of disappointment on his face. “Nyx,” he says flatly. “What’s going on here?”

I get to my feet, brushing the dirt and dust from my cargo pants as I look from him to the others. Their eyes are burning with disgust as they watch me, and there would be no love lost between us if I ratted them out, but that’s not why I stay silent. Sebastian knows as well as anyone that I’m, as Mom would call me, a late-bloomer. I don’t have to tell him what a drag I am on our system and our resources, how few skills or specialties I have compared to the others my age in the pack. All I have is sarcasm. It’s bad enough for him to have to come to my rescue like this; I’m not about to make it worse by tattling like a four-year-old.

“Nothing, Sebastian,” I reply at last, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Peter break into a self-satisfied smirk. “Just a little disagreement.”

“We were talking about tomorrow and how I get to wear green and Nyx can’t,” Marie supplies, putting a hand on her boyfriend’s arm when he bristles at the insult.

Sebastian frowns, and I can tell he doesn’t buy it. “That didn’t look like talking to me,” he says, his eyes returning to the others.

I bite my tongue, waiting it out. The worst part about all this is that I know it won’t make any difference in the long run, but my pride has been wounded enough today as it is. After what feels like an eternal battle of wills, the alpha finally sighs and rounds on the others. “You know the rules about hazing,” he tells them. “If you have a score to settle, you settle it on the battlegrounds.”

Marie looks at the ground. “Yes, sir,” she says.

“Whatever you say,” Peter mutters.

“You can cut the attitude, Leonard,” Sebastian snaps. “Preying on an innocent who can’t fight back goes against the traditions. It’s also a shitty thing to do.” Giving them both a disgusted look, he gestures back in the direction of town. “Get out of here.”

The others glance at one another for a moment before turning and beginning to jog back down the path. As if to rub salt into the wound, they leap into the air as they go, shifting seamlessly from human form to wolf form just as they hit the ground. Werewolves are significantly bigger than regular wolves—not to mention stronger, quicker, and more agile—and never has that been clearer to me than now, as I watch them bound gracefully away along the rocky slopes. What I wouldn’t give to be able to experience that grace myself.

Sebastian and I watch them go, and when I turn back to him, I’m overwhelmed with embarrassment. He’s every inch the quintessential alpha—tall and muscular, with a head of red hair and a beard to match—but right now, he looks older than his thirty-some years. “You’re killing me, Nyx,” he says finally.

“I know,” I reply, sighing as I brush the dirt off my jeans. “I’m sorry.”

“Mating Day is tomorrow,” Sebastian reminds me, as if I don’t know. “What do you plan to tell the rest of the pack if you can’t even defend yourself from a couple of assholes, let alone shift?”

“I’ll come up with something, I’m sure.” I cross my arms. “Maybe I’ll tell them I’ve just been testing them this whole time, that it’s all part of my master plan to weed out the jerks.”

“Nyx…” Sebastian says warningly, and I can tell he’s not buying my diversion. “You know what I’m asking.”

The real question, the important one, is the one that goes unspoken between us. How do you plan to find a mate if you’re nothing more than an outcast?

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “I wish I knew what was wrong with me,” I admit. “I’ve spent months trying to shift, and I’m getting nowhere.”

Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, Nyx,” he says, “I like you. I really do. And whether it seems like it or not, a lot of others around here do, too. But liking you will only go so far, especially in times of war.”

My mind immediately goes to the enemy factions, and I stifle a wince, all trace of humor vanishing from my voice. “You mean like now.”

Sebastian nods slowly. “I mean like now,” he echoes, and lets out a long sigh. “The werebears are gaining ground every day, claiming more and more of our territory. The other packs are scared, and I don’t blame them. Now is the time for action, and for that to happen, we need warriors. Our strength has always been in our numbers.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and meet his eyes, giving him a nod. “Yes, Sebastian.”

“Good.” Sebastian turns to leave, beginning his own descent down the rocky path.

“I won’t let you down,” I call after him, trying to sound more sure than I feel.

Sebastian turns back around at that, and the look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t believe it for an instant. “For your sake, Nyx,” he replies, “I hope you’re right.”

Chapter Three

Mating Day.

It dawns as bright and fresh as any perfect early spring day, the remaining February snow on the ground glittering like diamonds in the bright morning sun. The air seems to crackle with my nervous energy as I follow the road to the Village Square, where the mating selection ceremony takes place every year. Every single year I’ve come to watch, felt the lingering gaze even when I was participating. This day is something I’ve dreaded for a long time. Everyone in the pack is out and on their way to watch, buzzing with excitement as they chatter amongst themselves. They are excited, and a small part of me that still has hope should be too, but I’ve got more chance of a thousand flying unicorns filling the sky than this day turning out good for me. The girls from all over the pack steal nervous glances at the males and vice versa, as if we’re on our way to a school dance instead of arguably the most important event in our lives. Back in the old days, pack members didn’t begin courting until after they had already selected mates, but in the twenty-first century, things are a little less archaic; most people in the pack are either already in relationships or have a pretty good idea of who will pick them.

Except me, of course.

Claire nudges me as we cross into the square, our parents talking in hushed tones to one another a few steps behind us. “You okay?”

“About as ‘okay’ as you would expect, I guess,” I reply quickly. A total lie, of course. I’m shitting bricks, and not just because after yesterday, I’m positive Sebastian has no faith in my capabilities anymore. Not that I blame him, of course. He’s alpha and I’m a wreck. One look around at the other shifters my age confirms what I already knew: The odds of my finding a mate today are slim to none. Barely anyone is even bothering to spare me a second glance, and the ones who do run the gambit from condescending pity to outright disgust. Even the quieter ones, the loners who in any other setting would probably be outcasts like me, are reserving their shy glances for one another, steeling themselves before claiming their mates from among the werewolves who can actually shift. I breathe in the damp forest scent around me, hoping it will calm some of my nerves. My mom used to take me into the forest when I was young and told me to ask nature to give me the gift of a wolf.

Nature ignored me. Bitch.

“You don’t seem fine,” Claire replies, her eyes drifting apprehensively over to Sebastian, who’s taking his place on the northern side of the square.

I sigh, running a hand through my black hair. “I feel like a leper,” I complain in a low voice. “No one’s going to pick me.”

“Are you sure?” She frowns, taking a glance around at the others. “There’s no one who has their eyes on you?”

“Of course not,” I reply, fighting a losing battle with my nerves. “I mean, come on, Claire. Don’t you think someone would have given some sign by now if they had any interest in me?”

“Maybe they’re just shy,” Claire replies, but even she sounds doubtful. It’s wishful thinking at best; I’ve never even been on a date before, let alone with someone in the pack. My only experience with romance, if you can even call it that, is the couple of make out sessions I had with a human guy I met when Claire and I took a trip up to New Hampshire a couple years ago. And he was a lousy kisser, anyway.

I shake my head, jamming my hands into my pockets. “I’m fucked, Claire.”

“That’s not true,” she insists.

That’s when Mom steps forward and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You’re going to be okay, Nyx,” she murmurs. “Remember, you’ve got other things to show for yourself besides shifting.”

I stifle the urge to tell her that this gooey, self-love nonsense doesn’t mean anything in the lycanthropic world, which is as meritocratic as they come, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Mom always thinks the best of everyone, and it’s sweet… but not right at this moment. “Thanks,” I reply, “but I’m not so sure about that.”

Sebastian clears his throat, and the excited voices of the assembled pack members begin to die down. “You’re on, kiddo,” Dad says, nodding in the alpha’s direction. Before him, the other shifters my age have assembled into two lines: males on one side, girls on the other. With me among them, there will be an equal number of both genders. Maybe the situation isn’t totally hopeless, after all. Peter is standing at the front of his line with his hands at his sides, making a concerted effort not to look at me, and the others all seem equally aloof.

There’s no stalling any longer. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hurry to the end of the girls’ line, where next to me, Marie shoots me a disparaging look. I keep my gaze on Sebastian, which isn’t hard to do, as he’s shifting into his wolf form right before my eyes. An enormous red wolf now stands where he was moments before, his fur as red as his human hair and his eyes the same slate gray color. It’s amazing to me how those little traces of the human remain, even when fully transformed.

Sebastian begins to speak, and the pack falls silent. “To all the werewolves who run with the Graymoon Pack,” he says, his canine jaws moving as he speaks in a voice that sounds distinctly human, “I thank you for joining me for this year’s Mating Day. As it was done in the beginning, so it is done today. We respect and honor the traditions.”

“We respect and honor the traditions,” the rest of us echo, following the script to a T. It hasn’t changed in centuries, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the one to fuck it up now. My eyes are already darting along the line of males, desperately searching for some sign, but their expressions are unreadable, all their attention on the alpha.

“Choosing a mate is a great responsibility,” Sebastian continues. “It’s a sign of your commitment—not just to the pack, but to one another. Continuing our legacy is vital to the survival of this pack, and all of shifter kind. After today, each of you will be a fully-fledged member of the Graymoon Pack. You should all be very proud.” He begins to pace back and forth between the rows of teenagers. “Mating is no small thing,” he continues, “and it’s not something that should be taken lightly. Today, you are selecting the person you plan to spend your life with, to shoulder the burdens of your wolf with, to protect the pack with. This ritual is no joke, as much as some of you”—his eyes drift over to Peter—“may think it is.” Sebastian resumes his place at the front. “Should you decide to abstain from selection, or should you not find a mate today, you must have demonstrated that you have something else to offer that will benefit the pack, skills or experience that goes above and beyond the norm. Freeloaders cannot—will not—be tolerated. Understood?”

“Understood,” the assembled shifters repeat, and I do as well, but I’m quaking with fear. Sebastian’s damning words ring in my mind, and nothing I can do is enough to keep them out.

Freeloaders will not be tolerated.

I cast a glance back at my parents, who are clutching each other’s hands like their lives depend on it. They’re terrified too, and they have every reason to be. Next to them, Claire watches, her lips pressed into a flat line. My heart is pounding fast, and I can’t focus on anything but the noise of it in my ear.

“Jason Conrad,” Sebastian says, bringing my attention back to him as he addresses the first male in the line, “step forward.”

Jason, a tall, lanky male with a friendly disposition, takes a step forward, his expression one of stoic commitment. His eyes immediately lock with those of a petite blonde girl, Helen.

“Who do you choose as your mate?” Sebastian asks.

“Helen Callister,” Jason replies without hesitation.

“So it shall be,” Sebastian says. “Consider yourselves mated in the eyes of the pack, our ancestors, and each other. You may rejoin your fellow pack members.”

Helen and Jason join hands, embracing tightly for a moment before retreating from the group to stand amongst their excited relatives.

“It continues,” Sebastian says once everyone has settled down. “Colton DeWitt, step forward…”

I watch in breathless anticipation as one by one, each of the males is called up, and one by one, each of them chooses a mate from among the girls. Nobody gives me so much as a second glance, and I can feel myself growing more tense by the second. At last, just as the anxiety is growing unbearable, there are only four of us left: two males and two girls. I’m standing next to Anastasia Avery, a statuesque girl who could probably be a supermodel if she wanted. Across from us are the dark-eyed Sam Mears and the muscular Christopher Baldwin. They’re both good-looking, and I suppose I could see settling with any of them. It’s not like I have much of a choice at this point. Whatever it takes to not end up the only one left. As long as neither of them opts out of the ritual, I should be okay.

“Sam Mears,” Sebastian says, “step forward.”

My heart jumps to my throat as Sam shuffles out of line, not looking at me. “Who do you choose as your mate?” Sebastian asks.

There’s a long moment of silence as we all await his decision, but there’s a look of conflict on his face that I don’t like. It almost makes me worry he’s about to—

But I don’t have time to finish the thought. “Actually, Alpha,” Sam says, turning to Sebastian, “I abstain from the mating ritual.”

A stir goes through the crowd, and my heart sinks. If Sam backs out, then it will be me and Anastasia when it’s Christopher’s turn, and it’s not hard to guess which one of us he’ll pick when push comes to shove.

“Are you sure about this?” Sebastian asks, his eyes darting briefly to me. Pity. Pure pity shines in his eyes.

“Yes,” Sam replies without hesitation. “I’m training under the pack healer, Jonas, to assume his place when he steps down. I would…” He glances at me apologetically. “I would ask to focus on my training so that I can better serve the pack when the time comes.”

You bastard! I want to yell, most likely while shaking his shoulders. You know this is my last shot! But that would break ceremonial etiquette, and as much of a loudmouth as I can be, even I know better than to make that kind of mistake.

“Is this true, Jonas?” Sebastian asks, turning to the healer.

“It is,” Jonas speaks up from his place in the crowd. “I can vouch for him, sir. He’s a brilliant apprentice, and he’ll do right by the pack.”

“Very well, then,” Sebastian replies. “I’ll allow it. You may rejoin your fellow pack members, Sam.”

“Thank you, Sebastian,” Sam says, bowing in deference as he retreats. “I won’t let you down.”

My shoulders slump, tears stinging at my eyes. He would rather abstain completely than pick me as a mate. If that doesn’t speak to my place in this pack, then I don’t know what does. The worst part is, I can’t even fault him in the end. I wouldn’t have picked me, either. I don’t have the supermodel looks like the other females, I’m too curvy, too strange… so unlike all of them.

The others are now murmuring excitedly to one another, and my mom has put her hands over her mouth. They know what this means, and it all spells trouble for me.

Somber, Sebastian turns to Christopher, the last remaining male in the line. “Christopher Baldwin,” he says, “step forward.”

I can barely breathe as Christopher complies, and I’m keenly aware of Anastasia’s presence next to me.

“Who do you take as your mate?” Sebastian asks, his wolf eyes gleaming.

Christopher doesn’t even need to think about it. “I choose Anastasia Avery,” he says, and I can almost hear Anastasia’s relieved sigh. A sense of unreality comes over me as I watch her join hands with Christopher, my one chance at finding a mate disappearing in the blink of an eye. They retreat into the audience, leaving me alone in the middle of the Village Square with Sebastian staring me down. I can tell they’re all watching me, waiting for a reaction, but I’m utterly numb, my ears ringing and my cheeks burning. I won’t let a single tear fall in front of them. I can’t. I have to be strong.

“If there are no objections,” Sebastian says in a stoic tone, “then this concludes this year’s Mating Day. I wish all of you the best in your new pairs and know that your commitment to shifter kind will not be forgotten.”

“So shall it be,” the crowd echoes, but I can’t make myself say the words. I can’t even bring myself to look at my family; I already know what they’re thinking.

I’m a wolf shifter who can’t shift, and I don’t have a mate. Whatever problems I had before, they’re about to get a lot bigger.

Chapter Four

If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think someone had died. My parents, Claire, and I are all seated around the kitchen table in silence, waiting for the inevitable phone call, and all of their previous optimism has gone. I guess that’s what happens when you can’t avoid reality anymore: When the ugly truth finally sinks in, it’s impossible to keep being idealistic.

Did you really think it would be that easy? I want to ask them. Did you really think I would find a mate after spending eighteen years being the most useless person in the pack?

But I don’t say anything, partly because I don’t want to upset them further, and partly because I know it won’t do any good. Instead, I’m left to wait in tense anticipation of what we all know is coming.

Claire is the first one to break the silence, her fingers drumming impatiently on the table. “He’ll find something else for you, Nyx. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Like what?” I reply, and her silence is all the answer I need. “I can’t fight for shit, I’m no healer and I can’t shift. What exactly do you think he is going to suggest when he calls?”

No one answers, but my mom’s eyes fill with tears as she looks to my dad. Something unspoken crossing their expression.

After what feels like an eternity, at last the kitchen phone rings, but I can’t bear to answer it. I’m paralyzed with fear, and so is everyone else by the looks of it. Mom is the one who finally gets up and grabs the receiver, its shrill ringtone echoing somberly in the kitchen. “Hello?” she says, nervously wrapping the cord around her wrist. “Sebastian, yes,” she says, and my heart immediately sinks. “Yes, she’s here,” she continues, her eyes darting quickly over to me. There’s a long moment of silence as the alpha says something on the other end, and my mother grimaces. “Yes, of course,” she replies. “I’ll let her know. She’ll be there shortly.” She hangs up without another word and turns to face us, wringing her hands. “It’s Sebastian,” she says, as if we hadn’t already figured it out. “He says he wants to speak to Nyx at his cottage. Immediately.”

Panic washes over me, my vision swimming. I’m unsteady on my feet as I stand up from the table, and Dad takes notice. “He didn’t say what it was about,” he points out. “It could be nothing.”

“Maybe he’s arranged another job for you,” Mom says hopefully. “He doesn’t usually do this.”

“Yeah,” I agree dryly, “and I’d say that’s a pretty bad sign.”

Claire glances at me, conflicted. “Do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “Maybe I can put in a good word for you.”

I shake my head. “Thanks, Claire, but no. The last thing I need is for someone to fight my battles for me.” Especially not the golden child of the whole pack. If I’m leaving, I’m not taking anyone else with me. They have their wolves, and they belong here. I never have. I belong nowhere. I take a shaky breath. “He wants to see me alone, so I’ll go alone.”

“Hey,” Mom says, taking my wrist as I turn to leave, “you’re going to be fine.”

“Maybe,” I reply bitterly, “but probably not.”

None of them bother to correct me as I leave the kitchen.

* * *

The alpha’s cottage is at the northernmost end of the village, and the roads are deserted by the time I leave the house. Everyone else must be at home celebrating, making it official with their mates, long nights of disappointing sex for the girls, I Imagine, and everyone excitedly preparing for the next phase of their lives as shifters. Truthfully, a part of me is glad I wasn’t chosen to be someone’s mate. There are no males in this pack I’m attracted to and a life as someone’s mate who I don’t love would be… endless in a bad way. But life without a pack, without a wolf, isn’t something I want to sign up for either. Humans are cruel, live much shorter lives than we do, and I’d be alone for a long time. I wouldn’t be able to see my family and that thought stings the most. I guess I should consider myself lucky that nobody is outside to give me shit, especially Peter and Marie, but even that just makes me feel more isolated. It’s as if the neighborhood itself has rejected me.

My nerves are getting the better of me by the time I arrive outside the small, picturesque cottage housing the most powerful wolf in the pack. Whatever happens now is out of my hands, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve been swept away by a storm. It’s all I can do to walk slowly up to the ivy-covered door, raise an unsteady hand, and knock.

A long time passes with no response, and for a moment, I dare to hope that maybe he’s not around, that he’s changed his mind. I’m on the verge of turning around and leaving when the door opens to reveal Sebastian standing on the threshold. The alpha fills the space, the light from within surrounding his outline, and for a second, fear laces into my chest.

“Hello, Nyx,” he says, his voice infuriatingly stoic and his nose twitching as he scents my fear. “No need to fear me, I won’t hurt you. Come on in.”

I swallow hard and follow him inside, and even though my nerves are getting the better of me, I can’t help but admire the old-fashioned decor and stone fireplace in the center of the living room. There’s a fire roaring there already to keep out the February cold, and Sebastian stokes it idly as I take a seat on the couch, my heart pounding in my chest. He seems to be stalling, putting off an uncomfortable conversation, and I want to scream at him to just get it over with already.

At last, the alpha sits down in the chair across from me, his gray eyes stony. “I assume you know why I asked you to come here, Nyx.”

I swallow hard, my mouth dry, and reply, “I think I can take a wild guess.”

Sebastian’s brow furrows. “Now isn’t the time for sarcasm, Nyx.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. “You brought me here because no one picked me at the ceremony today. Sir.” I know I won’t get anywhere by copping an attitude, but I can’t help it. I’m angry at Sebastian, I’m angry at the pack, but most of all, I’m angry at myself for not being enough.

“That’s part of it, yes,” Sebastian acknowledges, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but not all of it. Not everyone is required to find a mate, as evidenced by what happened with Sam today.” He sighs. “Part of me wishes he did participate, and that he’d picked you. It would be saving me a lot of grief right now.” There’s a pause. “But he’s chosen his path,” Sebastian continues, “and as pack leader, I’m required by the traditions to grant him his request. Just like I’m required to have this conversation with you today.”

“What conversation?” I ask, swallowing hard. My throat suddenly feels dry. There hasn’t been a rejected wolf in over a hundred years. I can’t be rejected from the pack. I can’t.

Sebastian is silent for a long time, no doubt trying to figure out the best way to break the news to me. “I told you the other day that the war with the werebears is worsening by the day. We don’t have the resources to spare to protect pack members who don’t pull their weight. They’re a liability, and the last thing we need right now is a liability.”

He means me. Clearly.

“What if I do something else?” I desperately suggest. “I could assist the scouts, maybe, or help maintain the village grounds.”

But Sebastian is already shaking his head. “What’s the point, if you can’t defend yourself when you need to? Not being able to shift is a huge detriment, Nyx—not just to you, but to the rest of the pack. If you were attacked, or kidnapped, you couldn’t fight them. You could tell them all our secrets and they would use you against us. It would be one thing if you had something special to contribute—hell, that’s what happened to me when I didn’t find a mate on Mating Day—but you don’t. For all intents and purposes, you might as well be just a…”

He trails off, but I know what he was going to say. “Human,” I finish for him. “I might as well be just a human.”

“I’m sorry, Nyx,” Sebastian replies. “I wish it could be different, but my hands are tied.” He takes a deep breath. “I have no choice. Nyx, from this day forward you may no longer consider yourself a member of the Graymoon Pack. You are rejected.”

That’s not fair, I want to protest. You don’t even have a mate! What gives you the right to kick me out?

He doesn’t need one, the cynical part of me reminds me. He’s the alpha. He can do what he wants. That’s what’s so fucked about this whole thing.

“What’s going to happen to me?” I ask at last, ready to be done with it and rip off the bandage. I’m not crying over this… at least not in front of him.

“That’s up to you,” Sebastian coldly replies. “You’ll be allowed to remain in contact with your family, of course—I’m not that cruel—but the traditions dictate that you may never live among the pack again or come to pack lands. You’ll be expected to collect your things, get your affairs in order, and be out of the village promptly.”

I stare at him, fending off the urge to cry by embracing my frustration instead. “Where am I supposed to go, Sebastian?” I demand. “What am I supposed to do?”

Sebastian only shakes his head sadly. “I can’t tell you, Nyx,” he says, and that’s the final nail in the coffin. “Nor can I help you when you don’t have a wolf.”

* * *

“This is bullshit,” Dad growls, stalking back and forth in the reading room. “They can’t just kick you out like this.”

“They can,” I reply sullenly from where I’m leaning against the wall by the bookshelves. “They just did.”

“We’re allowed to appeal his decision, aren’t we?” Mom asks, crossing her arms on the sofa. “We can’t send her away… this can’t be happening. Not like he said.”

“What will that change?” I ask, throwing up my arms, barely hearing what my mom even said as my body shakes with fear and anger. “He said I can’t contribute to the pack. He said I’m a liability. And he’s right.”

“That’s not true, honey,” Dad protests. “You’re not a—”

“Don’t,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “Don’t try to make me feel better, okay? There’s no point in sugar-coating it.” I sigh, looking down at the floor. “He’s right, and you all know it. I can’t shift, I can’t fight, and I can’t defend the pack from the werebears.”

My parents exchange a look but say nothing.

Sighing, I rake my fingers through my hair. “Maybe I can go to one of the human cities,” I say at last. “I could find a normal job. Live a normal life. Nice and boring.” But that option seems equally infeasible. I have no documents, no connections, and no job prospects. I’m nobody.

That’s when Claire, who up until this point has been staring silently out the window, speaks up. “There is one other option.”

I frown. “What?”

My dad is already shaking his head. “No. No way. It’s too dangerous and I won’t send her to that place. We might as well sign her death warrant if we did.”

“It’s the only choice she has!”

“Claire,” Mom protests, standing up, “I don’t think you understand what you’re—”

“What?” I ask, more loudly this time, but they still ignore me.

“There’s no way of knowing if they’ll even let her in,” Mom reasons, giving me a cryptic look. “We know how secretive they are. And if she can’t shift… They won’t allow her to go.”

“A lot of people there can’t shift,” Claire replies. “Among… other things.”

Dad scoffs. “Do you know where to find it, Claire? Because I don’t. I’m not even sure if it exists at all.”

“It exists,” Claire replies flatly, but doesn’t elaborate further.

“What are you guys talking about?” I demand.

That at last gets their attention. Mom and Dad exchange another glance, but Claire is the one to answer me. “There’s a place,” she says, “a place for people like you.”

“ ‘People like me?’ ” I ask incredulously.

“Werewolves who were rejected,” Claire replies. “Rejected by their packs. But there is a price to pay for living there.”

I can’t help but raise my eyebrows. “So you’re saying I’m not the only one this has happened to recently. I thought the last one was over a hundred years ago.”

Now Mom steps in, shaking her head. “There are plenty of others, but this place keeps them immortal. It’s part of the price they pay. Blame the alphas, blame the traditions, blame whatever you want. But you’re not alone, Nyx.”

“That’s funny,” I reply with a wan smile, “because right now, I’m feeling pretty damned alone.”

Immortal rejected wolves? Is everyone drunk?

“You’re all just assuming this place even exists,” Dad interjects.

“You know it does, Robert. After what happened, we both know,” Mom says, and although her expression is conflicted, her voice is firm. “They were also the only reason our kind wasn’t wiped out by werebears decades ago.”

“And you’re suggesting we send our own daughter off to these people?” Dad rounds on her. “Elena, you can’t possibly tell me you’re considering this.”

“What choice do we have?” Claire asks desperately, glancing over at me. “What choice does Nyx have?”

I swallow hard, my eyes going from her to my father, his eyes blazing and masking his fear, to my mother, who looks suddenly pensive… and yet strangely hopeful. It’s only then that I realize I still have no idea what they’re actually talking about.

“What is this place?” I ask, turning from my parents to Claire. “Where are you talking about sending me?”

Claire’s expression is dead serious when she replies. “An academy,” she says at last. “And it might be your last hope.”

Chapter Five

The night passes in a fit of fever dreams and restless tossing and turning. My mind is racing as I struggle to get comfortable in a bed that won’t be my own for much longer, and when I finally drift off into a fitful sleep, my mind is still swimming.

An academy, and it might be your last hope. Claire’s words echo in my mind like some kind of horrific chant, and never—not even after I fall asleep—is it lost on me how dire my situation is. My parents seem to vanish into their own hushed conversations, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they’re talking about: They’re looking for some other way out, some solution that doesn’t involve sending me away to a secret boarding school, full of immortal wolves and a price to pay for staying there. Part of me wonders if I’d be better off pretending to be human.

Judging by my mom’s obvious distress when I wake up the following morning, they haven’t found another place for me to go. Part of me is interested in this academy, but a bigger part of me is terrified about what an academy full of rejected wolves would be like.

“We’ll figure something out,” Dad insists for the millionth time as he helps me pack my bags. “We’re not going to leave you high and dry, Nyx.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have much of a choice,” I say, rubbing my forehead as I take inventory of my meager possessions: a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts, a faded military jacket, and my trusty leather boots. Besides those, and a bag full of snacks Mom insisted on packing me, I have nothing else to my name. “Any word from Sebastian?” I ask, turning to my mother.

Mom shakes her head from where she’s standing in the front room. “Nothing. The least he could do is come say goodbye to your face.”

I sigh as I zip up my duffel bag. “There’s no point, Mom. It’s not him, it’s the traditions.” I can’t keep the bitter sarcasm out of my voice.

My parents glance at one another sadly, but whatever is going through their minds isn’t clear. Judgment? Disappointment? Anger? Maybe it’s best not to know. At least this way I don’t have to deal with the guilt of having let them down again. It occurs to me that this may very well be the last time I see them, or the home where I’ve lived my whole life, ever again, and my throat feels suddenly thick.

I bite the inside of my lip hard enough to draw blood. I won’t cry. Not now.

Mom catches my arm at the top of the stairs and pulls me to a stop. I turn as she pulls out a necklace from her pocket, holding it up in the light. It’s a simple black stone necklace, nothing fancy about it but it’s very beautiful in its simplicity.

Dad grunts and walks down the stairs, anger rolling off his tense shoulders. Mom turns me back to her, placing the necklace over my head, and it falls to the middle of the chest, a light weight to the stone. “I never want to give you this and I don’t know what it is… but it’s yours.”

“That makes no sense. Where did you get it?” I ask.

She pales at the question and cups my cheeks. “You are our miracle, Nyx. Don’t ever let this world dim your brilliant heart.”

Tears drop down my cheeks as she lets go and walks past me, not answering my question. I touch the necklace, feeling how cold the stone is and tuck it into my shirt, heading downstairs.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Claire asks as the four of us head out the front door and descend the low stone steps to the road.

“Maybe I’ll join the circus,” I reply dryly. “At least they would have a place for me.”

“Nyx, I’m serious,” Claire complains. She glances over at our parents. “What about what I… mentioned to you yesterday?”

“Honey…” Mom says, glancing over at Dad, but then she just shakes her head.

That, more than anything, is what finally breaks through to me. That look of resignation on her face, like even she would rather risk whatever this so-called academy has in store for me than the fate that awaits me out there on my own.

I swallow, shaking my head. “It sounds too good to be true,” I say, looking from her to my dad, “but if there’s no other option, then maybe…” I clear my throat. “What do I have to lose?”

“Your life, for starters,” Dad snaps, his tone betraying his fear. “Do you have any idea what they do there? The things they teach their students?”

That stuns me into silence, and I raise my eyebrows. “What things?” I look from him to the others, and my eyes narrow. “You said you weren’t even sure it was real, Dad.”

Dad gives me a long look, his expression conflicted. “Trust me, Nyx,” he says at last, “some things aren’t worth believing.”

I debate asking him what he means but then think better of it. If whatever it is, is bad enough to spook my unflappable, capable father, then maybe he’s right. Maybe it is better not to know.

Mom is the first one to embrace me, giving me a long hug that I savor as much as I can, well aware that it could be our last. “You can always call us,” she says. “We’re here for you, even from a distance.”

I nod. “Thank you, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Dad pulls me into one of his famous bear hugs, but when he steps back, his expression is dead serious. “Be careful, Nyx,” he says, and I can tell from his tone that his words hold more meaning than I could possibly know.

He and my mother retreat to the steps, leaving Claire and me on our own by the road. “You’re going to be fine,” she tells me.

“I hope you’re right.”

Claire hugs me, and for a long moment, neither of us says anything, but when I move to break away, her grip on me tightens. “The academy is close,” she says in a low, urgent tone, too quiet for our parents to hear. “Follow the coastline south through the woods. Look for a three-pointed stone. You’ll find it if they want you to. They’ll help you. I know they will and don’t look back. Don’t ever come back, Nyx.”

“How will I know—” I begin.

But she’s already letting me go, giving me a sharp nod as she returns to our folks. “Good luck, Nyx.”

* * *

Follow the coast, she said. So I do.

Part of me still isn’t sure I’m doing the right thing, especially when I see a sign for the nearest city and a garage a few miles away. I could hitch a ride, figure out something… and…

I pause.

I don’t want to hide with the humans because I am not one, no matter if my wolf is nonexistent. Claire never gave any indication of how she even knew this place existed, let alone any details about its name or what they do there. It could be a hoax, wishful thinking. And if it really does exist, is it even somewhere I want to be? The look on my father’s face when Claire brought up the subject still hasn’t left me, and it sends a chill down my spine. What do they do to their students? What did he mean when he said some things aren’t worth believing?

More importantly, why were they all so cagey about telling me what they teach there?

But I’m out of options. My parents gave me what human money they had before I left, but it won’t get me far. I know I can’t be far from human settlements, but what would I do when I got there? Work under the table somewhere without an apartment or a bank account? Beg on the streets? Actually join the circus?

I make my way down the snaking mountainside path that leads away from the village, doing my best to focus on not tripping over the loose stones and ragged bumps. It’s easier said than done, especially when I can’t stop stealing glances over my shoulder at the town I’m leaving behind. Even when it’s long out of sight, disappearing around the corner of the cliff behind me, I still half-hope that I’ll hear a voice calling to me to come back, telling me that it was all a mistake or a big, sick joke. But no voices come, and soon I’m disappearing into the silence of the wilderness.

Maybe this is a good thing, I tell myself. At least you’ll never have to see Peter and Marie again. Or see how disappointed Sebastian is in you. This could be a chance to make a new start… if you don’t die first. That last part is a bit of a tall order.

Claire didn’t give me any further directions, so I’m left to wander southward, sticking to the tree line on my left that gives way to the roaring ocean below. Even this close to the edge, the foliage is thick, the trees so densely packed that it quickly becomes difficult to maintain my sense of direction. Just seeing the ocean is a challenge through the hundreds of tree trunks, and as minutes turn to hours, I start to doubt myself more and more. The path is overgrown, so much that it can hardly even be considered a path anymore, and as the sun descends lower and lower in the sky, a vague sense of fear begins to set in.

I come to an abrupt stop after walking for more than four hours, and it’s only as I look around to try to get my bearings that the real unease takes hold of me. Where is the three pointed stone Claire mentioned? Surely there would be some sign if I were getting close to the academy…? Could I have gotten turned around and started heading in the wrong direction?

That’s not the only reason fear begins to bubble up in my chest, however. The other, far more pressing reason, is that I feel like I’m being watched. I spend a long time telling myself that it’s nothing, that I’m just psyching myself out because I’m alone in the woods, and for a while it works… Until it doesn’t. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to either find a shelter or set one up for myself, and when night falls, any sense of security that comes from being in the daylight will go out the window. It’s only now, as I’m glancing hurriedly around myself, that I realize just how far away I am from anyone who could help me. I don’t know where any of the other packs are, and if there are other shifters in these woods… Werebears, for example…

“Stop it,” I tell myself, my voice muffled by the dense greenery.

I continue onward, my heart thumping in my chest as that persistent sense of being followed hounds my every step. At one point, I’m sure I hear a branch breaking behind me, and I whirl around, only to see nothing but blackness between the trees. It’s taking everything I have not to give in to full-blown panic, and I’m so caught up in my fear that I almost don’t notice the small stack of stones at the base of one of the upcoming trees. Relief washes over me as I come to a stop in front of it, bending down to examine it more closely and see what is resting right on top of it. A three pointed stone. It looks like a star, made of pure black crystal. I frown. It looks just like the necklace.

A rustling sound behind me stops me pulling out the necklace, along with the much more telltale snapping of twigs under someone’s boots. Footsteps, and they’re headed right for me.

At last, the terror that’s been threatening to take hold of me ever since I entered the woods comes to the surface, and rational thought goes out the window. I scramble away from the stones in a blind panic, branches whipping my face and scratching my arms as I blunder away through the woods. This was a mistake. This whole fucking thing was a mistake. The stones are a trap, I’m certain of it. I’m being hunted, and now I’m going to die out here in the forest like the loser that I am. I’ll never prove Sebastian wrong and my parents will find my body in a shallow grave somewhere, torn to pieces by werebears, and—

That’s when I burst through the trees, not paying attention to anything other than my all-consuming fear. The tree line plunges away sharply in front of me, the drop off mere feet from where I am. I don’t even see it coming until it’s too late, and although I try to keep myself from falling, there’s no avoiding it. My feet skid out from underneath me as I stumble to the cliff, and the next thing I know, I’m tumbling over the edge.

I plummet down toward the water, a sickening fear filling my stomach, and it’s all I can do to brace myself for the impact. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that it will be quick and waiting for the inevitable crash… But it doesn’t come. Instead, I stop in midair, caught and supported by something as big and gentle as a giant’s hand. For a moment, I’m sure I’m dead already, that this is some kind of hallucination, and when I open my eyes, I can’t even comprehend what I’m seeing.

I haven’t hit the water or the ground, or crashed into the mountainside. Instead, I’m suspended in midair by a platform of swirling darkness. It pulsates and shifts like tangible smoke, ice-cold and somehow solid, despite having all the characteristics of a cloud. It seems to swim through the air around me, surrounding me in a cocoon of darkest black that somehow keeps me from dropping the rest of the way down the slope. After a moment, I begin to rise, pulled back up by that same smoky force, the water receding below me like I’m being lifted in some otherworldly elevator. The next thing I know, I’m being returned to the ledge, the pocket of darkness depositing me neatly back on the stony cliff before dissipating into the air as easily as vapor. I miss the darkness the second it disappears.

Gasping for breath and in a daze, I struggle to get back to my feet, shivering uncontrollably. It’s as I’m lifting my head that I stop once more.

There’s a tall, dark-skinned man standing between me and the tree line. He’s dressed all in black, and his arms are outstretched before him, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed together in concentration. Residual tendrils of smoke still circle lazily around his hands and between his fingers. After a long moment he drops his arms, turning his dark eyes to me expectantly.

I can only stare at him stupidly, still trying to process what just happened, until at last he nods and gives me a polite smile.

“We’ve been looking for you, Nyx.”

Chapter Six

My name coming out of this stranger’s mouth is more than enough to convince me that I’ve had some kind of break with reality, and I sway on my feet, my knees threatening to buckle and send me tumbling back over the cliff. In a couple of swift strides, the man catches hold of my jacket and gives me a steadying clap on the back. “Easy, easy,” he says. “You’re all right. Here, take a seat. It’s always a bit strange the first time it happens to you,” he adds with a chuckle, completely unfazed by it all. Helping me onto a nearby rock, he plops down beside me. He crosses his legs and leans back as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, like we’re just having afternoon tea instead of recovering from a paranormal (and very much near-death) experience.

My throat is as dry as paper, but as my heartbeat slowly returns to normal, I manage to rasp, “The first time what happens to you?”

The man gives me an appraising look, as if debating how much he should tell me, and then says, “We’ll get to that in a minute. First, I think some introductions are in order.” Extending a hand to me, he flashes me a friendly smile. “I’m Charles. Charles Haskell. And you’re Nyx Arcturus.”

I look down at his hand disbelievingly, but don’t shake it. “How do you know who I am?”

Charles shrugs, his hands dropping to his knees. “I know a lot about you, Nyx. For example… I know that you’re eighteen years old, and that you’re a shifter who can’t shapeshift. I know that, up until quite recently, you were a member of the Graymoon Pack… and I know that you’re very much in need of a place to stay.”

I bristle. “What are you, then? Some kind of stalker?” A cold rush of fear takes hold of me. “Some other shifter? A werebear?” I’ve never heard of any other werebeings using powers like the ones he just used, but still…

“Nothing quite so dramatic, I’m afraid,” Charles replies. “I’m a wolf shifter, just like you are.” To prove his point, he extends his hand, and I watch in disbelief as jet-black fur ripples down his wrist and up to his elbow, his fingers becoming a wolf’s paw as easily as breathing. I’m struck by a pang of jealousy, but it’s dulled by my confusion. “And as for how I know all these things about you,” Charles continues, his hand returning to normal, “that’s an easy one. Probably the easiest question to answer, actually. We’ve been keeping an eye on you, Nyx. Since you were born, to be truthful. We sense potential, and you were born with more than you can understand.”

“I don’t even… Who’s ‘we?’ ” I run my hands through my hair, overwhelmed, and then, out of nowhere, it clicks. Back stiffening, I level him with an incredulous stare. “It’s real, then. You’re with them. The academy.”

Charles smiles. “Now you’re getting it.”

I swallow hard. “My sister told me about you. She said to look for the three pointed stone, that you would be able to help me. I didn’t know if…” I swallow again, my throat still dry. “Nobody in my family would tell me much about it. All they said was that it was dangerous and secret. That you are immortal wolves who pay a price.”

“Perhaps your family knows more than they were letting on,” Charles suggests. “Most werewolves do, whether they choose to admit it or not—even to themselves. Sure, they’ve heard the stories, and the whispers behind closed doors never stop. Rumors. Conspiracy theories. Whatever you want to call them. It’s fear of the unknown, plain and simple… But when push comes to shove, the unknown can sometimes be our best hope, don’t you agree?”

I catch myself thinking back to my last exchange with my father and shiver involuntarily. I can’t help but feel like I’ve just stumbled into something far greater, and far more mysterious, than I could possibly understand. My eyes drift over to the cliff, and the raging water that stretches beyond it to the horizon. “That thing you did back there,” I say at last, seizing on the obvious question, not looking at Charles, “what was that? With the…” I make a vague gesture. “The smoke.”

“Ah,” Charles says, smiling, “that’s the golden question, isn’t it?” He gets to his feet and extends a hand to me. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. It’s getting dark out, and it would be better to explain on the way.”

I lean away, suspicious. “On the way to where?”

“On the way to the academy.”

Scowling, I reply, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Charles sighs, gesturing around at the surrounding forest. “Would you rather stay out here? Wander through the forest until you die of exposure? Or worse?” His eyes darken. “We’re not far from werebear country. Is that really a risk you want to take? You know what they do to female wolves, girl.”

I hesitate, mulling it over, and then sigh. “No,” I reply resignedly. “I guess not.”

“Then come on,” Charles urges me, nodding down at his outstretched hand.

I stare at it for a moment longer and then take it. Charles helps me to my feet, and although I’m still not totally steady, the worst of the fear is subsiding. Without another word, he turns and begins to head back into the woods, and I’m helpless to do anything but follow him. “So what was that?” I persist as we disappear into the shroud of trees. “You still haven’t told me. Was it magic?”

“In a sense, yes,” Charles replies, deftly navigating the dense forest like he’s done it a million times. “It was dark magic.”

“Dark magic?” I reply incredulously. “I thought magic didn’t exist.”

Charles laughs. “You know, it’s funny how often I hear that from shifters. We’re capable of literally changing our shape, altering reality, and yet so often we can’t comprehend that there are other types of magic in the world.”

I turn my attention to the ground in front of me. “I can’t shapeshift.”

Charles looks at me. “Well, you’re not alone. Many of our students can’t. Those who can have been kicked out of their packs for other reasons: not finding a mate, not being a strong enough fighter, breaking with the traditions—that’s a big one. The list goes on and on.”

“So it’s true, then?” I ask. “You only accept werewolves who were rejected by their packs?”

“That’s correct.” Charles eyes another cairn, although I can’t be sure whether it’s the one I passed earlier. I can already feel that same sense of fear bubbling up inside me, so I focus on Charles and our conversation, pushing my concern away. “Only those who have been cast out, whose connections with their packs have been severed, are capable of harnessing the powers we teach at the academy.”

“Dark magic,” I say, finally catching on.

Charles nods. “Dark magic.”

“But why?” I can’t help but ask, that irrational fear growing stronger as we pass another cairn. “What’s the point?”

“The point?” Charles turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “The point is that we’re at war. The werebears have the advantage in size, strength, ferocity… and no matter how much the wolf shifter alphas try to spin it, they’re fighting a losing battle. And it won’t stop there. Once the werebears have wiped us out, they’ll start eradicating other species of lycanthropes, and after them, who knows? Maybe they’ll go after the humans next. Our entire world is on the brink of destruction.”

“But what does that have to do with dark magic?” I persist as we come to a stop beside the tallest cairn of them all. The fear is crashing down on me in waves now, a profound sense of terror that nearly takes my breath away, and only by keeping my eyes locked on Charles am I able to keep from losing control and sprinting away into the forest.

“Everything,” Charles replies. He raises his hand, more inky blackness licking between his fingers, and just like that, the fear subsides.

My breath comes out in a whoosh. “What was that?”

“Dark magic,” he explains. “A powerful enchantment around the border of the academy grounds. It’s designed to instill abject terror into anyone who strays close enough to stumble onto what we’re doing here. We can’t have prying eyes on our activities.”

“So we’re close?” I ask, trying to peer further into the forest, but it’s so thick that I can’t see anything but trees.

“About a mile out,” Charles replies. “The going gets easier from here.”

And he’s right; almost as soon as we’re past the last pile of stones, a path begins to wind through the trees, becoming broader and more trafficked the farther in we go. Lanterns hang sporadically from the branches over our heads, throwing a warm golden glow over the path, and relief washes over me. It’s clear we’re approaching a settlement. “So you’re training rejects, then,” I ask after a while, falling into step beside Charles.

“In the art of dark magic, yes,” he explains. “Among other things: combat, strategy, espionage… The students who survive our training go on to be some of the most elite soldiers shifter kind has ever seen. They fight our war from within the shadows, protecting their assigned packs from threats and taking on the most confidential of missions against the werebears. They’re the last line of defense against those who would wipe us out, and as such must be as ruthless and savvy as any human special ops group.”

“The students who survive?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not liking this whole, ‘survival not guaranteed’ thing, Charles. Wait, aren’t wolves at this academy immortal?”

“I never said it was easy and immortality doesn’t mean you can’t be killed or consumed by magic,” Charles replies, “or that it isn’t dangerous. The training is ruthless, and the odds of failure are high. But for once, maybe the first time in your life, you have an advantage.” He turns to me as the trees thin in front of us, the lanterns growing brighter when we round a bend. “Being an outcast may have been a weakness while you were still with your pack, Nyx. But here, it could be your greatest strength.”

He nods at the clearing in front of us, which is delineated by an enormous wall. Beyond, I can see sprawling grounds in the darkness, along with a series of stone buildings that slope up the mountainside, their windows lit up in the night like tiny stars. Dominating the landscape in the center is a castle, like the kind you might see in the Middle Ages, its turrets towering imposingly over the surrounding forest. As we approach, the wrought-iron gates at the end of the road groan open, as if of their own accord. As if they are welcoming me.

“This is it,” Charles says, and steps through. “Welcome to the Luna Wolf Academy.”

Chapter Seven

Despite my initial reluctance, I can’t help but be awestruck as I follow him through the gates, which slide shut behind us as we make our way up the sloping path to the entrance of the Academy. Other than a couple buildings on the outskirts of the grounds, the castle is the centerpiece of the area, and beyond it, I can see a lush garden, fountains, and a sprawling field in the distance whose purpose I can only guess at. All around us are more lanterns that light up the grounds like fireflies. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“This way,” Charles says, leading me up a set of ancient stone steps that end at the threshold in front of the doors. To either side of the entrance stand human-looking guards, wearing all black leather, whose expressions are stony as they keep watch for something unknown out there in the darkness. What’s strangest is that neither of them is holding any kind of weapon. Charles nods to them wordlessly and they pull open the doors, revealing an entrance hall that’s breathtakingly big. Craning my neck, I can see all the way up to the upper floors, and in the light of a massive black metal chandelier is a grand staircase leading up to a sprawling series of rooms and hallways.

“You told me this was a school, not a full-on fucking palace,” I remark.

Charles laughs. “Our Master has a flair for the ostentatious.”

“That’s kind of ironic, considering that it’s hidden from the rest of the world,” I reply as I follow him through the foyer. I’m so awestruck by it all that I almost forget why I’m here. Or the fact that, if Charles’ explanation is to be believed, he’s essentially bringing me here to train me as some kind of spy-assassin-bodyguard. But something about this whole thing is still bothering me, and it’s what prompts me to say, “You said you’ve been keeping an eye on me. How did you even know I was coming? Maybe you are a stalker.”

Charles chuckles. “I suppose you could say that, but I prefer the term ‘scout.’ My job is to monitor various packs for werewolves who are in danger of being rejected or born with potential. You’ve been on my radar for a very long time, Nyx.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter. “Glad to know I’m considered a freak even outside my pack.”

“We’re all freaks here, Nyx.” Charles turns to me as he pushes open a door. “But we’re the only thing standing between werewolves and total annihilation, so I’d say that’s a pretty good tradeoff.”

We find ourselves in a short corridor at the back of the entrance hall. At the end is a large, heavy door. It stands partially ajar, sending a shaft of light across the floor. Although they’re muffled by the door, on the other side, I can hear two voices: one male and one female. Hers is as smooth as silk, seductive as hell, whereas his is gruffer, more intense, and there’s a dark, frustrated heat behind his words.

“…don’t understand why you’re even bothering,” he’s saying. “These new recruits are as soft as they come.”

“Everyone starts out soft, Atlas,” the woman replies. “The question is whether they’re able to toughen up while they’re here. That’s where you come in.”

“You didn’t bring me here to teach,” the man growls. “You brought me here to fight.”

“And you will,” says the woman. “Hell, you’re the best student I’ve seen here in more than a decade. Do you really think I would keep you off the front lines?”

“It sure seems that way,” the male replies darkly.

I turn to Charles and raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Don’t get me wrong,” I say in a low voice, “I’m all for eavesdropping, but…”

Charles holds up a hand. “They’ll be done shortly, I’m sure.”

Piping down, I turn my attention back to the conversation happening behind the door. “Why do you think I’m putting you on training duty?” the woman is saying. “Your skills in shapeshifting and dark magic are unparalleled. Now, imagine if there weren’t just one of you, but fifty. You can whip these new cadets into shape. And considering your background…”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” the male voice snaps. “And the students don’t need to know about that, either.”

“Relax,” the woman tells him coldly. “I haven’t told them. Believe me, Atlas. You’ll get to put your power to use against the werebears in due time.”

The male scoffs. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Suddenly, the door bursts open, making me jump back a step. A man—presumably the source of the voice—comes striding out, his expression dark and frustrated. He looks like he’s in his early to mid-twenties, with a head of tousled dark hair that is falling onto his forehead and eyes so green that they shine like emeralds in the light. But the most attention-grabbing thing about him is the large, crescent-shaped scar that cuts down his left cheek. Tall and very muscular, he’s as well-built and athletic as they come… and he looks too beautiful to be real as he storms out of the office, all in black leathers like the guards. He’s a beautiful dark storm.

The stranger comes to an abrupt stop in the corridor when he notices me and Charles there, and his green eyes look me up and down, almost like he’s sizing me up. That bugs me more than it should, so when they briefly lock with mine, I don’t balk or look away, staring back at him defiantly.

The moment can’t last more than a couple of seconds, and then he’s crossing his arms and nodding brusquely to Charles, completely ignoring me. “Evening, Charles.”

“Evening, Mr. Eridani,” Charles replies with a subtle incline of his head.

His green eyes burning with anger, the male gives me one last glance before stalking past me with a growled, “Move.”

I turn to watch him disappear through the outer door before turning to Charles. “Who pissed in his cornflakes?”

Charles just gives me an “I-wish-I-knew” sort of look and beckons for me to enter the open door. We step through into a well-lit office, complete with a window that looks out onto the courtyard, where I can see a few lingering students milling about. Standing beside it is a tall, blonde-haired woman whose arms are crossed and her eyes are downcast. She’s pretty in a way that’s almost scary, and when she looks up, I can understand why.

Her eyes are completely black: no irises, no sclera, and no pupils. They look almost… well, demonic.

My blood runs cold, and I freeze dead in my tracks; I can’t help it. Charles nudges me forward, and I come to a stop on the other side of the desk, wondering whether it’s a trick of the light or the result of the dark magic he claims they all use here. “Ah, Charles,” the woman says in her silky voice, gliding across the room and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I apologize for that… unpleasantness.” She nods at the door before turning to me, a genuine smile spreading across her face. It’s still a little uncanny in contrast to her black eyes, but it’s enough to put me more at ease. “You must be Nyx.” She extends a hand to me. “I’m Alice Ombres, Master of the Academy.”

“You guys really are rolling out the welcome wagon,” I remark wryly as I shake her hand. Her skin is ice cold, like touching a piece of ice… The same kind of cold that I felt when those tendrils of dark magic picked me up outside the forest. It takes everything in my power not to shiver.

Master Ombres chuckles, letting go of my hand. “Don’t get too used to it, Miss Arcturus. Once you bind to the academy and the training starts, you’ll most likely be wondering why the hell you came here.” She turns to Charles. “I trust Mr. Haskell here has familiarized you with what we do at this school?”

“Just the basics,” I reply, “although, I have to say, I’ve got more questions than answers at this point.”

“That’s normal,” Master Ombres replies. “But I think it’s best not to bombard you with information after the day you’ve had. The most important thing for you to know is what you’ve already been told: that Wolf Witches, what you will be known as, are the last protectors of wolves everywhere. Without them, and the dark magic they wield, all packs would have been destroyed long ago. As for the rest of your questions, you’ll have your answers in due time, but tonight, you’d better focus on resting after your binding. Training starts at seven sharp, so you’ll need your energy.”

“Wait,” I protest, “you’re throwing me in the deep end tomorrow? I thought I’d at least get a day to learn the campus… And what is this binding?”

“Adaptability is one of the most important skills a Wolf Witch can learn,” Master Ombres responds. “You’ll learn as you go. You’ll have to make allies; all the other new cadets are in the same boat, and there’s strength in collaboration.”

Master Ombres answers my other question by picking up a silver dagger from the desk behind her and walking to me. “Binding is simple. You repeat what I say and cut your hand, letting your blood drop into the air. The academy is this building, and it will do the rest.”

I look between her and the dagger. The question lying in the air. “And I’ll be immortal and have to stay here? Could I leave when I wanted?”

She sighs. “There is a price for everything, Nyx. Yes, you will become immortal, and no, you won’t be able to leave until the academy allows it.”

“You allow it or the magic of this place?”

“Magic is more alive than we are, Nyx. It will decide and it has led you here. Make your choice. Bind or go home.”

I gulp and take the dagger. “I don’t have a home.”

“You will now,” she firmly replies. “We are fiercer than any pack, more loyal than mates, and stronger than any wolf could be. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

“Repeat my words,” she starts. “In the dark or light, I pledge my soul to the great magic soul of the wolves. I pledge my life to serve the magic.”

I close my eyes and repeat the words, my voice echoing around the room and the second the last word leaves my lips, I draw a line across my palm, gritting my teeth against the stinging pain. I open my eyes just in time to see a drop of my blood drip off my hand and into the air, where it hovers before bursting into a flash of light and disappears.

“Welcome,” Charles says with a smile, offering me a cloth for my hand. I press it against the cut and look at the master.

“So that’s it, then?” I ask, crossing my arms once the bleeding stops. “I’m in, just like that?”

“Just like that,” she echoes. “I’ll fill out your onboarding paperwork and get you registered. We have a dorm room already set up for you; Charles here will escort you. And Nyx,” she adds as he and I turn toward the door, “remember: failure isn’t an option.”

I know I should hold my tongue, but I can’t help myself. “No pressure or anything, right?”

That actually prompts a smile. “Good luck tomorrow, Nyx. Your first day of training is about to begin.”

Charles leads me out of the office, back to the main hall, and up the grand staircase. The male from earlier is nowhere to be seen, which might be for the best, considering his attitude. Past a series of twists and turns and up a tightly twisting spiral staircase is a tower housing the coed dorm rooms. Just beside a stained glass window overlooking the grounds is the one that’s been assigned to me. “Will you be around tomorrow?” I ask Charles as he hands me the key and with a click of his fingers, my bag appears in a puff of black smoke by my feet. Now that’s a trick I want to learn.

“I’m afraid tomorrow I will return to my scouting and observation duties,” he replies. “There are plenty of others like you, Nyx, and it’s my job to find them. Don’t worry, though,” he adds with a smile. “We’ll be seeing more of each other, I’m sure, and the Master was right. You’ll learn as you train, and you’ll find others here you can rely on. In the meantime, get some rest, and be prepared to put your body and mind to the test starting tomorrow. Your survival depends on it.”

With that, he makes his way back down the spiral stairs, pausing below to give me a wave, which I return. Thrown into the proverbial swimming pool without knowing how to swim, I’m left to do nothing but unlock my room door and walk inside. It’s tiny, which makes sense, considering the dorms are housed in the castle towers, but it’s also well-lit and neatly furnished with an ornate dresser, desk, and a canopy bed. Behind a set of heavy velvet drapes is a window that gives a stunning view of the lantern-lit campus, but it’s only as I sit heavily down on the bed that I realize just how tired I am. Physically and emotionally. Still half-wondering if this is all some crazy dream, I pull off my shoes and crawl in between the sheets, letting the canopy fall closed around me.

Starting tomorrow, I will become a Wolf Witch. If I survive, that is.

Chapter Eight

“First day?” asks the male to my right.

I turn to him and raise my eyebrow. “How’d you guess?”

He just laughs. “I know the look. Like a deer in the headlights. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“I do not look like a deer in the headlights!” I protest, even though I know he’s right. The sun has barely even come up yet and the class has already assembled: more than twenty students standing in rows in the training yard behind the castle. I feel like an idiot for missing breakfast, but I guess I was more tired than I thought last night. If the hall monitor hadn’t come banging on my door ten minutes ago, I probably would have slept right through training. I barely had time to pull on some cargo pants and a fitted sweater before I was scurrying outside, cursing under my breath.

“Whatever you say,” the male teases, and his expression tells me he doesn’t believe a word of it.

That’s enough to make even me chuckle, and my funk lifts a little. “Okay, okay. Busted.” I glance around the training yard. A pair of instructors are standing in front of the group. “So what are you in for?” I ask the male. He’s the first person who’s even bothered to talk to me since yesterday, and I can’t help thinking back to what the Master said about finding allies.

“You don’t mince words, do you?” he asks, looking at me, but then grins dryly. “I’d say I’m a pretty capable shifter. Best tracker in my pack—at least, that’s what they told me. But I guess it wasn’t enough. My girlfriend left me for another male the day before Mating Day, and I didn’t react well to the news.”

“Ouch.” I wince. Male wolves have a temper, especially about females they think are theirs. I can only imagine how he reacted to the male who took what he thought was his. “That’s rough.”

“Hey, it’s not all bad,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Top secret missions, the powers of darkness at our fingertips… I could get used to it.” Extending a hand, he says, “I’m Tobias Silver.”

“Nyx Arcturus,” I reply, shaking his hand. His grip is strong but gentle, and I take the opportunity to look at him closer; he looks like he’s about twenty. His hair is gold, a little past his jaw, and his eyes are a steely gray, and he’s as muscular and good looking as all wolves are.

“So what’s your story, Nyx Arcturus?” Tobias asks.

“Oh, you know—can’t shift, can’t find a mate, got kicked out of my pack, Charles found me. The usual.”

Tobias chuckles and it’s cute. Just like him. “I like you, Nyx,” he says. “Hopefully you’ll stick around and don’t die.”

My heart beats a little faster in my chest, and I chastise myself. You’re here to train, not find a date.

I don’t have time to beat myself up more, because that’s when one of the black-eyed instructors steps forward. He’s tall and lanky, while his companion, a woman, is smaller and curvier. They both have that same eerie look about them and the same uniform as the guards. It must be a uniform for staff and I wonder if it’s comfortable. The leather looks soft, not shiny at all, and it covers them from the neck down. “Welcome to magic training,” the man says in a smooth voice, holding up a hand to quiet the assembled students. “I hope you’ve all rested up after yesterday’s drills. Believe me, you’ll need it.” A small smile appears on his face as he surveys the students before him. “I see we have some new faces in the crowd today. Welcome.”

A murmur goes through the crowd, and I resist the urge to duck my head. I’m not going to be the odd one out again. “Those of you who are already in pairs can follow me, and we’ll begin your warm-up drills,” says the woman, nodding to her colleague. “Anyone who’s new can stay, and Magnus here will give you further instructions.”

“I guess that’s your cue,” I say to Tobias, a little regretfully.

“I guess it is,” he agrees, putting his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem too keen on leaving, either. “I’ll see you around, Nyx. Just do what they say and you’ll be alright.”

He remains long enough to give me a crooked smile before falling in with the rest of the crowd, and I watch him go for a little longer than I probably should before turning back to the instructors. The woman leads the veteran students away across the field, and I’m left to wait nervously with the other new arrivals. There are five of us, total, all looking around like lost puppies. The only other girl is a redhead with a perplexed look about her, and the other three are all boys, clustered together off to the side. I’d be willing to bet that they’re from the same pack.

“As Eiriana said, my name is Magnus,” the male instructor says as the last of the other students clear away, “and I’m one of the other dark magic teachers here. During your time at the Academy, you’ll learn the arts of combat, espionage, strategy, and negotiation, but the foundation of your studies is dark magic. I will be teaching you the basics during your daily training, but first, you will each be assigned a senior student as a mentor for your first year of training. Think of them as your guardians while you’re learning the ropes: they will guide you, protect you, and, if need be, put you down.”

Put us down? What the fuck does that mean?

“Your assigned mentors are some of the best students at the Academy,” Magnus goes on. “They have proven track records, and aren’t afraid to do what’s necessary to protect shifters.”

A stir goes through the crowd, and I follow their gazes: A cluster of older-looking students—two male and two female—is making their way across the field from the castle. They’re intimidating, I’ll give them that much, and the girl at the front, a platinum blonde bombshell with boobs up to her chin, has a queen bee vibe that I don’t like the look of. The others—a pair of sandy-haired guys and a brunette with glasses—follow along behind her.

“Ah, Addison,” Magnus says. “I see you’ve brought the others with you, but you seem to be missing someone.”

The queen bee, Addison, tosses her blonde locks over her shoulder and replies coolly, “He’ll be along. Who are these freshies?” she asks, nodding over to the rest of us.

“These ‘freshies’ are our new recruits, and you’d do well to treat them with the respect they deserve,” the brunette beside her replies, frowning.

“We’ll see if they earn it,” Addison responds coolly.

“That’s enough, Ms. Brighton,” Magnus says. “Per the Master’s instructions, you’ll be partnered up with Ivy, here.” He gestures at the confused-looking girl beside me, who stifles a wince.

“You got this,” I venture to mutter as she steps forward to join Addison.

“I’m not so sure,” she replies, giving me an uncertain smile, “but thanks.”

“As for the NyxNalty brothers, you’ll be with Nick and Steven,” Magnus goes on, directing the sandy-haired twins to two of the other guys, “and Quinn will be paired with Colton.”

The other senior students slip past me to pair with their mentees. “I feel like this whole ‘not getting picked thing’ is becoming a pattern,” I remark.

“Not to worry, Ms. Arcturus,” Magnus says, “your partner should be along any— Actually, speaking of which, here he comes now.”

I turn to see a lone figure approaching, and it’s only as they come to a stop next to Magnus that I freeze in place.

Uh oh.

He’s the male from yesterday, who I overheard arguing with Alice in her office. There’s no mistaking his muscular stature and the scar on his cheek, and I feel my chest tighten up when he gets closer.

He’s staring right at me.

“Nice of you to join us, Atlas,” Addison purrs from where she stands next to Ivy, utterly ignoring her.

“Fuck off Addison,” Atlas says, not looking away from me. His green eyes gleam like emeralds in the morning sun, and as he stalks toward me, I realize I’m in huge trouble.

My partner is the asshole from last night, and he’s devastatingly handsome.

It’s a good thing assholes aren’t my type. Still, even I have to admit he looks like he walked off a photoshoot, his dark hair tousled and his muscles defined under his t-shirt.

He sighs, looking at me from head to toe before turning to Magnus. “Really?”

“Atlas,” he warns as my cheeks burn.

Asshole. He is a total asshole.

“Are you always a dick or is it just a special attitude you save for moments like this?”

I snark back before I can hold my tongue, and immediately kick myself. Sassing my mentor isn’t a good way to start off, but I can’t seem to help it.

He scoffs, a low sound in his chest that might be a growl or a chuckle. I can’t decide which. A shiver goes up my spine, but I ignore it, taking a step to the side to put some distance between Atlas and me . Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Addison glaring daggers at me, her arms crossed over her substantial chest. Why the hell is everyone so uptight around here?

“Now that you’re in your pairs, we can get to the real training,” Magnus announces. “You’re all aware by now that you will be learning dark magic, but the first thing you need to know is where dark magic comes from. Being thrown out of your pack is what allows you to harness it, but that’s only part of the equation. You have to learn how to wield it, and in order to do that, you’ll need to be taught by someone—or something—very specific.”

Magnus closes his eyes, and all of a sudden, something starts to happen to his back. The muscles ripple, two holes tearing in the back of his shirt as out of his back sprouts a pair of leathery, bat-like wings. His nails become claws right before our eyes, and when he opens his eyes once more, I finally understand why they were jet-black.

He’s not a shifter at all.

Our teacher is a literal monster.

Chapter Nine

A murmur of fear and awe goes up among the new students, but I’m frozen still.

“I take it you’ve never seen a demon before,” Atlas says in a low voice, and I jump, turning to see him looking down at me with something that might be a smirk on his perfectly shaped lips. When did he get so close to me, anyway?

“Gee, you think?” I snipe back, acutely aware of his domineering presence over my shoulder.

He chuckles low. “Don’t worry, demons like strong students. He won’t choose to kill you.”

Asshat.

Magnus holds up his clawed hands, and we fall silent. “As you may have gathered,” he says, “I am a demon, and so are all the instructors here. We will be the ones to teach you the ways of dark magic.”

The timid-looking redhead, Ivy, raises her hand. “Does this mean we’ll learn how to, you know…” She gestures vaguely at Magnus. “Do that? Transform, like you just did?”

“No, unfortunately,” Magnus says. “Only born demons can transform. But what’s more important is your ability to, for example…” He raises his hand, and a ball of shadowy smoke shoots into the air, bursting above us into rapidly-dissipating tendrils. “Cast spells. Heal wounds. Levitate. Destroy or create. Most importantly, you’ll be able to defend your assigned packs from threats, like werebears.”

Now it’s my turn to raise my hand, and Magnus looks at me. So, I notice out of the corner of my eye, does Atlas. “Why do demons care enough about werewolves to teach us your magic?” I ask. “I mean, this isn’t your fight, right? So why bother to help shifters in the first place?”

Atlas raises an eyebrow with an amused tilt of his lips but he says nothing.

“Haven’t you ever heard not to look a gift horse in the mouth?” snaps one of the other new students. “They’re keeping us from getting wiped out. Isn’t that enough?”

“Ms. Arcturus has a point,” Magnus acknowledges, his expression darkening. “The werebears are a threat to more than just lycanthropes. They’re a threat to everything and everyone on this planet. Including, I’m afraid, demons ourselves.”

I fall silent, feeling a lump in my throat. Charles said the threat was big, but for it to be big enough to get the attention of literal demons…

“Now, if there are no more questions, I’ll get to the basics,” Magnus says. “The ability to use dark magic comes from traumatic experiences—for you all, that’s being rejected from your packs. That experience is now your power source. Whenever you cast a spell, you must draw on the memory of it in order to summon the magic. Once you’ve mastered that, it’s just a matter of telling it what you want it to do.” To illustrate, he conjures another plume of blackness, which swirls around his feet, lifting him up into the air without him so much as needing to flap his leathery wings. “Remember the feeling of the negative experience,” he urges. “Try to feel those same emotions, and then unleash them.”

He makes it sound so easy, I think.

“Go ahead and break into your partner groups,” Magnus instructs, clapping his hands together, and just like that, he’s no longer a demonic bat-person, just the same simply-dressed instructor with gleaming black eyes. “Your partners will be here to absorb any magic you unleash, and defuse you if you get out of control… or worse.”

His words send a chill up my spine, but I try not to show it, turning reluctantly to Atlas, who’s standing next to me with his muscular arms crossed. “He’s talking about us like we’re bombs,” I complain.

“You are,” is all Atlas says, and without another word, he turns and walks away toward an open area of the training field. “Untrained and useless, just like this conversation.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter. “And I’m sure all this talk of ‘putting us down’ has nothing to do with what we’re about to do here.” I’m nervous as shit, and spouting sarcasm is my way of dealing with it. It doesn’t help that my standoffish partner, aside from the scar on his cheek, looks like a literal male model, but I’m mostly just concerned with getting this right. Magnus probably has more faith in any of us new students than we ourselves do at this point.

“For such a smartass, I would’ve thought you’d figured it out by now,” Atlas growls, turning to face me as soon as we’re a safe distance away from the others.

I cross my arms. “Why don’t you enlighten me, then?”

“We’re communing with the forces of darkness,” he replies, still in that dangerous tone of his. “If you lose control, you risk losing yourself in the process. And if that happens, well…” He smiles humorlessly. “That’s where we come in.”

“So our partners are just here to take us out if we go crazy?” I snort. “That’s reassuring.”

“You know,” Atlas says, his green eyes flashing, “that attitude is only going to make me enjoy your ending.”

“Right,” I fire back, “because your opinion on my attitude is something I care about.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders, putting up his hands in preparation. “No wonder you were rejected by all the males in your pack. That mouth of yours would scare anyone off.”

His words cut deep, but I don’t let it show. “You don’t know anything.”

An odd look crosses his face then, and his eyes briefly lock with mine. “Enough stalling, Arcturus,” he says after a tense moment. “Show me what you can do.”

Oh, I’ll show you, you arrogant bastard, I think, annoyed with myself for getting so lost in his emerald gaze. Closing my eyes and trying to put the image of him out of my mind, I bring myself back to that moment in Sebastian’s cottage, when it felt like everything in my world was turned upside-down. That feeling of having the rug pulled out from underneath you is more gutting than you can imagine, and even now, as I stand in the training field, a pang of abandonment shoots up through my stomach. Instead of running away from it, though, I try to catch hold of it, hold onto it, channel it out and through my fingers like Magnus did before…

Overcome by the memory, I open my eyes.

Nothing happens. I’m just standing here across from Atlas looking like a total idiot. A blush creeps up in my ears and I clamp my eyes shut again, digging deeper this time. Not to the memory of getting cast out, but to the Mating Day ceremony, when my last chance of ever being a normal pack member went out the window in an instant. I remember the fear I felt then, the rejection…

Still nothing. Around me, I can see other newcomers doing the same thing, except they actually seem to be getting the hang of it. The males from the other pack are already volleying dark magic back and forth with their mentors, and even timid Ivy has managed to get a wisp of smoke growing out of her hands.

Once again, I’m the odd one out. Figures.

“It’s not working,” I protest, dropping my arms. “I can’t do it.”

“So that’s it?” Atlas asks, taking a step forward. “One failure and you’re just giving up?”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I retort. “You didn’t just get dumped into this like we did.”

Atlas gestures around at the others. “They seem to be handling it just fine.”

Damn him and his logic. “I should’ve just joined the circus,” I gripe, crossing my arms.

Atlas makes an annoyed sound, running a hand through his dark locks as if he’s thinking something over. Then he sighs, stalks over to me, and the next thing I know he’s standing behind me and grabbing my wrists.

“Um, excuse me, personal space,” I protest and try to pull my wrists from his hands. His skin feels hot to the touch, burning through me, and my body sparks alive in a totally different way. The amused look in his eyes tells me he is scenting the difference, and I inwardly cringe. Being attracted to your asshole instructor isn’t a good idea.

“Would you cut it out?” Atlas snaps, looking down at me. For a moment I’m tongue-tied, annoyed by how hard my heart is beating all of a sudden. “Are you going to let me help you or not?” he asks in a slightly less angry tone.

Swallowing hard, I nod and stop resisting. With surprising gentleness, he lifts my arms out the way I had them before, making an adjustment to the way I’m holding my hands. “You have to relax, Arcturus,” he instructs. “You’re holding way too much tension in your arms.”

“Are you a shifter or a physical therapist?” I quip grouchily, desperate to regain my composure.

Atlas ignores my lame attempt at a joke, continuing to hold my wrists. “Feel for the pain,” he tells me. “Don’t just remember it, experience it. Live out the dark moments. Embrace your darkness and show me what you’re made of.”

I want to tell him that’s what I’ve been trying to do, but relent, closing my eyes again and reaching for the memory once more. It’s hard to concentrate with Atlas so close behind me, but I do my best, just to get him off my back. The feeling is there, still fresh and still painful, but even now as I fumble for it, I can’t seem to translate it into power. It’s like transforming all over again, I realize—something you can’t explain, that you just have to do—and I can’t figure it out. They said being rejected was enough to harness it, so why isn’t it working? What am I doing wrong?

I don’t have time to find out, because all of a sudden, there’s a commotion from where Eiriana, the female demon, is instructing the rest of the students. The others are all running in our direction, with Eiriana at the front, her bat wings flapping as she flies over to Magnus.

Atlas drops my wrists immediately, almost like just touching me was enough to burn him, and turns away without a word to jog over to the instructors. I watch him go for a moment, frowning, and then trail along after the others. Addison ditches Ivy to follow Atlas, and I fall into step next to the petite redhead. She’s pretty in a cute way, with brown eyes and wavy hair cut in a bob. “Hey,” I say, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Hey,” she says, smiling a little. “It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“The dark magic?” I snort. “That’s an understatement. I can’t make it work to save my life.” I nod in Addison’s direction. “So is she nicer than she looks, or…?”

Ivy grimaces. “Not really. Maybe she’ll get better with time.”

“For whatever it’s worth, neither is he,” I say, scowling at Atlas’ turned back and pushing the memory of his hands on my wrists away.

By now we’ve come to a stop in front of the instructors, who are talking heatedly in low voices. A shaken-looking student is standing beside Eiriana, and in the crowd, I catch a glimpse of Tobias, who smiles when he sees me. I smile back, giving him a wave. It’s nice to see a friendly face after being subjected to Atlas and his dickishness for so long.

“Any idea what’s going on?” Ivy asks nervously.

“None whatsoever,” I reply, “but it looks like we’re about to find out.”

The instructors are following the upset student toward the outskirts of the training grounds, where the edge of the forest starts. The senior students, Atlas among them, are close behind. “Apologies to everyone,” Magnus says, turning around to address the rest of us. “I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of a situation. Please remain calm and allow us to sort this out.”

Although Eiriana is trying to keep the others from following, nobody seems to listen, and the majority of the flock of students follows along behind the others toward the trees. Ivy and I exchange a look, I shrug my shoulders, and we join the crowd. Almost as soon as we step through the trees, I suck in a breath, stopping dead in my tracks. Next to me, Ivy gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. What I’m seeing is enough to even make me forget my utter failure during our first training session.

Just beyond the tree line, before the forest gets dense and dark, is a dead wolf.

Chapter Ten

There’s a moment of silence before all hell breaks loose. Voices erupt around me, everyone speaking up at once to ask questions nobody has the answers for.

“Is that?”

“I think it’s Regina.”

“Are you blind? That’s Seth!”

“What’s he doing here? He was supposed to be protecting the pack!”

“Is he alive?”

“What do you think, genius?”

“Everyone, step back!” Eiriana commands, extending her arms. That does the trick, and all though the hushed murmurs continue, the group takes a collective step away from the body.

Magnus kneels down beside the fallen shifter to examine him. One look is enough to tell me everything I need to know: he’s dead, and probably has been for a long time, considering how the blood is drying up on his matted white fur. He’s been completely mauled, three enormous gashes ripping down his body from his neck to his tail. Bite marks from massive sets of jaws cover the rest of him, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who—or what—could have done this.

“This was clearly a werebear attack,” Magnus announces, shaking his head in dismay.

That stirs up the crowd all over again. “Is it nearby?” Ivy asks, her eyes widening. “Has it gotten past the barrier?”

Magnus looks around, his black eyes flickering as he analyzes the magic surrounding the school grounds. “The fear spell is still intact,” he says. “The werebear that did this is likely on the other side of the barrier.” His eyes drop back to the dead shifter. “He must have been on his way back here to get help when he bled out.”

“So he’s one of ours, then?” asks Eiriana, putting her hands on her hips. “Only a Wolf Witch would know the dark magic to get through the fear spell.”

Magnus nods somberly. “It’s Seth. Seth Guire.”

A fresh wave of agitation goes up in the crowd, along with a couple cries of dismay. Whoever this male was, it’s clear no one was expecting this. “Who was Seth Guire?” I whisper to Ivy.

She shakes her head. “I have no idea.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Atlas, who’s standing a ways away from the rest of the group, seething. His muscular shoulders are hunched, his arms crossed tensely over his chest as he stares down at the body with fire in his eyes. Fire… and pain.

Addison hurries over to him, placing a hand on his arm, and amidst the chatter, I overhear her murmur, “It’s all right.”

Atlas shakes her hand off. “What about any of this is ‘all right,’ Addison?” he growls, and without another word, he turns and stalks off in the direction of the forest.

So much for helping me with the magic, I think glumly, watching as Addison hurries after him. Maybe it’s for the best. The feeling of his hands on my wrists was a little too exciting for my comfort level.

“Magnus and I will bring the body inside for further examination,” Eiriana announces, turning back to the rest of us. “As he said, the dark magic fear barrier is intact, so there’s no need to panic. Whatever the threat is, it’s outside school grounds. Nevertheless,” she continues, “we will need to take this up with the Master. Class is dismissed for today. New students, stick with your mentors, and let this be a reminder to everyone never to leave campus without supervision.”

With that, she turns back to Magnus and Seth’s body, and the rest of the students immediately begin to disperse, their fear palpable in the chilly air.

I turn to Ivy and grimace. “It appears our mentors have vanished.”

Ivy sighs and runs a hand through her red hair. “I would suggest we go get something to eat, but I don’t even know where the dining hall is. I was hoping Addison would show me, but…” She shrugs. “No such luck.”

“I guess we’re in the same boat,” I reply. “Come on—let’s go scope it out. Now’s our chance to explore a bit.”

We head back through the trees and across the training yard, and I’m secretly grateful that I won’t have to keep embarrassing myself with my failed magic today. That’s an issue for tomorrow, I guess. We’re on our way back toward the entrance when I spot Tobias approaching me with his hands in his pockets. “Hey,” I say, turning to him with a relieved smile. “That was something, wasn’t it?”

“Damn right,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “I can’t say that’s happened before, at least since I got here.” He turns to Ivy and smiles, extending his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“This is Tobias,” I introduce them. “Tobias, this is Ivy. Both our mentors ditched us, so…”

“Ouch,” he says. “Well, I was thinking of getting a late breakfast, if you guys want to join me.”

I grin. “Great minds think alike, right?” I gesture at the castle. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“So what’s your story?” I ask Ivy.

She, Tobias, and I are sitting at one of the ornate wooden tables in the dining hall, which is lit up by sunshine streaming in through the enormous paned windows. There are a few other students from today’s class meandering around, but thankfully, it’s not overly-crowded. Tobias is watching me as he eats his breakfast, and the three of us have lapsed into easy conversation.

Ivy gives us a melancholy smile. “Believe it or not, there’s nothing really wrong with my shifting abilities, and I actually do have a mate, but…”

“But...?” I prompt.

Ivy sighs. “She’s human.”

“Shit.” Tobias raises his eyebrows. “I’m guessing they weren’t too pleased with that.”

“The fact that she’s a girl wouldn’t have been an issue, but the traditions dictate we can never have relationships with humans,” Ivy replies. “So… Here I am. I broke the rules, and they threw me out for it.” She stirs her coffee.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and mean it. “I’m willing to bet the traditions are why so many of us are here in the first place. A bunch of outdated bullshit, if you ask me. But at least you can shift,” I point out. “And you were already getting the hang of the magic back there.” I glare into my cereal bowl. “Given the way it’s been going for me so far, I’d be surprised if I even become a Wolf Witch.”

“Hey.” Tobias nudges me playfully. “You should’ve seen me on my first day. I was hopeless. But I made it through my first year. You’ll get there too, Nyx. There’s a learning curve.”

His smile is so contagious that I can’t help grinning back. “You know, when you say it like that, I almost believe it.”

“Speaking of which,” Ivy says, sitting up in her chair, “this whole business has gotten me wondering—if there’s such a thing as dark magic, doesn’t that mean there’s such a thing as…”

“Light magic?” Tobias’ expression turns thoughtful. “You know, I’ve wondered the same thing. I asked one of the instructors about it here once and he said that in theory, it exists, but in practice, it might as well be a myth.”

“How come?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

“I mean, it makes sense when you think about it,” Tobias replies. “If demons are the source of dark magic, then angels must be the source of light magic. Except nobody’s seen an angel in hundreds of years. If they exist, they’re sure as hell keeping it to themselves.”

Movement at the far end of the room catches our eyes, and I look up to see Atlas striding quickly down the hall with an unreadable expression on his face. He must have noticed me staring, because he glances up just in time for our eyes to connect from across the room. Blushing, I glance quickly away as he walks out the opposite door and disappears into the hallway.

“What was that about?” asks Tobias, looking slightly put off.

“No idea,” I says. “He’s supposed to be my mentor, but so far he seems more interested in brooding.”

Tobias’ eyebrows shoot up. “Atlas is your mentor?”

“Yeah,” I say uncertainly. “Why?”

“Well, for one thing, he’s the biggest asshole in this school,” Tobias says, crossing his arms.

“I can agree with you on that,” I say, but can’t quite shake the color that’s crept onto my cheeks.

That seems to put Tobias more at ease, and he chuckles. “Glad you agree. It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. I’m sorry you’re stuck with him as a partner, though. Any idea how he reacted to Seth’s death?”

“He seemed like he was taking it pretty hard,” I say.

“I guess that figures,” Tobias says, stealing an unimpressed glance in the direction Atlas stalked off.

“Why?” I ask, looking from him to Ivy, who’s been listening to the exchange with wide eyes.

Tobias turns back to me. “You don’t know?” he asks, surprised.

“Know what?”

“You know the Blood Moon Pack, the pack Seth was assigned to protect as a Wolf Witch?” Tobias asks. When Ivy and I nod, he goes on. “Atlas’ father is the alpha.”

That stuns me into silence, and my eyes go wide. “So you’re saying… Atlas is going to be the next alpha?”

“Was,” Tobias corrects. “He would’ve been, if he hadn’t been rejected by his pack.”

“Jeez,” Ivy says. “Any idea why he was kicked out?”

“None whatsoever,” Tobias replies, “and to be honest, I’m not sure I want to know. I’ve seen him shift before so all I know is it’s not that. But anyone around here can tell you Atlas isn’t good company.”

I swallow hard, churning with confusion. To cast out the son of the alpha is unheard of, especially when they’re next in line to lead their pack. Whatever Atlas did to get himself kicked out, it must have been bad… and now he’s been assigned as my mentor. “Thanks for the heads up,” I say at last, although on the inside I’m still reeling, remembering what happened when we were doing the practice drill.

As if my problems weren’t big enough already… And, as it turns out, they’re about to get bigger.

Chapter Eleven

Tobias, Ivy and I stick together over the next few hours, and he spends his afternoon showing the two of us around the campus. Something about him puts me at ease, and his friendliness is undeniable, a refreshing change of pace. As he shows us the infirmary, the meeting room, and the complicated maze of corridors, libraries, and classrooms, I occasionally feel his gray eyes on me. All I can do is try to tell myself it doesn’t mean anything; he’s just being friendly. It’s not like I have much going for me, anyway. Meanwhile, Ivy continues to open up, and the relief at having found friends already is undeniable, especially after my conversation with the Master.

The outstanding issue, of course, is Atlas. I can’t seem to figure him out, not even now that I know more about his background. One thing is for sure, though: If he’s the son of an alpha, he must think I’m totally incompetent, which means I’m probably fucked. I can’t even manage to summon dark magic, let alone bend it to my will the way the other students are already learning.

Just take it one day at a time, I remind myself after dinner as I enter the training floor on the basement level beneath the castle for our afternoon lesson. Like Tobias said, you’ll get the hang of it sooner or later. As today’s combat training kicks off, however, I’m having a hard time following my own advice.

All around me are other recruits, not just my fellow newbies, and the ones who no longer need mentors have paired off with one another for combat practice.

At the front of the room is Oscar, one of the few non-demon instructors at the Academy according to Tobias. He’s been a Wolf Witch for a thousand years, older than anyone else here apparently, and his drill sergeant attitude makes him almost as intimidating as Atlas himself. Emphasis on almost… which brings me to why combat training is my least favorite class of them all, even more so than dark magic training. Can you blame me, considering I have to spend an hour a day in even closer quarters with him than outside in the training yard? I can’t even figure out what his problem is, let alone try to wrap my head around scuffling with a guy like him.

Ivy and I keep shooting each other pitying looks from where we’re seated, not even that is enough to quell my nervousness as we wait for the lesson to begin.

“Remember,” Oscar barks from the front of the room, “your goal is to get your opponent underneath you so you can disarm or, if need be, kill. Don’t give them an opening, and I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’ve done the practice drills, so I expect you to understand the concepts. I’ll be watching.” Practice drills? When?

The rest of the students immediately jump in, but I linger on the edge of my mat, staring at Atlas. He looks grumpier than this morning… which is to be expected but makes me nervous.

“Waiting for something, Arcturus?” he asks in a low voice. He’s leaning back on his haunches, his muscled arms supporting himself with poised ease, ready to spring. Meanwhile, I’m sitting on my ass like a potato, trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.

“Some idea what I’m doing, I guess,” I grumble.

Atlas’ eyes flash as they bore into mine. “Let me give you a hint,” he says, and the next thing I know he’s darting forward, seizing me by the shoulders and levering me onto the mat. Despite the swiftness of the movement, I notice that he’s surprisingly controlled, ensuring that I don’t get hurt even when my back connects with the mat.

“What the hell was that?” I demand, embarrassed, as I sit up.

“A takedown,” Atlas says. “If I were a werebear, you’d be dead right now.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter, putting up my hands as I try to remember what Oscar said to me this morning on the way here: Get out of the way, find an opening, pin your opponent. He made it sound so simple.

Licking my lips, I lunge forward, trying to get in close enough to strike. Atlas smoothly ducks out of the way, sending me reeling off balance. “You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he tells me.

Gritting my teeth, I try again, going high this time, only for him to use my own weight against me and tip me backward. Thinking fast, I get my arm around his neck, but Atlas twists free of my grip, turning me around and pinning me beneath him. His arms support him firmly on either side of my face, keeping me from getting crushed by his body weight, but that does nothing to stop me sucking in a breath. He’s so close I can feel the heat of his body, his pelvis hovering just above mine, and for a moment, I’m stuck staring into the contours of his sculpted face. “Are you always this flustered?” he asks in a low voice.

Aaaaand, just like that, the spell is broken. Scowling, I fire back, “Are you always this much of an asshole?”

Atlas’ expression hardens as he shifts off of me. “You’re telegraphing your moves before you make them. Is this what they teach at your old pack? How to be useless?” he says, and my cheeks burn. I was never good at training in school. I failed every class. “Go again.”

His abruptness just makes me bristle more, but I catch a glimpse of Oscar making the rounds through the wrestling students and grudgingly try again, circling the outside of the mat. Before I can make a move, he grabs my wrists and—again, surprisingly gently—repositions my hands. “You have to protect your face,” he reiterates. “Are you trying to end up with a broken nose?”

“Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it?” I demand, feigning left and striking right.

Atlas blocks the punch, moving in to get me in a wrist lock, but I’m pissed enough now that I dodge, fueled by my frustration. It’s bad enough that I can’t even cast a damn spell; now I can’t even take down this stupid handsome bastard.

My sudden speed seems to catch him off-guard, and for a moment he looks almost impressed. “I don’t believe in mentorship, and it’s a waste of my time when I can be doing other things,” he says.

I lunge in again. “Because you’re too good for us freshies, is that it?”

He scowls, effortlessly blocking me once more. “You’re telegraphing again.”

“How is it a waste of time?” I ask, dodging his lunge.

I could swear I almost see the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Do you always ask this many questions when you’re supposed to be working?”

I give him a determined grin. “Maybe I’m just trying to distract you.”

Atlas eyes me for a moment, something unreadable passing over his face. “It’s working,” he grunts, still with that same almost smile.

I’m stunned, and as I puzzle over what he means, he takes the opportunity to pin me again in a half guard. Shit. “You’re losing focus, Arcturus. Concentrate.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I insist, using my free knee to push him off. Am I actually starting to get the hang of this? “I thought the one thing shifters could all agree on was that we need to take down the werebears.”

“What we need,” Atlas argues, pulling back long enough to give me an opening, “is for fully-fledged Wolf Witches to be taking action against the werebears, not babysitting a bunch of amateurs.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I beg to differ,” Atlas replies, twisting out of the way and watching as I lose my balance. If I had rolled a split second later, he would have pinned me again.

Determined not to let him best me, I press my lips together as I scramble upright. “I had enough of that back in my pack,” I retort. “My alpha fought enough of my battles for me then. I don’t want to let other people pick up my slack here, too.”

Atlas raises his eyebrows. “You really mean that,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s asking a question or not.

I nod, my expression somber. “And you would too, if you were as useless as I am.”

He seems a little surprised, which I use to my advantage, closing in on him with a low enough stance to keep from getting leveled again. He’s way bigger than me, and stronger, and I’m not delusional enough to think I can flip him the way he did me, but as we lock together on the mat, shifting and weaving like a pair of dueling panthers, I’m starting to understand how the others do it.

I guess if you get riled up enough, anything is possible.

My confidence doesn’t last long, because as we square off, our hands balled in each other’s shirts in an effort to gain control, our cheeks are nearly pressing together. It’s as much a dance as it is a fight, and for an absurd moment I wonder if he can tell how quickly my heart is beating. Any second now, he’s going to realize that I have no idea what I’m doing.

Actually, scratch that—he’s known that since day one.

“That’s not the word I would use.” Atlas’ husky voice stirs the hair around my ear, sending a shiver up my spine, and I freeze up for a second. Not wasting his chance, he gets a leg between mine, making my cheeks flame bright red, and starts another takedown—but I’m not about to let this stick in the mud see that he made me blush. Thinking fast, I brace my heel against the mat, allowing him to push me back, but just enough to upset his center of gravity. With my free leg, I leverage myself up and over, his body suddenly ending up underneath mine. The next thing I know, I’m straddling him in a full guard, my hands dropping to his toned chest in an attempt to steady myself.

For a moment, neither of us says anything, each breathing hard as we try to process what just happened. Realizing I’m still touching his chest, I jerk back like I just touched a hot stove and scramble off him, avoiding eye contact.

Rolling easily to his feet, Atlas extends a hand to me, his expression stoic. “Not bad, Arcturus,” he says.

“Something tells me that’s the closest thing I’m going to get to a compliment from you,” I mutter, shoving away my embarrassment as I let him pull me to my feet. Now it’s his turn to pull back like he just touched something hot, his heavy brows furrowing as he stares down at me.

“What?” I demand, crossing my arms self-consciously. It’s not until I follow his gaze that I realize we’re being watched—by Tobias, who’s on his feet, brushing his blond locks from his eyes, and by Addison, whose lips are twisted in a disgusted sneer.

By the time I look back at Atlas, he’s already turned away.

The lesson ends quickly after that, and I barely noticed two hours had passed until Atlas is walking away without so much as a goodbye. Ivy walks with me back to my room and is quiet until we are alone. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to make eyes at the dark, brooding wolf who looks like a god?”

I laugh. “No, but that is good advice.”

“He’ll break your heart, Nyx,” she softly warns as we stop outside my room. My aching legs and arms want nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep. And sleep some more.

“I’m not going to fall for him. I’ve known him a day or so, and I don’t believe in love or fate,” I say.

“What about fated mates?” she questions. “Wolves that are intensely attracted to each other and it’s impossible to avoid or fight? Alpha’s always have fated mates. Some of the older packs, like where he came from have ceremonies to find—”

“And they are rarer than falling stars,” I tell her, cutting her off. Fated mates are fairy tales, pure and simple. There were none in my pack, not even my parents. They loved each other anyway. Love is stronger than fate, at least I think so. “Goodnight and thank you for caring.”

She shrugs. “It’s good to have a friend.”

I watch her go, running her words of warning over and over in my mind. Fated mates? That’s crazy. It’s just a crush. Once I’ve gotten used to how attractive he is, it won’t be such a shock.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts as I head up to my dorm that I don’t realize someone is waiting outside my door until it’s too late. I come to an abrupt stop, my heart leaping into my throat when I step into the lamplight on the threshold.

Addison is standing there, her hands on her hips and her blonde hair thrown over her shoulder. “Nyx Arcturus, isn’t it?” she asks in a cold tone of voice but doesn’t give me time to respond. “We need to talk.”

Chapter Twelve

I stare at her in disbelief, not liking the way she’s looking at me: like I’m a cockroach or some other disgusting thing she just stepped in. What the hell could she possibly want from me, anyway? Deciding to play it cool, I clear my throat and ask, “Can I help you with something?”

She snorts, the corner of her mouth twitching in a sneer. “Help me? That’s a laugh. No, you can’t help me, Nyx; I don’t need your help.”

I can feel my hackles going up, but the last thing I need is to let my mouth get away from me with a senior student. Biting the inside of my lip, I reply, “Then I guess I’m gonna have to ask you to excuse me. It’s late, and I’m still getting used to these hours.”

Hoping that will do the trick, I move to slide past her, but she steps easily to the left, blocking my path. “Are you seriously playing coy now?” Addison demands, crossing her arms. “You must think I’m completely stupid.” The aggression in her voice is enough to give me pause, and when I look up, I see nothing but contempt in her blue eyes.

You know what? Fuck playing it cool. “No,” I reply, crossing my own arms, “but right now I’m thinking you’re completely rude. How’s that?”

Her lips pull back from her teeth. “You think you’re hot shit, right? The new recruit with an attitude who can get whatever she wants from the people in this place.”

“What the hell are you on about?” I demand, throwing up my hands. “I’ve done nothing to you!”

Addison doesn’t reply. “I guess I should’ve figured you’d jump at the opportunity to find your next catch,” she muses. “I know all about girls like you.”

“Girls ‘like me?’ ” I ask, incredulous.

“You heard me,” she responds. “You think getting into the Wolf Witch Academy makes you somebody when you’re really nobody. A reject, just like the rest of us. So you parade around and act like you’re god’s gift to shifters. To the guys, especially.”

“The guys?” I demand. “Addison, I legitimately have no idea what you’re—” My mind goes to the way she talked to Atlas earlier, and the way she trailed after him when the body was found. “Wait a minute, is this about Atlas?”

Addison rolls her eyes. “Are you legitimately this dense, or are you just playing dumb?”

I take a step back. “Look, Addison, I don’t know what your problem is with Atlas, but that’s between the two of you. Can you leave my room?”

“You’re my problem,” she says coldly.

And then I understand. The dirty looks she’s always shooting me during class, the way she’s constantly brushing past me in the hallway…

I start to laugh. “Addison, you’ve got to be kidding me. There is nothing going on between me and Atlas.” Between his bad attitude and his merciless instructions, the idea is utterly ridiculous… right? “I’ve known him a day and none of our conversations have been anywhere nice.”

That just seems to make her angrier. “Oh please,” she says. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ve seen the way he looks at you during class, and now, today, you can’t keep your hands off him during combat training. You really can’t leave well enough alone, can you? Hell, you’ve already got Tobias wrapped around your finger. I guess he wasn’t enough for you. One day and you’ve spelled them both.”

Tobias? Atlas? My head is spinning in confusion. If she seriously thinks either of these guys is interested in me, she must be crazier than I thought. Tobias is a nice male, and I guess someone might misinterpret the way he talks to me sometimes, but Atlas? He can’t seem to think of a nice thing to say to me if his life depended on it. Why on earth would she think…?

“I don’t share,” Allison adds, taking a menacing step toward me. “And believe me when I say, I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect what’s mine.”

I curl my hands into fists. I was already riled up from the confrontation, but these ridiculous allegations aren’t doing anything good for my state of mind. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, and then, just to get under her skin, I add, “and even if there were something going on, it wouldn’t be any of your damn business.”

Once more I try to move past her, but again she blocks my way. “It’s my damn business,” she hisses, “when you’re moving in on my boyfriend.”

There’s a flash of pure crazy in her eyes, and it dawns on me that we’re utterly alone in my room. If she shifted—or worse, used dark magic on me—I would be completely defenseless.

I take a step back, ready to call for help, when a new voice rings out in the empty space behind me, my door still open. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Whirling around, my heart leaps in my chest when I see Atlas standing at the other side of the corridor. His muscular arms are crossed, and I can’t help but notice the way his green eyes seem to burn in the low light as they lock with mine. Something unspoken passes between us then, and his expression softens in that moment—just a little, like he’s embarrassed that I had to hear those words come out of his mouth.

A shiver goes up my spine.

Addison’s entire demeanor seems to change in a blink. “Babe,” she says, stepping out of my room and moving toward him.

I could disappear into my room if I wanted and leave them to… whatever this is. After all, it really is none of my business. But something stops me, and instead I hang in the shadows by my door. I tell myself it’s because Addison is clearly crazy, but that doesn’t hold up. Atlas can obviously handle himself, and it’s not like there’s much I can do. No, the real reason is that I can’t wrap my head around how someone like him could have ever been the boyfriend of someone like her.

Stop it, I scold myself. You don’t even know him. And you don’t want to. He’s trouble—Tobias told you that much.

But still I don’t move.

“I didn’t know you were there,” Addison croons, reaching out to touch Atlas’ arm with her manicured hand. “Babe, what’s the matter?”

Atlas pulls away from her touch. “Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to call you?” Addison asks coyly, batting her eyelashes.

“Addison,” he growls, “I’ve told you before, we’re done. You can drop the act.”

“Come on, Atlas,” she protests. “Don’t be like that. You and me? We’re it. You know that.”

“That’s not true,” Atlas fires back. “We were never it, Addison.”

“Babe—Atlas…”

But Atlas isn’t listening; his eyes have snapped up to where I’m standing, his expression unreadable. I guess my eavesdropping wasn’t so stealthy after all. I feel something: the brush of cold shadow made fingers on my wrist, which sends goosebumps trailing all the way up my arm. The moment of contact is so brief that I can’t even be sure if I imagined it or not, but as I glance down, there are shadows disappearing before my eyes. All I know is that suddenly I want to get as far away from those two as I possibly can. I don’t even dare to turn around and look back. My head is already messed up enough, and I want to shut my door on them both.

So I do. My room feels less safe now that I know Addison has been in here, and I sit on my bed, burying my head in my hands.

“Hey.”

The sound of his voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin, and I look up to see Atlas standing in the corner of my small room, shadows like smoke around him. I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Uh… hey.” Hands in his pockets, Atlas walks forward like he owns my room, his expression guarded. Suddenly embarrassed, I resort to my usual defense mechanism. “How did you get in here?”

He smirks and pauses in my room, glancing around, his tone nothing but sarcastic. “Dark magic.”

“Funny,” I deadpan. “Look, if you’re about to give me shit or whatever, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not,” he says, his eyes flashing, and then he shakes his head. “I felt like seeing how your first day went.”

I shrug evasively. “It was fine.”

Atlas moves to sit next to me on my bed. The room seems so much smaller when he is this close to me, the shadows that much darker, his presence all I can focus on. “You need to watch your back.” He sighs. “Addison has… issues.”

“She doesn’t have anything to worry about,” I mutter dryly, my eyes fixed forward.

Atlas leans closer, and my breath hitches. I’m expecting him to make a nasty retort but what comes out of his handsome mouth is worse. “Oh, she does.”

I dare to look up at him. His expression is contemplative, and in the stillness, I’m able to take in his sculpted features more clearly, my eyes drifting to the crescent-shaped scar on his cheek. Where did it come from, I wonder? I know nothing much about this wolf on my bed, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that he is attracted to me.

“She doesn’t,” I firmly say, standing up. “You should go.”

His smile is downright wicked as he leans back on my bed, his arms crossed behind his head. “No, I don’t think I will. We have things to talk about.”

I cross my arms. “Like what?”

There is an amused glint in his eyes as he looks me up and down. “You. You’re a problem, especially when you can’t do magic for shit.”

I relax a little bit. “It’s been one day. I’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But I could privately help you, help you get stronger so you don’t die on day two. In exchange for something, of course.”

“For what?” I bite out.

He climbs off my bed in one smooth movement, stopping right in front of me. I step back, my back hitting the wall, and he follows me, placing his hands on either side of my head before he leans down. This close, I can’t ignore his scent, a mixture of berries and frosty winter nights by the fire. “You. I want to own you, for now at least.”

I glare up at him. “I’m not sleeping with you—”

He laughs. “I don’t want sex, not unless you beg me, which you will. No, I want you to pretend to be mine. In public.”

I furrow my eyebrows, watching him closely. This doesn’t feel fake, not like he is suggesting. Pretending to be with him would be pure torture for us both. “Why would you want that?”

“My father wants me to find a mate, and he is getting on my nerves,” he says. Honest answer, I think, but there is something off about it. It makes sense, but…

“Why me?”

He grins, moving his face closer to mine. “I need someone who could never be my mate.”

I shove the hurt from that comment deep down and gulp. “I don’t—”

“You will die when you face the other students in class in the upcoming week without my help. Your choice, doll,” he says but he doesn’t move, doesn’t take his eyes off me. We stare each other down as I think about it, about how he could be telling me the truth and a fake relationship would be just that: fake.

I can do this. I think. The truth is, I am struggling, and I refuse to die in this place, another nobody. I want to go back to my pack as a wolf-witch, show them that I am not weak and they made a big mistake. If this is the price I have to pay, then dammit, I will pay it.

“Fine. You have a deal but it’s—”

He kisses me, stopping every word from leaving my mouth, stopping every thought until I can feel nothing but the demanding pressure of his lips on mine, his tongue slipping into my own mouth and his masculine groan that echoes around my small room. His hard body presses against mine, a pang of desire flashing through me, right before he pulls back and steps away.

His eyes flash with darkness, shadows flickering around him as he watches me. He slowly runs his finger across his bottom lip, and I trace every tiny movement.

“What the hell?” I breathlessly mutter, willing my heart to slow down.

“You have my scent on you now, and our first kiss shouldn’t be in front of everyone. I want that for myself. See you around, doll.”

Atlas disappears into shadows, leaving me a mess of emotions and wondering what the hell I just signed up for.

Chapter Thirteen

I can’t help the yawn that escapes my mouth as I walk through the gardens and into the thick forest outside of the academy, the tall trees towering over me like guards watching over the sleeping trees. The long branches cast deep shadows onto the ground as leaves crunch beneath my boots with every step I take. It’s crisp as a morning should be before the sun rises to warm the forest. I stand in the dim darkness, my shifter blood letting me see better than any human could in this forest.

Atlas is late.

I glance at my phone, which has no signal as usual in this place, and see it’s ten minutes past five in the morning.

I bet the bastard has forgotten about me. I grit my teeth as I look around at the many, many shadows hidden in the forest, luring with silent words. Part of me should feel scared, but I grew up in forests just like these and they have always been my home, a place that I feel safe. Forests are easy to hide in, the dozens of games of hide and seek with Claire flashing through my mind. I miss my family so much. Truthfully, I even miss my Pack. They may have treated me like utter shit under their boots at times, like I was no one and nothing because I couldn’t shift, but they were still my home. Still my family. I just didn’t have a place there, and when I’m done with the academy, I will. It’s a beautiful building, I think as I look up. I’ve only really seen buildings like that in the history books, human history books. There are few history books on our kind, so we learn human history as we grow, even when we’ve not much been in the human world ourselves. I look up through the trees at the academy castle, its high walls towering over me, the spiraling towers so graceful and immortal to time.

Just like I am now. Frozen like this, forever. I wonder for a moment how old Atlas actually is, seeing that he is immortal.

The branch crackles behind me, and I swiftly turn to see Atlas appearing out of the shadows, the darkness bending around him to his will. He’s still pulling a shirt on, leaving me with a clear view of his amazing abs before the shirt falls down and he runs his fingers through his dark hair. His smoldering eyes lock on me like the predator that he is.

He smirks, running his gaze over my dark leggings, white shirt tucked into it and blazer hanging down to my waist. All of it has the academy symbol on it, and I found this lot in one of the drawers. “I hope you didn’t have any breakfast this morning.”

“Good morning, Atlas. You’re late,” I snark, placing my hands on my hips.

His smirk only spreads as he tucks his hands in his pockets and leans his shoulder against a tree. “If you want to know why I was late… I was in the shower, thinking about our kiss. I could tell you exactly—”

My cheeks burn as I cut him off. “Enough. There is no one here for you to convince that our thing is real.”

His laugh is wicked. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you, Nyx.”

The way he says my name makes me shiver from head to toe. He leans up off the tree, all the playfulness gone from his expression. “No breakfast before our training. I really don’t want to see you throw up that toast you’ve eaten. I can scent it on you.”

I nod, still thinking about him in the shower, thinking about our kiss. Was that real? I don’t know. It can’t be real. He hates me, and I highly dislike him.

That’s all there is between us. Hate and a deal involving fake kisses.

Atlas slowly walks around me, looking me up and down. There is no hiding the clear distaste for what he sees. “You’re weaker than my brother’s pet cat. We run two hours every morning to build up strength. That will get us to seven o’clock in the morning and then between seven and eight, we will work with darkness. You need to learn to be in the dark to be able to embrace it.”

I grit my teeth. “I want magic training, not core strength training.”

I did enough of that when I was in the pack. Running is for crazy people.

“To harness magic, you need to be in good shape. You’re not.”

“Because I have curves? I’m not like the rest of the girls who are stick thin, but—”

His hand falls on my shoulder, softly running down my arm as he cuts me off. “Your curves make you sexy, doll. Don’t insult them. I like looking at them too much.”

I hate that he just said the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, and it’s all fake. “I’ll run on one condition.”

“I don’t make deals, Nyx,” he all but growls. “You will run or I’ll make you.”

“Bite me,” I angrily snap.

“Don’t tempt me into something I’ve already thought about,” he counters, his eyes filled with amusement and a flash of desire.

Gods. This male.

Part of me, a deep part of me that is pushed far down, senses alpha in him in that look, the look he gives me with those iridescent eyes, which would make most wolves tremble. I hold my head high, never backing down, and he smirks. I almost love the look of shock he gets when he understands that I’m not going to back down before he inclines his head. “Interesting, doll.”

“I know I am, Atlas.” I clear my throat, shaking off whatever that was. His eyes flicker to my lips for a second before he turns away, running his hand through his hair. I wonder if he is thinking about the kiss like I am. I remember that kiss. I think I always will. I’ve run it over in my mind, like I have done all night. Truthfully, before my alarm clock even went off, I was thinking about that kiss. I’ve never been kissed like that.

Kissing your fake boyfriend should be banned when he can kiss like that.

He is going to ruin me for all other males at this rate.

I can’t give him any more of me or there might be nothing left when he is gone.

Atlas turns and walks up to me, and despite every instinct, I stand my ground.

He leans in, whispering in my ear. “Run, doll.”

I turn my head toward him, meeting his gaze. We are so close, a breath away and the air feels electric. “I want to know how to use dark magic, Atlas.”

“This is going to be painful for you to learn like it was for me, because the truth is,” he leans back, placing one finger underneath my chin and tilts my head up. I’m looking up his six foot tall frame and never in my life have I felt as small as I do right in this second. “I let the darkness in before I ever came to the academy. It is part of me now, as are the shadows. I embraced it. I became it. I trained my body to become fluid with the shadows around me.”

“Why would you do that before you came here?” I question. “You’re the alpha heir, beloved by your pack. You would have been treasured.”

His eyes never leave mine. “Just because something is meant to be done a certain way, it does not mean it was. My past is complicated and being an alpha heir doesn’t mean you’re treated well.”

“It should,” I breathe out.

“Your power comes from here,” he places his hand over his chest, above his heart. “Your heart and your soul, and you need to learn this to do any dark magic. My soul is flooded in darkness and therefore it’s easy for me. It’s like breathing. You are a rejected wolf. Everyone abandoned you. You can find the darkness too.”

I know his words aren’t meant to hurt me, but they do because he is right. I was rejected by everyone… everyone gave up on me.

Except him.

Atlas chose me, and I don’t think he has a clue how grateful I truly am for that choice. I needed someone to choose me for anything. Even a fake relationship.

I’ve spent my life never being chosen for anything.

He steps back. “Now run, doll.”

I look at him one more time before I do as he asked, ignoring the male satisfaction I see on his stupidly pretty face that he has won this little battle. I run down the pathway between the trees, Atlas following my brisk pace for a few minutes before I feel a stinging pain lash across my ass. I pause, spinning around and glaring at him. Atlas proudly stands in the path, holding something like a whip made of pure shadows. It slowly disappears back into his hand. “You just whipped me with shadows.”

“Do you want a point for explaining the obvious?”

I blow out a breath, full of anger, as I try to calm down. “Why?”

He smirks. “You weren’t exactly running. You were walking, slowly.”

“I was setting a good pace!” I bite out.

He levels me a stare that suggests he doesn’t give a shit. “I’m going to whip that very perfect ass of yours until you run faster. We don’t have all day.”

I glare at him, completely and utterly shocked that he is dead serious. About my ass being perfect and the fact he is going to whip me with shadows until I run as fast as he wants.

“This is why you don’t have friends, by the way,” I point out.

He laughs. “I have a girlfriend, so perhaps you’re wrong.”

I narrow my eyes at him. We stare each other down in the thick of the forest. Nothing but a few birds chirping as they wake up to make any sounds. “Touch me with that again, and I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

“How?” he taunts, stepping closer. Sometimes I feel like he’s a shadow sent from hell just to torment me. “You couldn’t kill a fly right now, and that’s the whole point of our private training.”

The way he says private sounds downright seductive.

I don’t have an answer for him, and I hate that he has called me out on the sheer fact I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t defend myself from him if he really tried to kill me.

A low growl escapes my throat, a growl I’ve never heard before, and Atlas smiles wide as I turn and run. This time I push myself faster and pray I don’t get whipped by the sexiest wolf I’ve ever met. After a while, at least half an hour, Atlas tells me to run the same way back, a shadow caressing my back in warning. I’m not bad at running, not really, and the fact Atlas doesn’t say a word as he runs right behind me tells me I can’t be doing that bad. We did running drills back home all of the time. It was part of our daily routine, and I never fell behind. I wasn’t the fastest or the slowest, but somewhere in the middle was a good place to be.

But I didn’t ever push myself. I run until sweat is pouring down my back and I feel tired enough to fall asleep standing. My muscles burn with every step I take until a wall of shadows appears in front of me, and I avoid a crash as I skid to a halt inches from it. Atlas smugly walks out of the shadows, a smile on his face. He’s been running a few feet behind me the entire time, and yet there isn’t a little bit of sweat on him. He still looks flawless. Bastard. The dark shadows make the wall behind him spread until there is nothing but pure darkness around. I can’t see anything anymore, my shifter blood doing nothing to see in this unnatural darkness. I can only feel Atlas in the shadows—in his shadows. A part of me, a deep part of me, flickers in the darkness like a light waiting, watching for the right moment to break out. I don’t feel in danger, like I should do right at this moment.

“Sit down,” Atlas’ voice echoes around the space like an old ghost. I trust him enough to sit on the ground, crossing my legs, placing my hands on my knees. I feel Atlas as he sits in front of me and even through the darkness, and I cannot see his face. I know he’s close, and he’s watching me. I wonder if he can see in this darkness, and I have a funny feeling he can. “Tell me how you feel right in this moment, Nyx.”

“Safe.” I speak the single word because it’s true.

“Good,” he says. “Humans are brought up to fear the darkness and creatures like us that could be hidden within it, but the darkness is our home. The darkness is the only place that I ever felt at home, and it can be your home too, if you let it in. The truth is every shifter can find dark magic with the right instruction.”

“I can’t,” I whisper. It’s the truth and the only reason I’m here right now.

“You can. We are powerful and in control of the world, Nyx. We can shape the darkness to make what we wish. We can let light come in and bend it as well.”

I watch as above me, three gray horses appear, the size of dolls, and made of a mix of shadows and light. They run around in a circle above my head and something in my chest tightens in wonder. They are so beautiful. The horses transform into dragons that fly round and spin in the air, spreading little embers behind them. I can’t see anything other than them, the light only allowing me see what he wants me to. The dragons fade away into embers that fall down around us, giving me a perfect view of Atlas sitting opposite me. The way he looks at me through the darkness takes my breath away.

So does he. The alpha heir is so at home in this place he’s created. I watch him as carefully as he watches me. “The shadows suit you, Nyx.”

“Teach me, Atlas,” I breathe out.

His eyes flicker with something before he speaks. “Reach for the darkness within you to create something. Anything. Will it.”

“I don’t find darkness when I look within,” I tell him. “There is just… something. Something that doesn’t feel like darkness at all.”

“It’s the same,” he tells me. “You need to harness that feeling, pull it from yourself as it is a sphere of darkness kept within you. Our power is based on our emotions, so as you reach for it, think of the worst moment of your life.”

“I have plenty of those,” I mutter.

His warm hands come down gently over my knees. “Close your eyes and trust me, Nyx.”

I close my eyes to his command and search for that hidden place within my soul. Atlas’ shadows spread across my skin, across my body, into my soul, almost like he can control me. I think of the moment at the ceremony, where I was left alone and everyone was looking at me.

The wolf that can’t shift.

The useless one of the pack.

Suddenly, Atlas’ shadows snap away from me, and the darkness fades away, revealing the trees and the warm sun rising behind Atlas. He darkly laughs, offering me a hand to stand. “You may not be able to control magic yet, but you’re shielding yourself somehow. Your magic literally felt like it was burning me. Warning me. I’ve never witnessed that before.”

I take his hand and stand up. “So I’m protecting myself… subconsciously?”

“I think it’s very interesting,” he replies. “I think you’re more powerful than anyone has realized, Nyx.”

Atlas disappears into shadows, leaving me standing alone in the forest as I hear the morning bell ring at the academy. I walk back to the castle and join the crowds heading to the dining hall. I just spot Ivy and Tobias sitting down at a table as shadows appear in front of me and the dining hall goes silent.

Atlas appears right in front of me. “I forgot something important.”

“Oh?” I question right before he kisses me in front of everybody. I hear the gasps and the quiet whispers around me. I hear a fork dropping to a plate. I hear everything, but I can only focus on Atlas’ lips pressing against mine, the soft but demanding pressure. The possessive nature as his hands dig into my hair before trailing down my back and squeezing my ass just once before he lets me go.

He presses his lips to my forehead just once and looks behind him, right at where the other tutors are sitting with their breakfast. None of them look impressed, and I wonder if Atlas will get in trouble for dating me. Pretend or not. I doubt anyone would believe it was fake with that kiss. “She’s mine. If anyone dares to touch her, you deal with me.”

The alpha heir just claimed me in front of the entire academy.

Damn shame this is all a fake relationship to piss off his father.

Atlas doesn’t say goodbye before he disappears into shadows once more, leaving me with everyone staring my way. I gulp and try to ignore the looks the smug arrogant Alpha heir has left me to deal with. I immediately lock eyes with Ivy, and she raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with a smile. I turn to Tobias, and he’s not smiling at all. Tobias leaves his breakfast and walks straight out of the room. I should’ve known it might hurt him. Perhaps Ivy was right when she said he had feelings for me. Dammit. I’ll talk to him later. Ivy doesn’t say a word as I sit down, and I nab a piece of toast off her plate, feeling a dozen people still staring at me.

“I want all the details. Immediately. That was hot.”

I chuckle and tell my friend everything I can… except the truth. It’s all fake.

Chapter Fourteen

“They had no syrup for the pancakes this morning,” Ivy tells me, placing a small plastic container on my lap and sitting down on the bench at my side. “But they have Nutella, and in my opinion, that is a good swap.”

“The best swap,” I agree. “Thanks for getting these. My legs are not working after training this morning.”

Ivy wags her eyebrows at me. “So when you have private training with your soon to be mate… how long does it take to get spicy?”

I laugh and cut up my pancakes. “He doesn’t—well, I mean, Atlas is serious about training and seriously frustrated that I still can’t call up darkness.”

“I’m sorry, Nyx,” Ivy softly says. I give her a faint nod before eating my pancakes slowly, looking up at the willow tree we are sitting under. This tree must be one of the oldest trees around, judging by its size alone, and no one comes this way. Ivy found this place and suggested we come here for breakfast to get away from the academy dining hall and all the staring since Atlas’ public kiss. It’s been a whole week and my ass is stinging from his constant shadow whipping for not running fast enough, not doing the push-ups quick enough, for not finding him in the shadows before he counts to ten—honestly I think he has a complex with that whip of his. I’ve thought about tying it around his neck more than once. But I think his training is working. I feel stronger than I have before and hopefully it’s a matter of time before I can use dark magic.

Ivy passes me a bottle of orange juice, and I take a long sip, enjoying the fresh taste. The food here is really, really good.

“Do you know that this academy used to house over five thousand wolf witches?” Ivy randomly says.

I shake my head. “No. Are there that many rooms?”

She nods. “The academy is made with magic, old magic from the angels. They made this place to be a defense for their kind and the wolves before they disappeared.”

“Why did they disappear? I mean, we used to discuss this in school and everyone has a different theory,” I ask.

“In my pack, I was taught the angels gave up on us. They claim shifter kind, and humans too, to be not worthy of their help. They want us to destroy each other, and with how the war is going with the bears…” She pauses for a moment. “Sometimes, I wonder what the old days were like. Wolf witches helping out everyone, hundreds of packs spread across the world… mixing with humans and demons. Now only the rejected come here and there are so little of us, maybe a thousand left.”

I look up at the academy. “I won’t let our kind fall to the bears. I will fight, however I can, to save the wolves.”

“So will I,” she says. “And I want to fight our rules, our traditions. We should be able to love who we want. Human or not.”

“Do you speak to her anymore?” I gently ask.

She nods, looking down at her hands. “I got a letter the other day. The old-fashioned kind of letter because she loves them and her parents watch her phone.”

“You never told me her name,” I say.

“Speaking it would be a bit too painful for me,” she replies, the wind blowing her hair around. “But maybe I will find the courage to speak her name without wanting to scream sometime soon.”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” I tell her. “I believe you will find your way back to her.”

She wraps her arms around her long legs, holding them to her. “Falling in love sometimes hurts like an utter bitch, especially when you can’t be with that person. She is human, and her lifespan will be so short compared to mine. It’s all I can think of. Every day here is a day I miss with her. I want to qualify from here and do what I must for my people, but I will be counting the days until I can be with her.”

“I don’t agree with that law. Our royals… they are clouded in their immortality,” I softly say. I rarely think about the king and queen of the wolves, locked away in their homes. They set the rules over five hundred years ago and then never came out of their ancient castles. Wolves who have gone to them have never come back, and no one breaks the rules without a wolf guard appearing and dealing with them.

That usually meant death, too.

“She can’t be in my world despite how much I’d like her to be. But I can be in hers. We could disappear into the human world and I could pretend to be human for a bit, at least,” she says. “That was our plan, but it’s a sad life without pack.”

“We need each other,” I agree. “When I thought about going to mix in with the humans, it felt like a chokehold around my neck, and I can’t even shift.”

“I’d very much like you to meet her one day,” she tells me, resting her head on her legs.

“Where did you meet her?” I ask.

She smiles at me. “I never had much in the way of family. My parents were very cold, emotionless wolves. They didn’t mean to be, but they were. So yeah, when I got kicked out, it wasn’t overall a surprise to me. This place is nicer anyway. My Pack was very old-fashioned, barely had tents or campsites or anything. Growing up, we lived in our wolf form pretty much all of the time, and they could never understand why I like to go through things like my nails done or my hair done. I met her in a salon. She worked there part time.”

“I still don’t understand some of the older packs and their older traditions, refusing to take any comforts that humans have invented. My pack didn’t do that. We had houses, high walls that protected us outside the forest cliffs, and beautiful views with stone beaches below.”

She sighs. “I miss the sea. I know we are close to your pack here, but the sea must be cold?”

“Yes, very much,” I laugh. “Swimming was a requirement, even for me without my wolf to warm me up with a fur coat.”

“That sucks,” she says. “If it helps, being a shifter isn’t everything. Truthfully, you’re special without it.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. “Sometimes I let out a growl and it gives me hope that my wolf is just waiting for something. Waiting for me.”

“Do you ever wonder what the werebears are like in their city?”

“I’ve heard they live like the old wolves do. No family, nothing. They just exist to kill us, and they don’t take mates,” I tell her.

“It’s hard to believe that an entire race exists with everyone’s only mission in life to kill us. They must have families and they must know that the war will kill many, many of them too,” she says, and I nod.

“Demons weren’t something I knew anything about until here,” I admit.

“Me too. We’re not told much about them growing up, at least not in my Pack. My aunt, well everyone called her a witch, but she never had any magic that I knew of. But my mom once said, sneering at my aunt in an argument, that she really shouldn’t have been sleeping with a demon, and perhaps none of this would have happened. They claimed something was her fault. That’s the only time I heard about demons,” she admits.

“I wonder what went wrong exactly,” I say.

“Me too,” she says. “My aunt died years later, and she was always so sad.”

Ivy knocks my shoulder with hers and nods her head to the academy doors. I follow her gaze to see Tobias walking out of the side building. He’s no doubt on his way to training early. “He’s mad about you, and I know you’re not interested, but male wolves don’t take being turned down well. Through it all, he could be a good friend, and ignoring him is a little harsh.”

“I didn’t mean to ignore him… it’s just awkward,” I admit. “I miss his jokes over breakfast.”

“You should talk to him. He was your friend. He is your friend,” she corrects herself. “I’d have picked the sexy tutor, too. It’s the smoldering look, isn’t it?”

“Aren’t you gay?” I tease, and her laugh follows me as I jog over to Tobias. A part of my heart really hurts about the fact that I’m lying to her about Atlas and not telling her the truth about the fact that the relationship is fake. That he only kisses me in public, five times now, to make sure everyone knows. He only holds my hand when people are looking, and he only comes to my room to leave seconds later as people pass.

It’s all fake.

But my heart isn’t listening to that fact. It beats harder every time he is around. He’s taught me how to fight in the shadows, to hear things that are coming, and to embrace them. He’s taught me where my power should come from, and he is patient with me in every lesson. I can get through the training lessons with him, even combating against others and not completely getting killed outright.

If Tobias sees me coming, he doesn’t pause in his long strides toward the training center, and I stop at his side, touching his arm to make him pause.

He sighs and looks down at me. “Are you ever going to talk to me?”

“Nope,” he replies with a hint of a smile that doesn’t hide the pain in his eyes well. He looks down at me to where I’ve touched him, and there’s no mistaking the heat in his eyes as he matches mine. “I might be reading this wrong, so stop me if I’m babbling, but I just don’t feel that way—”

“I know. You haven’t paused to even think about it, but you will, and I will wait,” he interrupts. I’m speechless for a second, and I clear my throat. “Tobias, I’m sure that there is someone absolutely perfect out there for you, but it’s definitely not me. You’re very handsome, but I just want to be your friend.”

He sighs and looks down. He takes my hand off his arm and curls his hands around it. “Friends, it is. And as a friend, I’m warning you that Atlas is bad news. You need to be careful.”

“Thank you for the warning,” I say, taking my hand from his. “But we should get to class.”

He searches my eyes before agreeing. We walk in silence for a moment before he thankfully speaks. “Where is Ivy?”

“I think she disappeared to treasure her moments as a free wolf before Addison has her doing her chores for the next few hours,” I say, and Tobias barks out a chuckle.

“Luckily, she’s quite a natural for magic because I doubt Addison is teaching her much,” Tobias says, and I agree. “A few days ago, Addison even had poor Ivy putting on her fake nails for her in the middle of the dining hall. That one time you didn’t turn up. It was ridiculous.”

I remember that day. I was so exhausted I never made it to the dining room, only to my bed.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been getting better at training,” I say, giving him a compliment. It’s an understatement because I’m not the only one noticing that he is nearly out doing his demon trainer, and it’s impressive.

“Thanks,” he says, running his hand through his hair as I open the door to the training room. As we walk through the doors together, I nearly run straight into Atlas. Atlas pauses and looks between us, his eyes narrowing before he’s at my side, pulling me by my waist and kissing me deeply with Tobias right at my side. I don’t mistake it as anything but jealousy, but it is a possessive kind of jealousy that I didn’t expect from Atlas. This is so not normal for a fake relationship. Not that I have a ton of experience or anyone to ask.

His tongue slides into my mouth, deepening the kiss, his lips pressing harshly onto mine as he takes everything he wants, and I feel that kiss everywhere on my body as he slowly breaks away. His large hands stay around my waist, but he lets me turn, my cheeks burning red as I face Tobias.

Tobias looks nothing but furious, his eyes flashing with his wolf, but he doesn’t say a word. Atlas only responds with a low growl that has Tobias reluctantly walking away. “That’s my friend.”

“He’s a male and you are mine,” Atlas growls. “I don’t share, doll.”

I shiver from his tone and my mouth goes dry. “And trust me, Nyx, he does not look at you like a friend. He wants what is mine.”

The temptation to say “for now” halts on the tip of my tongue.

The doors open behind us, and I turn to see a young boy walk in. I don’t know him and he looks familiar, with thick dark hair and brown eyes. He must be about ten years old, and he scents as a demon, oddly enough. His eyes find mine, and I’m surprised how much older they look than the rest of him. “The master wants to see you, Atlas.”

Atlas nods at him and looks at me with a classic smirk. “Don’t accidentally stab anyone, including yourself, while I’m gone.”

I stick my tongue out at him and cross my arms, making him laugh. Ivy walks in the doors, her head down, and the boy looks at her. “You must be Ivy? You’re to follow me.”

“Who are you?” Ivy asks as I give her a quizzical look.

The boy doesn’t answer and walks out, with Ivy and Atlas following after them.

Addison’s heels give her away without needing to look as she stops at my side. “Seems like it’s you and me, Nyx. How fun.”

“Yup,” I say, refusing to show her any fear.

She leans down. “Do you know who that is? Why even Atlas didn’t blink before agreeing to follow him?”

I look at her this time. “The boy?”

She laughs. “That boy is the king of the demons, older than anyone in this academy could imagine being. If he is here, trouble is coming our way, and we can’t have weak wolves in our army.”

She gives me a pointed look, and I roll my eyes. “What do you want me to do for you today, then?”

Addison leads me over to one corner and tilts her head at me. “You’re not going to win this game you’re playing. You know that, right? I’m letting him have his fun. It’s only fair as I did that once, but he’ll get bored with you soon enough. You’re just a pretty distraction.”

“That’s nice,” I say, getting annoyed but refusing to let her see it. “Anything else you’d like to say before we actually do some real training? Or I become your slave like Ivy?”

She laughs, looking me over. “All right then.”

I don’t have time to brace myself as she slams a ball of shadows straight into my stomach, and I fly in the air across the room, slamming harshly onto the ground. I feel something in my shoulder crack, and I scream out with pain, rolling to a stop. I hear Tobias, but shadows surround me in an instant, quickly blocking out everything. The shadows don’t feel safe, like Atlas’ do. These feel like sitting in a shark tank with a bleeding hand. I stand up, my shoulder screaming in pain and my arm falling limply at my side, but I refuse to lie down and take this attack.

“Do you really think the alpha heir will even care if I kill you?” she taunts, her voice echoing in the darkness. “You are nothing more than a good fuck.”

Something ice cold slams into my stomach, and I gasp, falling to my knees as I struggle to stand, hearing Addison’s laugh echo around me. I straighten up, barely able to breathe, and I hear her voice again.

“Do you think—”

This time I use Atlas’ training and figure out where her voice comes from. I lash out, grabbing hold of something that feels like hair and pull hard. She screams, and I grin right before she smacks me hard in the side of my face, and I roll across the ground to a stop in the darkness, tasting blood in my mouth. I cough it out, my shoulder burning, and I grit my teeth.

I can’t die like this.

Strong hands wrap around my throat, lifting me up off the ground. I see her blue eyes cutting through the shadows. “I am going to kill you, slowly, for each time you’ve touched my—”

Suddenly, she’s gone, and I fall to the ground, gasping for air and coughing out more blood. I look up to see Atlas standing in front of me, facing Addison, who has shifted into her beautiful wolf a few feet away.

Her wolf growls low, and Atlas growls back. “Mine. Get the fuck out of here before we have a big problem, Addison.”

Her wolf looks between us before she shifts back and stands tall, her eyes narrowed on Atlas. “She’s clueless and powerless, Atlas. It would be a kindness to end it. I don’t know if she’s a magnificent fuck, but she is going to die. Whether you like it or not.”

“Fuck off, Addison,” he coldly snaps, and he walks back out to me without saying a word. I’m too weak to do anything as Atlas picks me up, both of us disappearing into darkness before reappearing in a room that’s warm and scents just like him. My shoulder is killing me as Atlas gently puts me down on a large, soft bed.

“I didn’t need you to save me,” I whisper with barely any argument in it. Truth is I’m embarrassed. I was helpless, just like she said. He must be so ashamed of me, just like the rest of my pack was.

Atlas sits next to me on the bed, tilting my head up with his hand. “She was out of order. Addison is as old as I am, hundreds of years, and she is just as helpless as any newbie in the beginning. You, Nyx Arcturus, have eyes that tell your truth. You’re gold, hidden away, but one day you’re going to shine. I fucking know it.”

Tears fall down my cheeks, and he smooths them away, not saying a word more. He doesn’t need to.

My heart is lost. It’s his now, and I don’t even care that I’m going to get hurt at this point. The pain will be worth it for the moments like this. “I’m going to get you something for the pain.”

I nod as he climbs off what must be his bed, and I take a moment to look around at his space. There is a roaring fireplace that stretches all the way up to a tall ceiling, stone dragons making side pieces of the fireplace, holding it together in the fire. There isn’t much here for an immortal male, but maybe he isn’t a hoarder like I am. I’d only need a hundred years to overfill a room like this in pictures, statues, and furniture. I really don’t like to throw things away. There’s two wardrobes, dark and looming over the room like their owner. A chess set rests on the tip of a counter, and on the wall are a few paintings of a forest. I’m surprised to see a guitar lying against the side of the cabinet, its handle making it look like it’s used often. The bed itself takes up a lot of the room—a large king-size with dark satin sheets. The very color of midnight, and it reminds me of Atlas’ hair. Atlas comes out of what must be a bathroom and sits next to me. “You could take me to the infirmary.”

“They don’t usually stop attacks like that, nor heal them,” Atlas tells me. “They expect you to heal quick enough they don’t have to be involved. The infirmary is for werebear attacks, mostly.”

“Why?” I question. “Surely it’s smarter to have a bigger army, even if everyone isn’t very powerful. They could have gotten stronger.”

“The demons aren’t here for free, Nyx. They feed off dark magic, but they also feed off pain. It’s one of the reasons they’re so happy to help here. It’s part of the deal. A death is like a big meal to them,” he explains, and my stomach turns.

Atlas opens a pot of something that smells utterly disgusting before he looks over my shoulder. “Can I rip this?” he asks. I’m in so much pain that I nod, and he rips my shirt without hurting me, pulling it down to reveal my shoulder and nothing else. My shoulder is red, already swollen, and feels extremely painful. He takes a handful of quite a bit of what looks like green sticky muck and spreads it over my shoulder.

“What is this?”

“My pack, being as wild as they were, had a few good uses. They have a lot of old recipes for things, mixed with a bit of human concoctions, I made a perfect healing lotion,” he tells me, and I chuckle.

“Other than the smell?”

“A design fault I haven’t been able to fix.” He grins. “You really don’t want to know what’s in it, but it will heal you fast.”

“Thank you, it already feels better,” I say with a sigh. “So… should I expect any other ex-girlfriends to attack me, or is it just Addison?”

“Addison was the only wolf I dated. Really dated… the rest were forgotten by the morning,” he tells me, no shame in any of his words. I can’t help the burning jealousy that I suddenly feel at the thought of any females touching him. Gods, he isn’t mine.

“Will I be forgotten so easily?” I blurt out.

He smirks. “You’re the only female I’ve fake dated, so I doubt it, Nyx.”

I laugh but there is no feeling in it as he reminds me how fake this is between us. I lean back on his bed, cringing at the smell of this stuff, but loving that my pain is disappearing like an outgoing wave. “I can go back to my room, if you want.”

“You can stay here,” he replies. There is no space for an argument, and I’m quite happy to sleep here for a bit. Just a bit.

I nod my head at the guitar. “Do you play?”

“Sometimes,” he tells me, avoiding the question with a vague answer.

I chuckle to myself. “You’re such a cliché bad boy. Dark hair, plays guitar, moody attitude.”

He laughs deeply, and I enjoy the sound and how beautiful he looks in this moment.

“Will you play for me?” I question with a yawn.

He runs his fingers down my arm. “Not this time, Nyx. I left the king of the demons mid meeting when I heard you scream. I should get back before he gets bored.”

My cheeks flush. “You heard me?”

Atlas doesn’t reply to me, standing up and cleaning his hand with a towel to get rid of the medicine before looking down at me. “Don’t touch my things while I’m gone.”

He vanishes into shadows, and I fall asleep before I could even think of searching for anything.

Chapter Fifteen

Fingers trace down my cheek and, in my sleepy haze, I grab the hand and snuggle into it before I go dead still in realization. I turn, still holding on to his hand, and look up at Atlas leaning over my bed. With a near scream ripping out my throat, I kick him hard in the stomach, but he is faster than me, dodging my kick and moving back a few steps. “What. The. Fuck. Atlas!”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I need you to get dressed and come with me. Now.”

I look at my phone, seeing it’s two in the morning. “No. Not without you giving me a damn good reason why you’re in my room.”

He simply waits, staring me down. “Atlas.”

“There is a party going on, and my brother is there. We need to be there,” he explains, sounding more pissed off by the second. “He wasn’t impressed to find me there alone. We have damage control to work on.”

“A party? What, here in the academy?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me, no doubt finding my question annoying, and he goes to my wardrobe. Seeing as personal space isn’t something Atlas knows anything about, I don’t bother to stop him as I go to my bathroom and freshen up. When I come out, Atlas is holding up a small black dress I know wasn’t in my wardrobe.

“I’m not wearing that. Where the hell did you get it from?”

He throws the dress at me, and I catch it mid-air. “Wear it, doll. I’ll be outside.”

I resist the urge to snap at him as he disappears in shadows, leaving me alone in my room. I glance at the bed and then back at the dress, wondering what I should do. I could go back to sleep and royally piss Atlas off, but another part of me wants to see what his brother is like. I sigh, knowing my curiosity is going to win this argument, and I bet I’m going to regret it. I slip on the black dress, which molds itself to my curves as it’s a size too small. The hem of the skirt is a little too short, but after pulling it down a few times, I leave it be. I throw a little makeup on, some eyeliner and lip gloss, before brushing out my long blonde hair. My gold eyes, so strange and different from anyone else I’ve seen before, seem to glow with their own light as I head outside into the corridor. Atlas is standing in the middle of the dark, silent corridor, and the shadows only make him look better. I was in such a haze; I didn’t really appreciate his dark shirt, a few buttons undone, revealing what I’m sure is a tattoo on his chest that I’ve never seen before.

“When did you get a tattoo?” I question.

He doesn’t say a word, staring at me in a way that I can’t read as anything but lust. I gulp from the alpha look in his eyes as he stalks toward me and kisses me. This kiss is brutal, passionate and explorative with every stroke, and I’m so distracted that I don’t notice we have gone anywhere in the shadows until the heavy dance music fills my ears. The heat of the room presses against my bare skin, and the mixture of so many scents overwhelms me. Atlas’ lips trace down my jaw, and he kisses my neck softly as I look up at the disco lights flickering across the tall ceiling.

“You can have demon markings done at parties like this. They appear when you want, and disappear when you don’t,” Atlas tells me, directly into my ear. “I love the idea of choosing a marking for you. Somewhere only I would see.”

Gods. Atlas Eridani is going to ruin me for any male shifter.

For anyone.

We dance slowly, my body and his linked together, and I can’t get enough. I don’t know how long we dance for, how the time passes, because all I feel and see is him. My Atlas. He is the one to break away first and lead me through the other dancers—a mixture of shifters if I’m scenting them all right. Humans and demons too. We come out of the dance-floor to a bar packed with people, but they part for Atlas like he is their king. The bartender opens up the bar, and we walk through to a curtain covered archway in the middle of the drink stand and into a small, private room. It’s quieter in here and there is a layer drinks on a table in the corner. There is a circular sofa, and sitting on one side is a male that must be Atlas’ brother. He has Atlas’ dark hair, massive muscular form, but his eyes are dark brown, and his expression is cold. Guarded. Atlas sits down and pulls me onto his lap, making it clear where I will be sitting.

Atlas’ brother looks at me, making a judgment before turning to Atlas. “Dad isn’t going to accept this, Brother.”

Atlas’ hands tighten on my waist. “Always nice to have you turn up, Romeo. Romeo, this is Nyx Arcturus.”

“Nyx, are you a wolf? I’ve heard rumors you can’t shift, and that’s why you’re here. Added with the fact no one chose you as their mate,” Romeo says, never actually looking at me.

“The fact I wasn’t forced to be ‘chosen’ by one of the useless males in my pack was a blessing. As for my wolf… you are correct,” I reply to him. “And, as you’re already being rude, why are you here?”

He growls at me, giving me a dark look that suggests he is working out a way to kill me. I should be scared, but with Atlas at my side, I feel a little safer. “I don’t answer to you, Nyx.”

Atlas growls right back. “I wouldn’t even think about it, Brother. She is mine.”

“Fools,” Romeo snaps. “You can’t be alpha with her at your side, and you have walked away from your duties long enough. Our pack is being hunted constantly, and they need you.”

“If you care about being alpha so much, why don’t you just challenge our father and be done with it?” Atlas drawls. “I am not returning to be their alpha.”

Romeo stands up, fastening the buttons on his suit coat. “Stay and play with your little pretend wolf, but you know your fate, and I know mine. Stop being a bastard and go home before there is no home to return to. Dump the bitch before you do.”

“Fuck off,” Atlas growls at him.

“Gladly,” Romeo smoothly replies, walking out of the curtains and leaving us alone.

I turn on Atlas’ lap and place my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast, noticing his hands clenched into fists at my waist. “He is a delight.”

Atlas slowly looks down at me, and in the dim darkness, it takes my breath away how handsome he is. “Let me touch you, Nyx. I need… I need you right now.”

“I’ve never—”

“I know,” he replies, running his hand down my arm and resting it on my thigh. “I like that about you. That I’m the first to do this—”

He cups me under my dress in one smooth movement, and I gasp from the contact. “Atlas!”

Atlas deeply kisses me as he pushes my panties to one side, stroking down my slit before finding the bundle of nerves that only I have touched before. I moan into his mouth as he slowly rubs my clit in circles, and he swallows every single one of my moans like he wants to keep them forever. He suddenly pushes me down on the sofa with a growl and kneels between my legs, pushing them apart and blatantly staring right down at my core.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

I blush in the darkness, desperate for more. I don’t know how this is helping him, but as he leans down and presses a kiss right on my core, the pleasure I feel makes me lose any thought other than what he is going to do. I might not have done this, but I read enough smutty books the last few years that I have a good idea.

With a growl that I feel everywhere, his hot tongue finds my clit at the same time he pushes a finger inside me. The sensation feels incredible and I gasp, surprised at how close I am to the edge already. Atlas doesn’t give me a chance to even breathe as his tongue laps at my clit, swirling and sucking, demanding an orgasm from me that I’m powerless to resist. I cry out his name in pure pleasure as the best orgasm I’ve ever had smacks into me, and I tighten around his finger, riding out the waves of pleasure.

I breathe in a deep gasp of air as Atlas looks up at me, slowly pushing my panties to the side and putting his finger into his mouth, sucking the last of me off his hand. Dirty, dirty tutor.

I can’t help but smile, and he winks at me, standing up. “Come and dance with me, Nyx.”

“Don’t you want to,” I wave a hand at his pants and the very big bulge I can see there.

He comes over and leans over me on the sofa, whispering low. “Despite how much I want to fuck you, I won’t be your first. This is fake, remember? I’m not that cruel.”

A low feeling of disappointment fills my chest, and I swallow down the hurt. The pain that sentence brings up. I look up at him, meeting his cold gaze with one of my own. “You are cruel, Atlas. But you’re insane if you think I was offering to sleep with you. Good night. Thanks for the fun.”

His wickedly cruel laugh follows me as I walk out, determined to find my way back to my room alone, and promising myself never to be that stupid again.

Chapter Sixteen

“So how are classes going?” Tobias asks as he and I mosey along one of the outside balconies. The sprawling castle grounds extend into the distance below us, and even though the air is brisk, the sun is out and shining in full force. Ivy was nowhere to be found when we met up, and I can only hope that Addison hasn’t turned her into some kind of errand girl like she usually does. I’d say that goes outside the bounds of our mentee requirements, but Ivy is too kind to say anything, and after Addison attacking me, neither one of us want to test her again.

I chuckle and elbow him playfully. “You sound like my parents.”

Tobias grins, laughing. “Now that you mention it, maybe I should start asking to see your report card.”

“Checkmate,” I fire back. “We don’t get report cards here.” My smile wavers. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. I don’t need a grade to know that I’m failing.”

“Still can’t get the hang of it, huh?” Tobias asks, leaning back against the railing.

I shake my head. “I’ve tried everything. Fear, anger, rejection… every memory I can think of. But I can’t manage even an ounce of dark magic.” I sigh.

“Hey,” Tobias says, his silver eyes searching mine, “you’ll get it eventually, Nyx. Everyone does.” His brow furrows. “I’m sure having that prick Atlas teaching you isn’t helping.”

I swallow a sudden lump in my throat. It’s been weeks since I made that deal with Atlas, and although his demeanor toward me hasn’t changed much, the entire academy knows about his claim on me. That orgasm is still burnt in my memory, in fact, all of his kisses are, even if they are just for show. I’ve never been kissed like that, and I know when he ends our fake relationship, he is going to be taking a bit of my soul with him. It’s going to hurt, and I should never have made this deal. I can’t help the strange sensation I get in my stomach now whenever we interact. Like I’ve seen a part of him that he doesn’t want anyone to see. “He’s not the problem,” I reply. “He’s like, one of the best instructors in the school.”

“Sure,” Tobias acknowledges, “but that doesn’t make him the best teacher in the school.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you offering?”

I’m getting nowhere with Atlas despite his best attempts with dark magic, but I am learning… hopefully he is right and I just need a spark. Maybe Tobias can help me too.

Tobias gives me his characteristic crooked smile. “I bet I can work out a special rate for you if you want. I was thinking your slice of chocolate cake from the canteen that we get on Fridays?”

I laugh, looking away. “You’re too kind.”

“I’m serious,” Tobias replies, chuckling. “Without a mentor to order me around, I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.” His expression turns serious, and it looks like he’s debating something. He doesn’t need a mentor anymore, he is skilled and— “In fact, I was thinking…”

But he doesn’t have time to finish, because at that moment, the door to the fourth floor opens and out walks Atlas, his shoulders hunched and his face set in determination. “Nyx,” he says. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I glance from him to Tobias, who crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Did I miss a lecture or something?” I ask.

Atlas shakes his head, but he looks at Tobias for a second, and then the small space between us. The low growl that radiates from his chest is hard to miss but Tobias doesn’t budge. “Alice is summoning the new students and their mentors to the training grounds. Looks like we’re going on a little field trip.”

“Any idea why the rest of us aren’t involved?” Tobias asks, an unmistakable edge creeping into his voice.

Atlas stares him down, his expression hard. “None.” He turns to me. “Come on, Nyx.”

Tobias looks like he’s ready to argue, but then thinks better of it. “I guess you should get going,” he says.

“I guess so,” I reply, placing my hand on his arm. “But thank you for your offer. I’ll… think about it.”

Atlas, arms crossed, stares at me for a moment before wordlessly turning around. That stare was not friendly. For some reason, a buzz flows through me. I shoot Tobias an apologetic look and hurry to catch up with him.

* * *

“I can’t believe the Master actually trusts us with something like this,” Ivy says disbelievingly as we march through the forest, sticks and rocks snagging on my boots.

Addison rolls her eyes. “You heard what she said. If we don’t find anything then they’ll organize a full-on search.”

“We’ll manage,” Atlas growls, shooting her a look. He hasn’t left my side since we got here and if I didn’t know better, I would think he is protecting me.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” Addison replies coolly from Atlas’ other side. “It’s the freshies I’m worried about.”

“Can we focus on the task at hand, please?” one of the other senior students, Luke, demands. “You heard what the Master said: a contingency of werebears has appeared in the area, and they might be the same ones who killed Seth. We’re supposed to be gathering information, not running our mouths.”

“I’m multitasking,” Addison says with an irritating shrug.

At the mention of Seth’s name, Atlas immediately bristles. “Luke’s right.”

Addison’s tone softens. “Come on, Atlas. Don’t be like that. I’ll shut up just for you.”

Atlas rounds on her. “Is this a joke to you?” he demands. “Do you know how many wolves they have killed in just this last week?”

“Babe—”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

Is it just me, or did his eyes dart over to me for a split second there?

I link my fingers through his, standing right at his side and stopping this if I can. “We should carry on.”

He looks down at me, his anger and pain fading a little. I swear I can almost feel the emotions swirling in his eyes, and I feel sorry for him. I wish I could make it easier. This Seth person must have been more to him than I knew. He nods.

“What happens if we run into a werebear?” Ivy asks into the silence as we keep walking, Addison moving slightly away from us with a sharp look in my direction.

“We won’t,” Addison dismisses.

“But what if…”

“Jeez, we won’t, okay?” Addison snaps.

Ivy falls silent, unconvinced. I sidle up to her and give her a reassuring smile. “That’s what our mentors here are for,” I remind her, and then joke, “Besides, what are the odds of us actually running into one of those things? Like we should be that lucky.”

That prompts a grin on Ivy’s part. “You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I remind her. “We’re going to be fine. Besides, we—you—have dark magic. There’s nothing to worry about.”

That seems to do the trick, since she seems to perk up at the mention of her powers. Despite having a psycho for a mentor, Ivy is kicking ass at dark magic. She could probably run circles around everyone else in our class—including some of the older students.

Luke turns to Quinn, the bespectacled brunette who’s been mentoring Colton. Both of them are in their wolf forms—brown and ginger, respectively—with their noses to the ground as we walk. Meanwhile, the blond McNalty brothers, mentors to Steven and Nick, flank the road on either side. Neither of them can shift either, I’ve found out, but that doesn’t make me feel much better, considering they’re both some of the best dark magic users in the school.

“Get anything?” Luke asks Quinn.

“The trail is getting stronger,” she replies, lifting her snout.

“You’ve been saying that for the past four hours,” Addison complains.

“Four and a half hours,” Quinn corrects her. “And it’s still true.”

I hang back where Atlas is walking, falling into step beside him. “Any idea who tipped off the Academy about the werebears?”

He turns to me, a little surprised, and I realize he must have been deep in thought. “One of the scouts, probably,” he replies. “Charles, if I had to guess.”

I can’t fight a smile. “I hope he’s all right. I like that guy.”

“Yeah,” Atlas replies, the ghost of a smile on his own face. “I’m not surprised.”

I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Atlas turns to me. “Look, I don’t know what you were taught in your last pack, but I don’t want you running into the fray if something goes wrong out here.”

“And here I was planning to charge into battle armed with sticks and rocks,” I quip.

“Nyx, I’m serious.”

I can’t help but needle him a little. “Yeah, I’m guessing it counts against you if your mentee gets ripped to shreds.

“I don’t give a shit about my reputation as a mentor,” Atlas replies abruptly, coming to a complete stop and turning to me. His green eyes are blazing in the low light. “I don’t want you dead.”

He lowers his tone, leaning closer to my ear so only I can hear. The brush of his skin against mine leaves me with goosebumps. “Can’t lose my fake girlfriend, can I?

Fake, this is fake.

He leans back, looking down at me.

For a moment, I’m paralyzed by his gaze, my heart racing in my chest, and all I can do is squeak out a tiny, “Oh.” Why am I suddenly losing my nerve around him, anyway?

Atlas turns on his heel, and I have to hurry to catch up to him, ready to change the subject. “So… Seth,” I say, my curiosity taking over as I try to desperately forget what just happened. “Did you know him?”

“Not well,” Atlas replies, not looking at me.

“But he was assigned to your pack,” I blurt out.

Atlas turns to me, looking first stunned, and then fiery. “Where did you hear that?” he asks slowly.

“Is it true?”

Atlas snorts and turns away, but I fall back into step with him. “Well, is it?”

“You really are persistent, you know that, Nyx?” His tone is annoyed, but there’s a smirk on his face.

I grin. “So I’ve been told.”

“If I tell you, are you just going to keep asking questions?”

I toss my hair over my shoulder. “No promises.”

Atlas sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and says, “It’s true.”

“Damn,” I say, my smile fading. “So does that mean—”

But I’m cut off by the sound of snapping branches and heavy footsteps, and the next thing I know, something is striking me from the side. A searing pain flares up in my torso as I’m sent flying into a nearby tree, the wind going out of me.

For a moment, I’m so disoriented that I don’t know what’s going on, but as my vision clears, I can make out an enormous shape amidst the trees, with shaggy brown fur, enormous paws, and eyes that gleam with hatred. Fear takes hold of me.

A werebear. And he’s coming right at me.

In the distance, I can hear the others shouting and running, but we’re far behind on the trail, and the creature is within feet of me. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for what’s coming…

Only for a dark blur to come shooting at it from the side, as fast as a bullet, colliding with the werebear moments before it reaches me. The wolf clamps its jaws into the werebear’s flank, prompting a roar of rage, and between the dark fur and the emerald-green eyes, there’s no question who it is.

Atlas tears a chunk of flesh from the werebear’s side, his bloodstained fangs gleaming, and then leaps in front of me, putting himself between me and the creature.

“Atlas!” I cry without even thinking about it, the pain coming through in my voice. I must have broken at least one rib, but right now, my concern is all for him: for the male who’s ready to stand in the path of an oncoming werebear, just to keep my pathetic ass alive.

In an instant, he shifts back into his human form, holding out his hands, and for a moment he looks back, his eyes meeting mine. Worry and rage cross his features, and then he’s sending a wave of darkness spiraling out from his fingertips. It physically forces the werebear away, giving him an opening to shift again and pounce on it from the front.

By now the others have arrived: Addison, in her silvery-blonde wolf form, leads the charge, with Quinn and Colton right behind her. The McNalty twins are already launching dark magic attacks, their mentees following suit, and Ivy has covered her red fur with a barrier of dark magic as she sprints forward, her fangs bared. It’s almost like they share one mind as they set upon the werebear, the five shifted wolves working to bring it to the ground while the others wound it with their magic. Blood flies and roars echo in the forest.

And I’m sitting here, unable to do anything.

I’m feeling woozy from the pain by the time the werebear drops to the ground, shifting back to his human form in the process. He’s mortally wounded, judging by the gashes covering him, but there’s nothing but disdain in his eyes as he looks from one shifter to the next. His gaze settles on Atlas, and then he bares his teeth in a sick grin.

“Who are you?” Atlas demands, pinning him to the ground under his boot. I hear the werebear’s ribs cracking under the pressure. Each crack echoes throughout the forest. “Who sent you?”

The werebear just laughs, hollow and empty. “You really think it makes a difference, Atlas?” he demands then laughs some more. The others exchange a startled glance.

“How do you know my name?” Atlas asks, his tone dangerous.

The werebear doesn’t respond, instead, wiping some of the blood from his face, never taking his mud brown eyes off Atlas. “It’s too late for questions,” he says contemptuously. “Your pack is fucked, alpha heir.”

He coughs, blue foam leaking from his lips before he wheezes and slumps backward, the life draining out of him before our eyes, and in his last second, he looks right at me and smirks before he fully collapses. It must have been a poison of some kind. He must have been prepared to be caught.

“He’s dead,” Quinn flatly says after several moments, and Atlas looks back at me, his eyes missing nothing. “What do you think he meant when he…?”

She turns toward Atlas, but he isn’t listening. He’s already rushing back over to me, worry written on his face. “Nyx,” he says, dropping to his knees next to me. “Are you all right?” I’ve never seen him this concerned before. The protectiveness radiating off of him is palpable.

Fake. Fake. Fake.

Someone needs to remind my heart not to beat for him.

I struggle to sit up, but that’s a mistake; the pain in my side is so severe that it makes me see stars, all the blood rushing out of my head at once. “Guess I should’ve used the sticks and rocks,” I mumble, and that’s when I finally pass out.

Chapter Seventeen

I’m not sure how long I drift away in dreamland, but eventually images start to filter back to me from the darkness along with a dark, midnight scent that relaxes me. It’s hard to tell which of them are real and which of them are just figments of my pain-riddled imagination, but I become aware of movement, and the sensation of someone’s hard and firm body against mine. The grassy ground is a blur, and I can see the faint outlines of trees in the darkness around us. I’m on my back, being carried by a set of strong arms, and although I can hear frantic, muffled voices around me, I’m too woozy to make out what they’re saying. I try to look around, but all I can see before I succumb to the blood and pain is Atlas’ crescent-shaped scar. His eyes like diamonds cutting into my soul and branding me from the inside out.

* * *

The pain is still there when I come to, but it’s duller than it was before, and the grogginess seems to have lifted. I don’t have any sense of what time it is or where I am, but as my vision clears, I notice warm blood orange sunlight streaming in through stained-glass windows. All around me are plain empty beds, white curtain partitions, and bland wooden cabinets and trays full of jars and boxes. The school infirmary.

“Ah, Ms. Arcturus,” says a familiar voice. “You’re awake.”

I turn to see Master Ombres standing by the doorway, Tobias and Ivy at her side. They immediately rush over to me after a nod from Ombres. “You’re awake!” exclaims Ivy, pulling me into a hug, dark circles under her eyes. “Thank hell.”

Tobias grins as he comes to a stop on my other side, his hands in his pockets. The relief on his face is poignant, but he still manages to joke, “Here I was thinking you were never going to wake up.”

“You know me,” I quip, still a little out of it. “I always take the easy way out.”

He laughs, running a hand through his blond hair, but he looks pale, and there’s worry in his gray eyes. When he turns back to me, he looks like he’s going to say something else, only to shake his head. “I’m glad you’re okay, Nyx,” he says at last, his eyes darting over to Master Ombres.

“Indeed,” the Master says, smiling. “You’ve been out cold for almost two days.”

“Seriously?” I ask, sitting up. “What happened? Where is everyone?” I reel back through my memories, trying to fill in the blanks. “The last thing I remember was that werebear…”

“You suffered a concussion during the fight,” Master Ombres explains.

“And a few broken ribs,” Ivy adds, “not to mention a nasty gash on your side.”

Tobias’ expression darkens. “I can’t believe that bastard got the drop on you guys like that,” he says. “You could have died.”

“Hey,” I say, trying to reassure him, “that’s what I signed up for, right?”

Tobias laughs. “I think all the healing spells are going to your head, Nyx. Seriously, though,” he adds, his expression turning grave again, “I’m glad you’re okay.” I can tell by his tone that he means it, and my heart swells in my chest.

After a brief discussion, and some strong encouragement from me, Ivy and Tobias reluctantly depart to get some rest, with Tobias lingering for a moment in the doorway before he leaves. I’m lucky to have found friends good enough to worry about me when I’m down for the count, but worrying can really take it out of you. I would know.

Alone with Master Ombres, I turn to her and ask the question that’s been burning in my mind. “The werebear mentioned Atlas’ pack before he died,” I tell her. “Any idea what that was about?”

The demon’s expression darkens. “I hope I’m wrong, but if they planned this—and it certainly seems like they did—then it means they’re changing their strategy. Getting more aggressive. Right now, I can only speculate, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened so soon after Seth’s death.”

My eyes widen. “You think the werebears are targeting the Blood Moon Pack?”

Master Ombres crosses her arms, and although she doesn’t answer my question, I can see the acknowledgement in her expression. “If they are,” she replies, “then things are about to get worse.”

A sudden pang of fear fills my chest as I think back to the encounter in the woods, and I sit bolt upright in bed. “Where’s Atlas?” I exclaim, feeling like a complete idiot for not thinking of him sooner. If something happened to him while he was carrying me back here…

“He’s all right,” Master Ombres assures me, holding up a hand. “He’s catching up on some sleep right now, but if I hadn’t told him to go and rest, he would probably still be here.”

“In the infirmary?”

She nods, her eyes calculating. “He didn’t leave your side from the moment you arrived here. If Tatiana weren’t as skilled as she is, he would have insisted on performing the dark healing magic himself.”

I swallow hard, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Really?”

Master Ombres raises her eyebrows, a knowing smile flickering across her face. “You’re surprised?”

“I mean… a little,” I admit, blushing for reasons I can’t explain.

Master Ombres smiles tightly but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, she turns to me, her smile fading, and says, “You’re lucky you came through that mission in one piece, Nyx. Take this time to recover, because one thing is certain: the werebears are getting bolder. We need all our cadets in fighting shape to defend your packs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, my expression serious.

Master Ombres sits on the edge of my bed, crossing her long legs. “May I tell you a story? While you rest?”

I tilt my head to the side. “Sure.”

She looks away from me at the window, the bright sunlight casting deep and vibrant colors across her face. “In the time before, before life, before there was even a touch of sunlight on our planet there were ten sister deities. They were as immortal as we are and emotionless for the world around them. Thousands, maybe even millions of years passed by until one of the sisters found something alive. A small flower, beautiful and bright like a diamond. She showed it to her sisters, who were all surprised by this life. This something… so different.”

She pauses for a second. “Each of the sisters held hands and made themselves as bright as the flower, and cast their souls into the skies. It’s said they made the stars and the sun, and the moon. They made everything.”

“I’ve never heard that story before. I was told that Luna and Nox, night and day, made everything magical,” I reply, remembering my history lessons. Luna was a goddess of light, and Nox a god of darkness. They loved each other and Luna birthed magic into the worlds.

Her expression stays the same. “Luna and Nox are in our history, yes, but they were not the beginning. Many do not remember this, but we do. The demons and angels, that is. Some say angels are stars and demons are the darkness between them.”

“And wolves?” I question.

This time she looks at me, her eyes so dark I can just imagine them being the darkness of space around the light of a star. “Shifters are the bridge between the darkness and light.”

Master Ombres stands up and inclines her head toward me. “May the ten bless your recovery, Nyx.”

I watch her walk out, feeling a warmth of light coming from a demon, and I fall asleep dreaming about ten deities bursting into stars.

Chapter Eighteen

Tatiana, the sour faced school nurse, discharges me the next day on the condition that I don’t do anything too hard on my ribs until the dark magic has a chance to take full effect. That’s fine by me; I’ll be happy if I never have to see another werebear again.

I guess it’s almost inevitable that Atlas is on my mind as I walk out of the infirmary, and a part of me is glad not to have seen him because I can’t be this obsessed, or he is going to know from one look at my face. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, not ever, and I doubt it would be much different this time. If the Master was really telling the truth, then he spent more than twenty-four hours at my bedside. Is he really that invested in my well-being? He said in the forest that his concern wasn’t about his reputation, so if it wasn’t, then…

I come to an abrupt stop in the empty corridor, my heart leaping in my chest. Atlas is leaning against the wall outside the infirmary, his head bowed, and his arms crossed. For a second all I can see is the alpha heir. An alpha wolf in training, destined to rule an entire pack and so wrong for me in every kind of way. He is beautiful in a way males shouldn’t be allowed to be, but Atlas owns it. Owns me in more ways than one. I run my eyes over him, from head to toe, enjoying his muscular shoulders and tight waist, his thick thighs, and strong legs. The way his clothes are tight, stretching across all that muscle, and his golden skin gleams in the dim light. Atlas is a god, and I am a mortal in comparison. The moment he hears me, his head shoots up, and his eyes lock with mine. A mixture of emotions flash across his face: surprise, conflict, and relief, and when he straightens up, I feel suddenly small. “Nyx,” he breathes out, approaching me. My name on his lips has never sounded so perfect.

“Hi,” I reply in a small voice, my heart pounding. “Were you… waiting for me?”

“Yes.” Atlas’ expression smolders in the low light.

“I…” I struggle to respond. “I wanted to thank you for what you did back there.” I pause, swallowing. “Master Ombres said you stayed with me in the infirmary while I was out. You… didn’t have to do that.”

Atlas crosses his muscled arms, looking away. “I’m just glad you’re all right,” he says finally, sounding gruff. He’s practically burning with frustration and relief, a heady combination that makes my stomach heat up and my cheeks turn red. The way he looked at me before I passed out is fresh in my head: his fear and protectiveness, like I was all that mattered to him.

The air between us seems to crackle with electricity.

“Don’t sound so excited,” I snark lightly, mostly in an attempt to defuse the tension. Something about my snarky comment makes his gaze snap to me. In three steps, I’m pinned against the wall and his body is pressed against mine, a growl vibrating from his chest.

Atlas’ eyes are dark shadows as he looks down at me. “Damn it, Nyx, I thought you were going to die.”

I blink, stunned. “I didn’t,” I say at last, “so there’s no reason to—”

But I don’t have time to finish as Atlas closes the distance between us, and the next thing I know his lips are on mine. A startled sound escapes me, the butterflies in my stomach reaching a crescendo, and I lean into the kiss. He’s surprisingly gentle, but barely-restrained passion radiates from him, making me shiver. His hands are on either side of my face, and I catch hold of his jacket, clinging to it as I melt into him. All rational thought vanishes. He’s positively intoxicating, and for those few short moments, it’s like we’re the only two people left in the world.

But it’s over too soon, and when Atlas pulls back, I can see that his walls have gone back up. He gently brushes his thumb over my cheekbone, seeming almost reluctant to move away, drinking me in with his green eyes like he can’t believe I’m even real. Tentatively, I reach up to touch his scar with my fingers as gently as I can, and he flinches, breaking eye contact with me.

“Atlas…” I quietly whisper.

He doesn’t respond, instead stepping away, his expression conflicted. Without another word, he turns around and disappears around the corner, leaving me to stare after him in shock.

Somewhere in the opposite direction, I hear the sound of retreating footsteps, but when I turn to see who it is, they’re already gone.

* * *

I wake up that night with the feeling of Atlas’ lips still lingering on mine. For a moment, I’m lost in the confusion and bliss of it, half-wondering if it was real this time, or the last time, or the time before that. It’s real for me, I know that now, but I don’t know where he is. It’s hard to process that a male who I thought hated me actually kissed me, and my internal conflict about my feelings is almost more than I can handle right now. I thought I didn’t like him and I could do this fake relationship thing. I thought he didn’t really like me. But now? Well, let’s just say the racing in my chest at the thought of his green eyes is enough to make me question everything.

I’m so distracted that I almost don’t notice the figure standing in the corner of my room. The dormitories aren’t exactly spacious—just big enough for a bathroom, a four-poster bed, and a desk—but I still only catch a glimpse of her eyes burning in the shadow of the desk in the corner. Startled, I suck in a breath, sitting bolt upright just as Addison steps into the moonlight streaming through the window. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” I demand, unable to keep the quiver of fear out of my voice. I’m still rattled from the werebear attack, and having Atlas’ psycho ex in my room isn’t doing good things for my nerves.

“You know, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked at night,” Addison says breezily, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Her blue eyes are cold when they meet mine. “Someone might come after you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I growl, wincing as I struggle out of bed, “but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s like three in the morning.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Addison replies coolly. “I was half-expecting to find Atlas curled up in bed here with you.” Her mouth twists into a sneer.

I gape at her. “You broke into my room to see if Atlas was here?”

“Oh, here we go again,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Playing the pretty little idiot, as if I’m the crazy one. As if I didn’t see what happened between the two of you today. I thought he’d fuck you and get you out of his system, but today… what I saw. Atlas never looked at me like that. “

The footsteps in the hallway outside the infirmary echo in the back of my mind. Fuck. I guess I should’ve figured it out by now; this girl always seems to be waiting for me whenever she thinks I’m alone.

I press my lips together, my eyes darting to the door. I’ll have to go around her if I want to get out… either that or scream for help. Fear courses through me as I take a step back, my ribs still throbbing at the movement. “What happened between Atlas and me is none of your damn business,” I snap, my fear hiding behind anger. “Now get out of my room before I—”

“Before you what?” Addison demands, advancing on me. “Attack me with the magic you don’t have? Call for my boyfriend to come and save you?”

“He’s not your boyf—”

“I’m not going to say this again, so listen closely,” she interrupts, her hand darting out to grab me by the throat. Freezing cold dark magic smokes up her arm, imbuing her with enough strength to lift me off the floor. “Stay away from Atlas. I don’t care what you think you have going on with him; he’s going to come back to me sooner or later, and you’ve been fucking with his head since day one. I am going to be his alpha female. No one else.”

“You’re crazy,” I spit, struggling to get her to let go as she lifts me higher. I don’t think she knows how strong she is, or how much pressure she’s putting on my throat.

Those two little words are my big mistake. Addison’s face goes as stony as a statue, and the rage seems to emit from her in waves. “What did you just say?” she demands.

“You’re—” I begin, but I can’t get the words out as more dark magic flows from her hand, filling my whole being as I gasp for breath. Terror washes over me as black tendrils leach out and constrict me, tightening until I’m enshrouded in impenetrable darkness. The fear is greater than anything I’ve felt before. This is the first time dark magic has been used on me with the intent to kill me. The first time I can’t see anything but darkness. This time Atlas isn’t here to intervene.

I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I close my eyes, flailing against the magic. In that moment, my mind is utterly consumed by it.

Then something happens, and at first I’m certain I’ve died.

White light illuminates the darkness. It radiates out around me, breaking up the smoke in a blaze of pale, glowing tendrils. She actually did it, I think wonderingly. She killed me. They always say there’s a bright light…

The next thing I know, the world around me is visible again, and I’m dropping suddenly to my bedroom floor. It’s so bright that I have to shield my eyes, and Addison shrieks as she stumbles back, her dark magic dissipating in an instant. As I stagger to my feet, more light radiates around the room, the window shattering from the energy and my furniture all shifting toward the door. “What did you do?” Addison screams, her hands over her face. “STOP!”

“Nothing!” I yell, my heart racing in my chest. The light seems to be everywhere, filling the entire room, and now my books, papers, and clothes have begun to lift off the ground, carried on platforms of the same glowing energy. The floorboards start to crack with light, right under my feet, until the cracks find the walls and lines of light spread up the them, pulling them apart.

Addison opens her eyes to stare at me with a mixture of horror and disbelief, and that’s when I realize the truth.

The light is coming from me.

Chapter Nineteen

“I’m telling you, Master, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Magnus is saying as he paces along the far side of Master Ombres’s office, his arms crossed. “She was lit up like a beacon. It damn near blinded me when I ran into the room.”

“And she put one of our best cadets in the infirmary,” Eiriana adds, placing a hand on her hip. She casts a wary look in my direction, and I actually can’t say I blame her. My skin is still glowing a little with a pale white light, but it seems to be fading the more time passes, thank god. Is this what I get for not being able to learn dark magic? Addison’s a bitch, don’t get me wrong, but if I’ve permanently fucked her up, I’m never going to be able to live it down.

I groan, putting my head in my hands. What a disaster. And by the looks of it, nobody around here has any idea what’s happened to me. Are they going to kick me out for this? I didn’t mean to do it, but still… What are Ivy and Tobias going to say when they find out?

What’s Atlas going to say? Whatever this thing is between us, is it about to come crashing down?

Master Ombres strolls over to me, her brows furrowed, and kneels down to examine me more closely. It takes everything I have not to flinch when she reaches for me, afraid some burst of white light is going to blast out at her the second she touches my skin. And in a sense, it does; as soon as her fingers make contact with my chin, she hisses in pain and pulls back, shaking her hand. “Shit,” she mutters before turning to the others. “Did either of you touch her?” Eiriana and Magnus look at each other and shake their heads. “It’s been centuries since I’ve witnessed this,” she continues, her gaze returning to me. “But there’s no denying it: This is light magic.”

My eyes shoot up from my lap, my brow furrowing. “But I thought that was just a—”

“Myth?” comes a new voice from the doorway.

We all whirl around at the same time to see Charles standing there. I’ve never been so relieved to see a familiar face, and I all but jump up from my chair. “I was starting to think the werebears got you,” I say dryly, only half-joking.

The older male chuckles. “They’ll have to do better than that to take me down,” he says. “You’d do a better job, though, I’d imagine, if what they’re saying is true.”

My shoulders slump. “And is it?”

Master Ombres nods. “I don’t know how it’s even possible, but… yes. This is light magic, if I’ve ever seen it. Why you’re suddenly showing a talent for it, though, I have no idea.”

“Well, what does this mean?” I demand, my heart beating faster. “It won’t affect my studies, will it?”

The other instructors exchange a look. “Not in a certain sense,” replies Magnus. Seeing my expression, he sighs, turning to the Master for backup.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “As you may have gathered from my… reaction back there,” she says, “light magic is directly incompatible with dark magic. They cancel each other out. While you’ll still retain your place at the Academy, learning our abilities is out of the question. I’m sorry.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and it takes everything I have not to start crying. I know, I know—I should be grateful. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that I’m worthy of something—first my pack, and now my place at the Wolf Witch Academy—and now I can finally do something.

But I’m still the odd one out, and it’s becoming clear that nothing I do—whether here or anywhere else—is going to change that.

“Hey.” Charles approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder as I slump back into my chair. “You heard the Master. This won’t affect your place here as a student.”

I snort. “What am I going to do to the werebears? Glow at them?”

That actually makes him chuckle. “You’ve still got your sense of humor, I see.”

I shake my head, but I can’t quite keep the smile off my face. “It’s pretty much the only thing I’ve got.”

“You’ll have to work to harness these new abilities,” Master Ombres tells me, back to business as usual. “It will be difficult, considering none of us is able to use light magic, but the principles are all the same as dark magic.” She shrugs her slim shoulders. “Hell, perhaps it may even make you an asset.”

“I do believe it will,” Charles says, prompting me to glance up at him. “I have the information you requested on the Blood Moon Pack, Master,” he continues, nodding to Master Ombres. “Your fears were right. There’s a large contingent of werebears just miles away from where they’ve made their encampment.”

Ombres swallows. “How many?”

“My men couldn’t get a good count, but by their guess, at least a dozen,” Charles replies. “Without warning, the pack will wander straight into their midst. Even though the wolves are nomads already, they won’t be able to outdistance them if they end up cornered.”

“And without Seth to protect them…” begins Eiriana.

“They’re like sitting ducks.”

I start in my seat as Atlas walks into the room, his shoulders tense and his expression unreadable. He stops abruptly when he sees me, his eyes narrowing and that same look of conflicted desire appearing on his face. I flush bright red, my stomach clenching at the thought of the kiss, just hours ago. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Charles raise an eyebrow, and I clear my throat.

“Apologies, Atlas,” says Master Ombres. “You’ve caught us in a bit of an… interesting situation.”

“ ‘Interesting’ how?” Atlas asks, crossing his arms. I don’t miss how he steps closer to me, like he would jump in front of me in a second if there is a threat.

“I guess it depends on if you think me having light magic counts as interesting,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

For a moment, Atlas is stunned into silence, pressing his lips together as his eyes go from the Master to Charles to me. “Addison Brighton attacked Ms. Arcturus in her dorm room earlier,” Magnus explains. “The fight must have activated some kind of latent light magic ability, but it’s not clear where it came from.”

Atlas is silent for a long pause, but no one in the room can miss the shimmering anger radiating from him. Is he mad at me for hurting Addison?

“Light magic isn’t supposed to exist,” Atlas eventually replies, not looking at me.

“You can understand our confusion, then,” Eiriana says.

I can only shrug my shoulders. “Once a freak, always a freak, I guess.”

“Yeah,” says Atlas cryptically, his eyes not leaving mine. “I guess.” He hesitates for a moment before coming over to me, standing defensively behind my chair. “So I take it you called me here to talk about my former pack?”

Master Ombres looks put-upon. “Look, Atlas, I know this isn’t ideal, but—”

“Isn’t ideal?” growls Atlas, and then his eyes widen in realization. “You’re planning to send me back there, aren’t you? To sort out this situation with the werebears.”

“You heard Charles,” reasons Magnus. “They’re on the move, and with Seth out of the way, your former pack’s last line of defense is gone. And considering how powerful your pack is—how much influence they wield among the werewolves—”

“We can’t afford to let them fall,” Master Ombres finishes for him. “Besides, you’ve told me for months that you want more real assignments.”

“That wasn’t—”

“I’m sorry, Atlas, but this is how it has to be. You’re the best student here, and with Addison in the hospital…”

Atlas scoffs. “What makes you think they’ll even let me protect them? I doubt they’re going to welcome me back with open arms after what happened. I doubt he will.”

“If they don’t want to be blindsided by the incoming werebear contingent,” replies Charles, “they’ll have to. And besides, you’ll have an asset with you, won’t you?” He gives Master Ombres a knowing look. “Or have I misread you after all these years, Alice?”

She grins. “You haven’t, Charles.” She turns to me. “Seeing as Atlas is your assigned mentor, and you’ve recently unlocked your magical potential, Nyx—”

Atlas tenses up. “No. No way.”

“Atlas—”

“She was attacked,” he growls, his eyes darting over to me. “She’s tired, she’s just activated a magic she doesn’t know how to use, and now you’re sending her straight into the lion’s den?” He shakes his head. “No. Not happening.”

Charles eyes him with an amused expression. “I’m surprised to see you so… protective of your mentee, Atlas,” he says.

Green eyes blazing, Atlas opens his mouth to reply, but that’s when I get to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I say, holding up a hand, “but am I hearing this right? You want me to go with Atlas? After I got my ass handed to me by one werebear, let alone a whole group of them?”

“That was before you awoke this new gift,” replies Master Ombres, as if it’s the simplest explanation in the world.

“But I don’t even know how to control it!”

“No one said you have to fight,” replies the Master. “In fact, I don’t expect you to. But light magic or no light magic, you’re still a student at this academy, and Atlas is still your partner. All mentees are expected to shadow their mentors on any special assignments and observe the ins and outs of protecting a pack. You had to know being given a task like this was a possibility.”

“Shit,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead. Now it all makes sense to me. Charles mentioned the day I arrived that not every student survives their time at the Wolf Witch Academy, but it’s only now that I’m starting to see why.

This all feels like a fever dream. Looking up, I see all of the others staring at me, including Atlas, who is fuming in Master Ombres’s direction. Sighing, I let my shoulders slump and plaster a halfhearted smile on my face. “Well, I guess I’d better hope I paid enough attention during all those strategy classes.”

Chapter Twenty

If we had to travel on foot, we would have taken forever to reach the Blood Moon Pack, situated thousands of miles away. As it stands, however, Atlas has dark magic at his disposal, which he puts to good use, creating another one of those levitating platforms, just like the one Charles used to save my life. Unencumbered by the pull of gravity, we zoom over the treetops, scouting for any telltale signs of either werewolves or werebears. He’s standing behind me with his arms wrapped protectively around me, and despite the height and speed. I cling to him, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. When we finally descend into a meadow northeast of the Academy hours later, I’m half-relieved and half-disappointed.

If you’d told me a few weeks ago that I would ever be feeling this way in relation to Atlas, I would’ve called you crazy.

“Come on,” Atlas says, letting go of me and immediately shifting into his wolf form. “We’re close; I have the scent already.”

“You know I’ll never be able to keep up with you on two feet,” I gripe, scanning the surrounding valley doubtfully.

Atlas eyes me for a moment and then drops to his front legs. “Get on,” he says, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I raise my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

His wolf eyes bore into mine, and after a moment, I sigh, crossing my arms. “You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”

“Not if we want to reach the encampment by nightfall.”

That’s enough to make me relent, and I clamber onto his back, clinging to his fur as he bounds off in pursuit of the trail. I do my best not to think about the fact that I’m quite literally riding Atlas, instead, turning my attention to just what kind of a welcome we’re in for. Atlas didn’t seem confident that they would take kindly to our arrival, but maybe if they understand how much danger they’re in…

I grimace, tightening my grip on Atlas. The image of Seth’s mangled body flashes through my mind, and it’s all I can do to pray that we don’t end up the same way. And if Charles is to be believed, that’s a very real possibility.

Eventually we arrive at what can only be the packs’ camp: a set of tents scattered in a loose cluster deep in the heart of the forest. Milling around the settlement are at least a dozen werewolves, and as the encampment extends deeper into the woods, I can make out even more going about their business. Most packs these days have settled into more permanent residences, a bit like my former pack, but there are still a select few who adhere more stringently to the Traditions, and the Blood Moon Pack is one of them. The sounds of grunts and cries filter over to us from a couple of sparring pairs, and elsewhere, I can see the form of someone who might be the healer tending to a juvenile with a wounded paw.

But the one thing they have in common is that they’re all staring at us, and their eyes practically burn holes into me as we move through the settlement. The recognition and hostility on their faces is impossible to ignore, as well as their confusion about why their former golden child is running through their camp with a stranger on his back. I have enough time to worry what they’ll think about the sight of me riding in on their exiled alpha heir prince, but then we come to a stop in front of a lanky blonde who’s leaning against a tree near the edge of the campsite. A guard, obviously. She straightens up when she sees us, her eyes flashing in the darkness as I slide off Atlas’ back. “Atlas.” There’s no love in her voice.

Atlas shifts back into his human form and takes a step forward. “Hello, Cassandra,” he says, crossing his arms.

The woman bristles and mirrors his posture. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Atlas stares her down, and in that moment, I feel like I understand everything I need to about why he was so hesitant to come back here. “I need to speak to my father.”

There’s a long moment of silence. “More of your magic business?” Cassandra asks, her voice dripping with disdain. “Did you come here to find your next convert, is that it?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Atlas snaps. “You know as well as I do what happened to Seth.”

Cassandra smirks. “No huge loss. Can’t say I expected much else, considering the way he insisted on inserting himself into our business. It was a mistake letting him in in the first place.” She turns to me, her eyes sweeping me up and down, and snorts. “Looks like you finally found a girlfriend who isn’t a complete airhead. Good for you.”

“Nice to meet—” I sarcastically begin.

Atlas cuts me off. “Pretty classy of you to talk about your own daughter that way,” he remarks, and then, pausing, he adds, “Not that I’d expect much more from you. Dad either, come to think of it.”

My mouth just about drops open. “Addison is your daughter?” I guess now I can understand where she gets her attitude from, although part of me can sympathize, as surprising as that is. I’d probably be a total bitch too, if my own mom talked about me like I was an idiot.

“How astutet of you,” Cassandra states sarcastically, turning to Atlas. “I take it back: This one’s no rocket scientist, either.”

“Leave her out of this,” Atlas snaps. “We don’t have all day.”

“No guarantees,” Cassandra fires back. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

“Like I should be that lucky,” Atlas growls as she turns and stalks back toward the circle of tents.

I turn to him once she’s out of earshot. “Why the hell are we helping these people again? They’re all jackasses.”

“It’s a necessary evil,” Atlas replies. “Look at how many others are here. If this pack falls, the werewolves lose their vanguard and… it was once my home.”

We both pause as I look him over. Home. It’s reason enough.

“So both your dad and Addison’s mom were willing to kick their own kids out?”

Atlas rubs the back of his neck. “Worse than that: They downright disowned us. I guess that’s why Addison and I got close for a while back there.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, in truth. Wolves get kicked out all of the time, but I don’t regret why I was rejected from my pack. I know Addison doesn’t either. We’d both do it again in a heartbeat.”

“There has to be a way to make them listen,” I reply, even when I’m itching to ask more about what he did. What Addison did too.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

It’s not long before the sound of crunching footsteps filters back to us, and seconds later, Cassandra returns to where we’re waiting. Trailing behind her, his expression one of utter disdain, is the man I can only assume is the alpha of the pack. There’s no mistaking his relationship to Atlas; the resemblance is uncanny, down to his green eyes, except his dark hair is streaked with gray, and there’s no scar on his cheek.

“Grant,” Atlas says, but there’s no love in it. That much is obvious, considering he’s addressing his father by his first name.

“Atlas.” His father, Grant, shakes his head.. “I guess I should’ve been expecting this.”

“Considering how long Seth has been dead…” Atlas scowls, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’d say you should’ve.”

“What do you want?” Grant demands, crossing his arms. “Or did you just come all this way to mouth off? Maybe ask us to let you back in?” His eyes drift over to me. “Who’s this?”

“She’s with me,” Atlas replies brusquely, moving so that he’s standing in front of me. “We’re here to talk about protection from the werebears.”

“Protection?” The alpha scoffs. “You saw how it went the last time your precious academy sent us their ‘protection.’ ”

I can see Atlas’ muscles tensing up. “That’s exactly why we’re here,” he says, his anger simmering. “The werebears are moving in on you, and I know from experience that you don’t have the numbers to fend them off yourselves. The Academy sent us to defend you.”

“Give me a fucking break,” his father spits. I’m tempted to chime in, but I’m pretty sure anything I say will just fuck the situation up more.

“Give you a break?” Atlas demands, taking a step forward. “We’re giving you a break, Dad. Handing it to you on a fucking silver platter. You and I both know the werebears will destroy this pack if they want to. We’re offering to help you, and you’re giving us shit about it?” He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “I knew this was going to happen.”

“You really think you know how to protect this pack better than I do?” Grant retorts, approaching Atlas and staring down at him with menacing eyes.

Alpha assholes and their overprotective bullshit.

Atlas doesn’t back away. “I know I do.”

“Then I guess you’re more of an idiot than I thought,” his father fires back. “Just like the last one they sent.”

“Seth wasn’t—”

“Your academy sent him to us,” his father growls, “and we graciously accepted his protection because, despite what you seem to think, we understand the severity of the werebear problem. I allowed him to stay to avoid a possible diplomatic incident with your organization, but if you think you can walk all over the Traditions while your little Wolf Witch Bitch here watches—”

“Don’t you ever speak about her like that,” Atlas hisses, his voice dangerously low. “She’s one of us.”

I duck my head, swallowing.

“Right, sure.” Grant snorts. “Because one of you wasn’t enough. Your kind make a mockery of our ways, and you expect us to just embrace you with open arms?”

“Wolf Witches don’t defy the Traditions!”

“Are you sure about that?” his father replies with a dry laugh. “Our power is our transformation, and we embrace no other,” he recites. “That’s the very first tenet on the list. If you and the other rejects want to go experiment with your witchcraft, be my guest. But don’t drag my pack into your madness. I’ve seen what happens when your Wolf Witches are under threat: They run back home with their tails between their legs, just like Seth did. He said he was going on patrol and never came back.”

“Seth didn’t abandon you,” I finally blurt, unable to keep silent any longer. I know I shouldn’t be muscling in on what is clearly a familial dispute, but I can’t help it when so many other lives are at risk. “He must have been coming back to warn the Academy, so we could send your pack the reinforcements you need.”

“She speaks!” Grant exclaims with mock enthusiasm. “Listen, girl, I don’t know who you are, and frankly, I don’t care. You don’t have permission to speak in my presence.”

“That’s a mistake,” I snap, my temper getting the better of me. “If you don’t accept our help, the werebears will hand you your asses on a plate, and that’s just a fact. And that’s coming from someone who sucks at everything the Academy teaches us.”

Grant snorts, unimpressed. “Well, at least you’re honest, for all the good it’ll do you. The fact that my degenerate son is going to bat for you is proof enough that you aren’t worth my time.” He rounds on Atlas. “That goes for you too, Atlas. Get out of my pack.” His words are dripping with malice.

Atlas shakes his head, backing up a step. “I guess it was too much to hope that you’d changed.”

“I guess it was,” his father agrees without sympathy. “Now get out of my sight. Tell your academy we can take care of ourselves this time.”

He turns on his heel and disappears into the trees, Cassandra following him with a last disparaging look over her shoulder.

No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.

* * *

“Are you all right?” I ask, biting the inside of my lip. I know it’s a ridiculous question, but I’ve been holding back from asking it all evening, and by now I can’t resist any longer.

Atlas heaves a sigh, leaning back and craning his neck to look up at the night sky. Overhead, the moon is full, lighting the whole world up with an eerie glow. We’ve made camp in a clearing about half a mile away from the rest of the Blood Moon Pack; it’s as close as we can comfortably get without bringing on more of their wrath. I wasn’t exactly expecting a warm reception, but I hadn’t been anticipating something as disdainful as we were given.

Atlas doesn’t respond right away, but his expression is tumultuous as he gazes up at the moon. My heart goes out to him, and I drop into the grass by his side. We haven’t spoken much since the fight, and I’m tempted to stay silent, but his eyes are burning with a kind of frustration I’ve never seen before. “Hey,” I say gently, touching his arm. “You okay?”

Atlas flinches at my touch, like he’s forgotten that I’m here, but then he relaxes a little, although he still isn’t looking at me. Touching him, even like this, is a small test in self-control. “About as much as you can expect,” he says, but his voice is thoughtful as he returns his gaze to the moon. I start to pull my hand away, but he catches hold of it, his touch making my skin tingle and my stomach flutter.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I figured it would be bad, but I didn’t think…” I sigh. “I guess I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

Atlas grunts. “Neither do they.”

We sit there in silence for a moment, and it’s embarrassing how easily the simple feel of his hand on mine can make my heart beat so quickly. “Thank you,” I murmur.

Atlas turns to me, his eyebrows furrowing. “For what?”

I swallow, my face heating up. “For defending me earlier. It couldn’t have been easy, not against your own dad.”

To my surprise, Atlas doesn’t look away, his expression softening. “How could I not, Nyx?” he asks.

The intensity of his gaze is enough to make my breath hitch, and I clear my throat, aware of how close he is to me. We haven’t done anything in a while, and despite everything that’s at stake, I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

Overwhelmed, I clear my throat. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly nervous, I blurt out, “Why did your pack kick you out?”

Atlas hesitates, and for a moment, I’m terrified that he’s going to close off again. Instead, he presses his lips together, looking thoughtful. “Have you ever noticed how resistant werewolves are to change?”

I fidget. “You’re talking about the Traditions.”

“Mm.” He nods. “You heard what he said back there. He rejects help that could save his pack because it breaks some idiotic, outdated rules that have existed for centuries. Who gives a shit if we go against the Traditions? Isn’t it better not to get massacred by the werebears?” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“You’ve got a point,” I reply. “My family always hated the Traditions. They never agreed with them.”

“Most werewolves don’t,” Atlas remarks. “But who has the ability to change things? Only the alphas.”

I nod slowly, leaning back as I put the pieces together. “You were going to be the next alpha,” I say quietly. The implication is clear.

Atlas nods. “I had always been against the Traditions, and I was never afraid to say so. I was ready to change the way things were done to protect my pack.” He shakes his head. “They rejected me because they knew I wanted to change things, Addison with me. She wanted more freedom for females and for them to have a choice in whether they wanted a mate.”

I can hardly believe my ears. “They kicked you out of your own pack for that?” He nods, and my mouth drops open. “And your own father…”

“You heard him back there. He stopped caring about me a long time ago.” Atlas gives a dry chuckle. “Besides, why wouldn’t he kick me out? I’m a direct threat to him, an heir he didn’t want, born from a one night stand with a female who died in childbirth. Rejection is one of his precious Traditions and an easy excuse for him to get rid of me.”

I shake my head. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all I can think of to say.

Atlas turns to me, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “At least there’s a silver lining,” he says, and there’s nothing sarcastic about his next words. “If I hadn’t been rejected, I wouldn’t have met you.”

My cheeks flame bright red, and I’m the first one to look away. “Don’t give me too much credit,” I mutter. “I’m just a girl with light powers who can’t shift.”

“That’s exactly what makes you special and fucking addictive, Nyx. You were named after a goddess of the night, and I swear to the gods every time I look at the night sky, I only see you.” Atlas shifts closer to me, and when he touches my cheek to make me look at him, my stomach ties up in a knot.

“Do you really believe that?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest.

Atlas nods.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, and I can only bask in the feeling of his touch. “I spent so long trying to deny it,” Atlas replies, his tone serious as he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “but I can’t anymore.” He leans in, now so close that I can feel his gentle breath on my face, and the heat of his body radiating onto mine.

“Deny what?” I whisper.

Atlas doesn’t reply, instead pulling me into a kiss, and I melt into him.

Chapter Twenty-One

We stumble into his tent, breathless, so caught up in the moment that nothing else seems to matter. The second kiss has lit a fire in both of us, and only our frantic touches are enough to put it out. It was never like this—all the other times I came close to going further with a male lacked the frantic passion that suffuses me and Atlas. It’s like all the unspoken words, all the tension that’s been brewing between us since our first meeting, is coming to a head, and this time there’s no resisting it.

Atlas continues to kiss me, his movements hungry and passionate as his arms snake around me and pull me flush against his body. I reach up, tangling my hands in his hair as his tongue brushes against my lips, his hips pressing against mine. I can feel his arousal through his jeans, and it sends a wave of heat through my lower body that settles between my legs. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs against my lips, one hand playing at the hem of my shirt. “I’m done pretending this isn’t real.”

“Atlas—” I gasp as he lowers his lips to my neck, kissing the skin there hard enough to leave a mark and filling me with a desire I’ve never felt before.

We sink to the floor, where he earlier heaped his sleeping bag amidst a pile of blankets. I fumble my shirt off, but as Atlas tugs at his own, he hesitates. “Nyx,” he says quietly, “is this what you want?”

“Yes,” I breathe, running my hands down his toned chest. “God, yes.”

Atlas stares at me hungrily for another moment, searching my face with his green eyes, and then pulls off his shirt, pressing his chest to mine. Deftly, he unhooks my bra, tossing it aside in one quick movement. His eyes burn in the low light as he drinks in the sight of me, and I shiver, my face flaming red. I’ve never been this naked in front of a male before, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. I mean he saw me once, but I had my dress on and now he can see all of me.

“You’re so beautiful,” Atlas murmurs, dropping his lips to my neck once more as his hands work the button of my jeans.

Tentatively, I let my hand drop to the spot between his legs, feeling the size of him and prompting him to hiss with pleasure. “Fuck, Nyx—” He practically tears the rest of our clothes off, peppering me with kisses as he lays me down on the makeshift bed. Desire wells within me, and I’m already wet by the time he urges my legs apart with his hand.

“I…” I swallow hard, suddenly embarrassed, which is ridiculous considering I’m naked underneath him. “You know I’ve never…”

Atlas blinks, conflict and pure masculine pride on his handsome face. “Fuck, I’m lucky. You’re so goddamn beautiful, Nyx.”

I take a breath, reaching up to brush my thumb over the scar on his cheek. “‘I’m yours. Real. This is real for me,” I reply, and I mean it. For all his anger, all his brooding, he’s never once hurt me—not when we spar, not when we train, not when he brought me to the infirmary or carried me on his back earlier today. And that means more than he knows.

His lips hover over mine, like his entire body, as one word growls out of his mouth, sending shivers down my spine. “Mine.”

Atlas watches me for a moment longer, his hands lingering on my thighs, and then nods, shifting so that he’s between my legs. His movements are almost agonizingly slow as he eases into me, giving me time to adjust to his large cock as I writhe in pleasure beneath him. Whatever pain there is, it’s gone in seconds and there is only him. When he starts to move, it’s like an electric shock that jolts up through my belly, and as he finds his rhythm,

He grips my neck, tilting my head up so our eyes are locked. “I’ve thought about—”

He thrusts deep, making me moan, my eyes flickering shut. “Look at me, Nyx. Look at me as I take your sweet pussy as my own. As I claim you. As I fill you. No one is ever going to be what we are. You’re mine.”

I open my eyes, letting him claim my soul along with my body, baring every part of me. “And you’re mine, Atlas.”

He growls his agreement, leaning down and kissing me as he thrusts harder, deeper, stroking me into oblivion with every movement. His hand snakes between us, finding my clit, and rubbing me in small circles until I’m clutching to him, matching his thrusts with my own, chasing the promised pleasure.

Digging my nails into his back, I lose myself in a growing wave of pleasure that’s so intense it’s almost painful. We lose ourselves in each other, our bodies becoming one on the tent floor, Atlas’ lips connecting with mine as he picks up the pace. I cling desperately to him as the pleasure continues to build, until finally I explode with a trembling gasp as my orgasm crashes down on me.

Atlas comes moments later, bucking into me once, twice, three times, before his hips finally still, his kisses slowing as he opens his eyes to watch me. “Nyx. Nyx. Nyx.”

We stare at each other, my body trembling as much as his. Both of us speechless.

Atlas pulls out of me, making me shiver with pleasure, and rolls to the side, pulling me onto his chest as we bask in the aftermath.

I can hear his heart beating in his chest, and Atlas absently runs his hand through my hair, each of us catching our breath as we process our emotions. The questions hang in the air between us: What does this mean for us? He’s my mentor; has this thrown our dynamic into jeopardy? What will the others at the Academy think if they find out?

My head is spinning so much that I don’t even notice Atlas looking at me curiously, like he’s never seen me before in his life. His absent stroking of my arm has paused, and his brows are furrowed as he leans back. “You’re glowing, Nyx,” he tells me.

I turn to him, my cheeks flaming red. “I guess the afterglow is a real thing, huh?”

He shakes his head. “No, I mean, you’re actually glowing.”

Startled, I glance down at myself, and my eyes go wide. He’s right. My entire body has lit up with a pale, otherworldly light, like I’ve suddenly been turned into the world’s brightest nightlight. “What the hell?” I scramble to sit up, the blanket falling away, and the light grows even brighter. “What the fuck? What’s happening?” I feel a surge of fear at the prospect of summoning something more intense, like I did when Addison attacked me, and the idea of hurting Atlas is absolutely terrifying. “How do I turn it off?” I exclaim, panic creeping into my voice.

I look at Atlas, but to my surprise, he doesn’t seem bothered. To the contrary, he’s actually smiling, a full, amused grin unlike anything I’ve ever seen him wear before. “What?” I ask, giving him a playful shove. “It’s not funny!”

Atlas actually laughs at that, and the sound works its way down to my belly, making me shiver. “You’re cute when you get flustered,” he says. “Cuter when you’re naked and making me hard again.”

I can’t help laughing back, giving him a playful shove. “Don’t point it out,” I protest. “I thought we were supposed to be acting all romantic!”

“Who says this isn’t romantic?” Atlas asks, his tone going serious again. “You’re beautiful, Nyx. Like…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Like the sun, or something.”

He’s right; the light is only growing brighter. As I settle back into the comfort of his arms, it occurs to me that maybe it’s connected to my emotions somehow, the same way dark magic is supposed to be connected to memories of hurt and rejection. Sure, I wasn’t happy when I had my last run-in with Addison, but I had been riding the high of Atlas’ kiss. Could it be that the light magic comes out in the aftermath of positive moments?

By now the light is so bright that I have to squint, and it’s blazing through the canvas of the tent like a beacon. It isn’t until too late that it dawns on me to be worried, alarm bells going off in the back of my mind as I bask in the literal glow of my affection for Atlas.

Wait, if the werebears are looking for the Blood Moon pack—

That’s all I have time to think. As if on cue, the sounds of chaos erupt from outside the tent, coming, of course, from the direction of the pack encampment.

“Is that—” I begin.

“Fuck,” Atlas swears, scrambling up from the makeshift bed and rushing to grab his clothes. “Something’s happening.”

I follow his lead, hurrying to get dressed as he unzips the flap and steps outside. “Shit,” he breathes.

“What is it?” I demand, my glow faltering as I rush outside.

“The werebears,” Atlas says. “They’re here.”

We don’t even bother to pack up our camp. Atlas shifts into his wolf form, and this time I don’t need telling twice to clamber onto his back. We race out of the clearing and into the trees, following the sounds of a skirmish in the direction of his former pack. My mind races with questions: How close could they have been to have arrived so suddenly? Have they been waiting for their chance to strike? Were we wrong to give the pack such a wide berth when we camped out?

I don’t have time to ponder it, because at that moment we burst through the trees into the clearing. There’s carnage everywhere, and in the middle of it is a small army of werebears. The wolves have descended on them and are fighting them tooth and claw, but it doesn’t take a genius to see they’re outmatched.

I jump down from Atlas’ back. “Get behind me,” he growls, his fur already swimming with the telltale tendrils of dark magic.

“Drive them back!” I hear one of the werewolves yell, heading a charge of three more pack members, who descend on the nearest werebear. He swipes out with one massive paw, sending one of them flying away with a yelp.

Atlas stands protectively in front of me, the swirling energies around him deflecting an oncoming blow from the werebear. I notice a couple of the others shoot him confused and hostile glances, but the mayhem is too much for them to give us any shit right now.

To my left, another werebear is charging toward a circle of tents, where Grant and Cassandra are only just now shifting into their wolf forms. The rest of the pack members are busy with the other werebears, and the two of them are wide open.

Frantic, I dig deep and search for the power I now know resides within me. The administrators said that in theory it’s just like summoning dark magic, but in practice, there’s no way of knowing… especially considering I’ve never even successfully done that. All I can do is reach for the bliss leftover from making love to Atlas and hope I can unleash it the way I did with Addison.

Extending my arms, I lean into the feeling and watch with wide eyes as a ball of white light begins to form between my palms. My excitement only makes it bigger, and when it’s the size of a watermelon, I hurl it in the direction of the advancing werebear. It strikes him squarely in the flank, and he roars with pain, rounding on me. “Wolf Witch,” he growls, extending an enormous paw.

I leap out of the way, struggling to summon more magic, but it’s hard to dodge and concentrate at the same time. Light flickers around me, and out of the corner of my eye I’m aware of the other defending pack members glancing my way in shock.

That’s when the beast’s flying paw catches me in the torso, sending me stumbling away, and I lose my focus.

“Nyx!” Atlas yells from where he’s holding off the other werebear.

“The alpha!” I shout, one hand on my aching chest as I point desperately in Grant’s direction.

Atlas disengages and bounds back a step, tendrils of dark magic extending all around his wolf form as he glances toward his father. From the same direction, the alpha’s bodyguard is sent flying, tossed by a pair of massive bear jaws.

I straighten up and sprint toward the alpha, the sounds of battle all around me. Adrenaline surges through my body, and all I can think is how much I wish I could shift right now. Gritting my teeth and pushing away my fear, I start to summon another blast of light magic… Only to hear Atlas grunt in pain.

I whirl around in time to see that three werebears have Atlas pinned under their paws, crushing down on him with unimaginable force and his dark magic is like a shield of shadows, holding them back. Atlas gasps for breath, his dark magic force field faltering as he sends a tendril of magic to me, protecting me from danger. He is watching me still, not the alpha or the werebear attacking him. Just me.

I’m his distraction, and it’s only to get us all killed.

They are going to kill him, I think, and at that moment, nothing else matters. I hurl a bolt of light magic at the werebear, screaming as it leaves my hands feeling burnt, and it hits all three of them, sending them flying away from Atlas. I race over to him, overcome with fear as I look at his ripped shirt, his broken arm, and a dagger sticking out of his lower waist. “Are you okay?” I ask, scrambling to help him to his feet as he pulls the dagger out like it’s nothing.

“They are fucking with my power somehow,” he admits with a growl.

Clutching his side, Atlas stands up, but then his eyes settle on something behind me, and he clenches his jaw.

I turn to see what he’s looking at, and my heart plummets. The spot where Grant was cornered is empty, a trail of blood leading off into the woods away from the campsite.

We just lost the alpha.

Chapter Twenty-Two

My heart jumps into my throat, and I whirl around just in time for Atlas to take my hand in his. Around us, the carnage is undeniable. Wounded werewolves are scattered everywhere, some still shifted and some not. It’s a clear illustration of just how fucked we are as a species going up against the werebears, and that’s with my light magic and Atlas’ dark magic on our side.

For a brief moment, I wonder if it’s all going to start up again, but then the werebears start to retreat, tearing off into the forest with a speed belied by their size. I start to move in the direction of the blood trail, but Atlas pulls back on my hand, still breathing hard from his near-miss. “Don’t,” he pants. “They’re gone. It’s over.”

“Damn right, it’s over,” comes a familiar voice, and I turn to see Cassandra stalking over to us, her hands clenched at her sides. “What the fuck did you do?”

“What did we do?” I exclaim, rounding on her. “What the fuck did you do? We could have been preparing for an attack during the time we lost because of you people. If you hadn’t been stubborn assholes about it—”

But she’s already shaking her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” she snaps. “We saw the light.”

“What…?” I begin, only to grow pale as the implication falls on me like a ton of bricks.

“There was a glow in the forest,” Cassandra replies, seething. “As light as a lighthouse beacon, except it was going up, not out. And do you know what the strangest thing was?” she adds, advancing on me. “It was coming from the exact direction you came from. Almost like it was coming from your camp.”

“That’s not…” I begin, but I trail off. There’s nothing I can say to deflect her, because it makes a perfect, horrible kind of sense: How else would the werebears have been able to get the jump on their pack, especially given how loud and cumbersome they are? They would have needed time to pin them down… Unless they had something guiding them to this exact location.

Something like, for example, a girl who lights up like the sun without realizing it.

“Enough,” Atlas says, inserting himself between the two of us. “That’s beyond bullshit, Cassandra. You can try to deflect blame all you want, but if my father had let us stay when we first arrived, they wouldn’t have gotten the drop on you. The only people at fault here are you guys.”

“Sure, get up on your high horse,” she snaps. “It’s not like you have anything to lose, right?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Our alpha is gone, and it’s all your fault.”

“Fuck that,” Atlas says, his shoulders hunching in anger.

“No,” I say quietly, wrapping my arms around myself. “She’s right, Atlas. This one is on me.”

“How can you say that?” he demands, turning to me. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“I was the one who lit up, not you, and not them,” I insist. “You can’t say I’m not at least partly responsible.” Frustration welling up inside me, I shake my head, looking away. “Even now that I can do magic, I still manage to fuck up everything. Maybe I deserved to be rejected more than I thought.”

“Hey, look at me,” Atlas says, pulling my face up so I’m looking him in the eyes. “You can’t put this all on yourself, Nyx. Believe me. I’ve been there.”

“But—”

“I watched you in that fight,” he tells me quietly. “You saved my life, Nyx. You say you’re not worth your gifts, but what I just saw tells me a different story.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I would’ve died back there. You know that, right?”

“Atlas…” I murmur as he runs his thumb over my lips, my heart swelling so big in my chest that it feels like it’s going to burst. How could I have gone from hating him to this in so little time?

We’re interrupted by the sound of oncoming footsteps and look up to see the rest of the Blood Moon Pack gathering around Cassandra, and it’s clear just how battered they are from the fight. All around us are wounded werewolves, struggling to stand or sprawled out on the ground, and it’s hard to tell how many of them are still alive.

“Fuck,” she says, running a hand through her hair as she turns to one of the other guards. “How many of us are left?”

“Uninjured?” He shrugs his shoulders and looks around. “It’s hard to say. I won’t be able to do a full headcount until Matthias finishes his rounds.”

“No,” she snaps, shaking her head. “That’s not good enough. If we have any shot at getting Grant back, we have to move now.”

“Just so the werebears can tear us apart again?” the guard shakes his head. “That’s not possible, Cassandra. We have to cut our losses while we still can. If Grant isn’t dead already, he soon will be. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Shit,” Atlas mutters, turning to me. “This is bad.”

“What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do,” he replies, shrugging his broad shoulders. “We report back to the Academy and explain what happened. They’ll send reinforcements, and by then the pack will have chosen an alternate alpha. That means we’ll need to—”

But I’m already shaking my head, my own hands clenching into fists. “No.”

Atlas stares at me. “Nyx,” he says, shaking his head, “we have no other choice.”

“Yes we do. We always do. He’s your father, and I’m not about to just throw in the towel. Not until we know what’s happened to him.”

“Listen,” he says, taking my shoulders, “we can’t afford to risk another tactical blunder, Nyx. Not now that…” He swallows, and when he speaks again, I can hear the conflict in his words. “I…” His voice breaks, and he looks away. “I can’t afford to risk you, too.”

I blink, staring up at him, feeling the emotions pouring off of him in a torrent. They may never have gotten along, I realize, but they were still father and son. There was love there, even if the hate overpowered it. I’m not sure if even Atlas realizes that, but it doesn’t matter; I can see it in his green eyes, in the uncertainty and confusion that now burns behind his anger.

I may be his mentee, but in that moment, it occurs to me that I have a responsibility to him, too, one that goes beyond following his instructions and accompanying him on assignments. It’s a feeling that boils deep in my gut, an instinct as inborn as the magic that now flows through me. And if I’m going to be a Wolf Witch, I’m going to have to learn to listen to it.

I reach up to touch Atlas’ cheek, and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reassurance. “You won’t,” I tell him simply, taking him by the hand. “Now come on. We’re going after those bastards. One way or another, we’re getting your alpha back.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Blood Moon camp recedes into the distance as Atlas carries me deeper into the woods, his snout to the ground as he follows the werebear’s trail. The blood has by now long gone, and he’s moving based on scent alone. I can only hope he’s as good a tracker as he is a Wolf Witch. He keeps his snout low to the ground, his green eyes narrowed in concentration as he follows the scent. Even in his wolf form, I can sense his doubt. It’s amazing to me how keenly attuned I’ve become to Atlas’ moods, even after so little time.

At least his former pack didn’t try to stop us. Thank god for small favors, or whatever. Or they want us dead, which is more than likely. I have no earthly idea what’s waiting for us at the end of the trail, or whether we’ll even find Grant alive, but I’m not about to voice those doubts now. I can’t go back to the Academy without at least having tried.

It’s an hour before we start trending west, the trees around us beginning to give way. After two hours, the vegetation recedes altogether, and through the branches in front of us, I can make out the shapes of buildings in the distance. The werebears seem to have leveled an entire section of the forest, leaving a multi-acre patch of land on which they’ve built a series of lodges. It can’t be long after midnight, and most of the commune appears to be indoors, plumes of smoke trailing lazily out of the chimneys and into the cloudless sky.

“A settlement?” I ask, sliding off Atlas’ back. “I thought most werebears were nomadic.”

“That’s what I’ve always heard,” Atlas says as he shifts back into human form. “No wonder they had such an easy time with the Blood Moon Pack; they might as well have walked straight into their encampment.”

“What do we do?” I ask.

Atlas turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

A surge of nerves rushes through my stomach. “Am I hallucinating, or did you just ask me to be in charge?”

Atlas winks, but he can’t quite mask the affection in his words. “Consider this an evaluation, if it makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.” I peer between the branches once more. “There are guards out there,” I say, pointing to a cluster of figures standing around the firepit. Still on the heels of the last skirmish, I can’t help imagining what kind of hell they would cause if they transformed.

“This couldn’t have been that easy, could it?” Atlas steps forward, holding out an arm to keep me from moving into the light. “Look,” he adds, nodding in the direction of one of the smaller buildings: This one is set apart from the others, windowless, and it’s flanked by two others, each of them looking decidedly put off. “My father’s trail ends there.”

I turn to him. “Do you think…?”

Atlas’ expression hardens. “If he’s still alive, he’s in there.” He shakes his head, dismayed. “I just can’t figure out what they want with him. They’ve never taken prisoners before.”

“Only one way to find out, right?” My eyes dart from the guards outside to the ones around the campfire. “Preferably without causing another full-blown fight.”

“I can get in there,” Atlas says, squaring his shoulders. “It might be easier just to destroy the building, but if I can take the guards out—”

“What?” I exclaim. “No way. If anyone’s walking into the line of fire, it’s me.”

“Nyx,” Atlas says, turning to me. “Don’t. I don’t want you getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt.”

“And I don’t want you getting hurt,” I fire back. “This was my idea in the first place. No. If you’re going, I’m going, and don’t bother to argue.” I smirk at him. “I’m sure you’ve figured out I can be stubborn when I want to and you’d have to tie me up to make me stay.”

“Don’t threaten me with a sexy idea,” he purrs in my ear. My whole body burns as I turn to him, and I gulp.

Atlas looks away at the pack, and sighs before he turns to me. “All right, doll,” he says, chuckling a little, pausing long enough to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “We do this together.” He frowns, thinking for a moment, and then continues, “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

* * *

We move quickly but quietly as we stalk through the forest, Atlas in his wolf form and me creeping along beside him. I don’t dare call on my light magic while we’re under the cover of darkness; if we want to avoid another battle, we can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves. Skirting the edge of the encampment, we approach the outlying building from the back, anticipating every snapping branch and crunching leaf under our feet.

“No rear entrance,” I whisper, turning to Atlas.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, the first wisps of dark magic already gathering in his pitch-black fur. I watch with bated breath as they form two cohesive strands, snaking hauntingly through the air and around the sides of the building. Atlas closes his eyes in concentration, pulls back slightly, and then the two guards come flying out from the front of the hut, cocooned in shadowy tendrils. From amidst the darkness, I can hear their muffled grunts and shouts of protest, but the magic dampens the sound, at least for the time being. Striding over to the one on the right, I brace myself before plunging my hand into the freezing darkness, searching his pockets and turning up a keyring and looking at Atlas. He nods in encouragement.

I don’t have any time to waste. Swallowing my fear (and there’s a lot of it), I start forward, only for Atlas to whisper, “Nyx, wait.”

I turn to him, my heart pounding. “We don’t have time,” I protest.

“I know,” he replies. “I just wanted you to know that—”

But that’s when a muffled thud comes from inside the hut, followed by a grunt of pain. I recognize Grant’s voice.

Adrenaline surging, I take off toward the hut, slowing to a walk as I approach the front door. I can feel Atlas’ eyes on me from in the shadows, and less than a hundred yards away, the remaining guards are still standing around the fire. Praying none of them look in my direction, I try the handle of the front door. Locked.

“Shit,” I whisper, fumbling through the keyring. There must be one for every building in this godforsaken compound, and I’m clearly visible from the firepit. Frantically, I begin trying the keys one after another, my hands shaking. A burst of boisterous laughter nearly makes me jump out of my skin. All it will take is one of them glancing in my direction…

Come on, come on, come on.

I could almost cry with relief when the fifth key I try finally slides home. The lock clicks, I push the door open, and the next moment, I’m standing inside the shed, the door dropping shut behind me.

I barely have time to register my surroundings before a hand is closing around my throat, another striking me squarely in the nose and making me cry out in pain. I collapse to the floor in a heap, my eyes watering as I take in the sight of a redheaded werebear in human form towering over me. “Who the fuck are you?” he demands, already winding up for another kick.

“H-hiker,” I stammer, mind racing as I wipe the blood from my nose. “I’ve been backpacking up the coast, but I got off the trail.” Licking my lips, I glance behind him. There, crumpled up in the corner, is Grant. He’s groaning in pain, blood seeping from his wound, but to my astonishment, the gash seems to have been dressed. His eyes go wide with recognition when they land on me, and for a moment, I’m sure he’s going to protest, but he stays silent, his gaze searing into mine. “You’re the first people I’ve seen in days,” I add, turning back to the guard.

“Bullshit,” the man snaps. “Where are Morgan and Bruce?”

“I—” I begin, but he’s already shifting, bristles of red fur rippling down his back and up his arms.

There isn’t time to think. Drawing on the feeling that filled me when I was with Atlas, I summon as much light magic as I can, leaning into the sensation without any semblance of a plan. All I know is that if he sounds the alarm, it’s all over—not just for me, but for Atlas, too. I can feel Atlas’ using his magic, knocking out all of the guards in the shadows, clearing the way for me.

Five blindingly bright light magic tendrils emerge from me, slamming into the werebear with enough force to pull him out of his transformation. Crying out, he claps his hands over his eyes and falls to the floor, just in time for me to stride over to him and drop into a grappling guard, just like I practiced all those times with Atlas. Keeping him in place with my magic, I press my arm to his throat, leaning in until his thrashing stops and he falls back, unconscious.

The only problem? I’m still glowing like a damn lighthouse beacon, and the light is only getting brighter with the surge of triumph at having gotten this far. I steal a glance at the door; any minute now, the rest of the werebears are going to notice the missing guards. There’s no time to wait for the light to die down like it did after the attack.

I stare down at my glowing skin, mind racing. If positive feelings activate the light magic…

Thinking fast, I grit my teeth and touch my wounded nose. As much as it hurts, it doesn’t feel broken. Not yet, at any rate. Taking a deep breath, I wind back my arm and then slam it into my injured face, pain exploding through my nose as more blood gushes down my chin. I embrace the pain, basking in the agony of it, ready to hit myself again if necessary. But that seems to do the trick; the light begins to dim—slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the throbbing continues to pulse through my skull. I guess this will work in a pinch, until I find a better way of turning down the light when I need to.

Getting unsteadily to my feet, the magic continuing to dwindle, I stagger over to Grant. “Come on,” I tell him. “We have to go.”

Grant is still shielding his eyes from the light. “What the fuck are you?”

I can only shake my head and extend a hand to him. “I’m a Wolf Witch and here to save your alpha royal highness ass.”

* * *

We steal back into the shadows of the trees, Grant leaning heavily on me as he clutches his wounded torso. Atlas is waiting for us, still maintaining his spell on the guards. His wolf eyes widen when he spots us, and he shifts back into his human form. “Nyx,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “What happened? What did they do to you?” he asks, wiping some of the blood from my lips. He turns to his father, eyes flashing. “I swear to god, if you had anything to do with—”

“I didn’t,” Grant snaps. “She did it to herself.”

Atlas stares at me incredulously. “What the hell, Nyx?”

“It’s a long story,” I reply sheepishly, glancing over my shoulder at the encampment. “Probably best if we discuss it somewhere that’s not here.” I nod at the guards. “What do we do with them?”

“I’ll maintain the spell until we’re out of range,” Atlas replies as we start off into the woods. “After that, they’ll raise the alarm, if no one has already.” Turning to his father, he adds coldly, “I suggest you and your pack be long gone by then.”

“Believe me, we will,” Grant replies. “If I’d known they had a whole fucking compound waiting for us, I never would have brought the pack here.” He shakes his head, wincing.

“What did they want with you?” Atlas asks.

Grant’s expression darkens. “They were asking about Wolf Witches. Where you’re based, how your powers work, all that shit. I told them to go to hell.”

Atlas raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t tell them about the Academy?”

“Why would I?” his father fires back. “It’s of no benefit to the pack.”

“And here I was thinking you would sell us out just to spite me.”

Grant turns to him. “I know when to shut up,” he says. “That’s something you could stand to learn, Atlas.”

I feel Atlas go tense beside me, but I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Do you need help getting back to your pack?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.

Grant scoffs. “You’ve given me all the help I’m going to accept for one night. Probably for a lifetime.” As we come to a stop a safe distance from the encampment, he turns to us, his brows furrowed. “Thank you,” he says, his tone serious. “Both of you,” he adds stiffly, his eyes moving to Atlas. “I can’t pretend to agree with what you Witches do, but you may have saved lives tonight. I know for a fact you’ve saved mine.”

“That’s what we do,” Atlas says, giving him a stiff nod as we retreat. “Take care of yourself, Father.”

“You too, kid,” Grant replies, raising a weak hand to us. Then he’s turning to leave, and within moments, he’s disappearing between the trees.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“So the bears have finally grown brains.” Master Ombres snorts, shaking her head. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

We’re sitting around the table in one of the conference rooms on the ground floor, usually meant for debriefing the senior Wolf Witches. I’ve never been in here before, but I’ll take it over her velvet-trimmed office any day; at least I’m not the center of attention in here. Charles is on one side, flanked by five other scouts, and his expression is drawn and uncomfortable. Atlas and I are seated on the other side, and although it’s reassuring to have him here, I’d do anything to be able to let my guard down around him. I’m still not sure what the protocol is for sleeping with your mentor, but my guess is that it’s generally frowned upon around here. Either way, I’m not about to try my luck now, not with the Master looking fit to be tied. I’m not sure if they even know, when his scent must be all over me.

Ombres turns to the scouts. “Have you heard of anything like this?”

“Never,” says one of them, shaking his head. “That’s supposed to be one of their hallmarks as lycanthropes. They never settle, and they won’t, until they’re the new apex predators.”

“Well, they’ve settled now, haven’t they?” Charles replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And so close to the Academy…”

“My father—Grant,” Atlas corrects himself, “said that they were interrogating him about us. Our powers, our base.” He clenches his jaw. “It’s no coincidence that they decided to take him alive and dress his injury.”

“What does this mean?” I venture, glancing from him to Charles and then the Master.

“I think it’s clear what it means,” Master Ombres replies, her brows pulling together. “Our existence has never been a secret among the werebears. In fact, they probably know more about us than some of the more… traditionalist packs.”

I nod, thinking back to Dad. He had damn near convinced himself the Academy didn’t exist, and if Sebastian’s advice to me—or lack thereof—before I left was any indication, then my former pack is no exception. I steal a glance at Atlas; are all werewolves so obtuse?

“At any rate, up until now, they’ve shown no interest in the specifics of our practices,” Master Ombres continues. “Clearly, something has changed.”

“That’s why they were chasing Seth,” I say, a sudden realization dawning on me. All this time, I thought he left because he was trying to warn the Academy, but he was really trying to get back to safety, behind the barrier. “They were trying to capture him.”

Atlas takes my hand under the table, not breaking eye contact with the others. I couldn’t swear to it, but for a moment, I think I catch the corners of Charles’ mouth twitching up in a momentary knowing smile.

“That was my thought as well,” Atlas says. “Do they think they can learn dark magic? Is that it?”

Master Ombres glances at the other scouts, her expression unreadable. “Time will tell,” she says at last. “This will warrant further investigation. Something has shifted among the werebears, and I want to know what.”

“We’ll find out,” Atlas says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze and then letting it go.

“Not yet,” she replies, holding up a hand to stop his oncoming protest. “I don’t want any of my students walking into a war zone again, not if the werebears are no longer up to their usual tricks. We need information, and we need time. Most of all, though,” she adds, her eyes settling on me, “we need our cadets in fighting shape. I sense an escalation in our near future, and I want it to be on our terms.” She clears her throat. “I know this likely isn’t what you wanted to hear, Atlas, but…”

“No, that’s…” Atlas says, pausing as his eyes dart over to me. “That’s fine. I’ll keep training Nyx. We’ll be ready when the Academy needs us.”

“I’m pleasantly surprised to hear you say that, Atlas,” Ombres says, but there’s a smile on her lips. “See that you do. And Nyx,” she adds, turning to me as we get up to go, “I want to make sure you’re aware of what kind of responsibility you wield now. Light magic in this day and age is no small thing. I know it’s taken you a while to get your sea legs here, but that’s no reason to shirk your training, especially now. Continue to hone your powers. You may just prove to be the most valuable asset we have here, especially if my suspicions about the werebears are dismissed.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I reply, and this time there’s no snarkiness in my tone. “I won’t let you down.” To my surprise—and by the looks of it, the others’, as well—I mean it.

“That was… a lot,” I say as Atlas and I retreat from the conference room, weaving our way toward the courtyard. The voices of the other students begin to filter back to us from down the hallway, where the rest of the cadets are already off to their morning practices.

“You’re telling me,” he says as we follow the sound.

“Do you really think the werebears are planning to pull something?” I ask, slipping my hand back into his.

“I don’t want to guess,” Atlas replies. “It’s bad enough that they’re building settlements now; I don’t want to think about them finding a way to outgun us.”

“Hey,” I say, pulling him to a stop at the end of the hallway. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Think so, huh?” he asks, giving me a half-smile.

I grin. “Call it a hunch.”

My nerves flare up as he takes a step closer to me, his body pressing up against mine in the silence of the corridor. Caging my head in with his muscular arms, Atlas leans in to press a tender kiss to my lips. My insides turn to mush, and I swear my knees almost buckle. When he pulls back, his green eyes are searching mine. “What happens now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Now it’s Atlas’ turn to grin, one of those smoldering smirks that make my heart skip a beat every time, as he quotes my own words back to me. “Only one way to find out, right?”

Pulling me close, he presses his lips to mine once more before we round the corner, ready to rejoin our classmates.

I catch a glimpse of red hair as we emerge into the crowded training yard, waving enthusiastically just as Ivy turns in my direction. She returns my smile and rushes over to me, Tobias trailing along behind her. Although he gives me a lopsided grin, there’s conflict on his face as he glances from me to Atlas, and it’s another moment before I realize why.

Atlas’ hand is on the small of my back, his green eyes blazing.

Tobias pauses, like he is choosing between two options before he is storming toward us. Atlas casually moves me slightly behind him as Tobias stops and sneers at Atlas. “Are you going to tell her the truth, or am I going to do it? This has gone on too long.”

Atlas says nothing.

Complete silence.

“What truth?” I nervously question.

Tobias looks at me, his eyes softening slightly. “Atlas is an alpha heir, and all alpha heirs are taken to a ceremony when they are fifteen. That ceremony tells them who their fated mate is and who they are destined to be with. It shows them their future and the plan the gods themselves have. Never in history have the words of a ceremony been wrong.”

A cold feeling of dread drifts over me as I predict every word Tobias is going to say. “Addison told me yesterday that Atlas is her fated mate. Always has been. That’s why she is so obsessed with getting him back.”

The world is spinning as I stumble a step back. Fated mates are destined. Impossible to fight. No one gets between them, and they have already been together. He lied to me. Used a fake relationship not only to piss his father off but to keep his fated mate away from him. He slept with me… all the time lying. Fury builds up a wall in my chest, locking away my fracturing heart. Atlas moves like a shadow and smacks Tobias hard across the jaw, knocking him to the ground before turning his green eyes on me. I keep stepping back, in a haze. “Let me explain.”

I will my eyes into nothing but coldness and the darkness I’ve never been able to harness. “Don’t ever come near me again, Atlas.”

Epilogue

CHAIRE

Although the rest of the New Moon pack is outdoors for the day, scouting, practicing transformation, and studying the Traditions, Claire Arcturus is at home. She sits with her shoulders tensed, her brows knit together in consternation as she surveys her visitor from one end of the living room. Briefly, she debates transforming, attacking him—she’s never seen a Wolf Witch in person before, despite all she’s heard—but she shakes the idea off as soon as it comes. She hasn’t heard a thing from her sister since Nyx was rejected from the pack, and if this dark-skinned man dressed in black is truly a representative of the Academy, then he might be the only source of news she’s going to get.

“Do you mind if I sit?” the man asks, turning away from the fireplace.

Nodding stiffly, Claire gestures to an open chair, still eyeing him with suspicion. “What did you say your name was?” she asks.

“Charles,” the man replies, fixing her with a piercing gaze. “Your sister speaks highly of you.”

Claire’s guard slips a little. “You know Nyx?”

The man, Charles, nods as he settles into his seat. “I was the one who escorted her to the Academy. Fitting, seeing as I’m now liaising with her pack.” He gives her a disarming smile. “She’s quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”

Claire nods, glancing out the window at the falling snow outside. “Yeah,” she replies, smiling a little herself. “She is.” Clearing her throat, she turns back to Charles. “But I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to talk about my sister.”

“Actually,” the man says, crossing his arms, “she’s exactly what I came here to talk to you about.”

She tenses at this, swallowing hard. “Why?” she asks, horrible possibilities already swimming through her mind. “She’s okay, isn’t she? She’s safe?”

“Yes,” Charles replies. “Yes, she’s safe. But I don’t know if she will be forever—not if the werebears have anything to say about it.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asks, gripping the armrests so tightly she can almost hear them creak.

Charles leans forward, his eyes darkening and his expression stony. “Claire,” he says, “we need to discuss the circumstances of Nyx’s birth and who she really is. Before beings worse than werebears come and kill us all to find her.”

To read the next book in the series click here…

Afterword

Thank you for reading Luna Wolf! The second book, Nox Wolf, will be out in March 2022.

Link here.

Please continue reading for a small excerpt of Supernatural Shifter Academy also written by us!

About G. Bailey

G. Bailey is a USA Today and International Bestselling Author of fantasy and paranormal romance.

She lives in England with her cheeky children, her gorgeous (and slightly mad) golden retrievers and her teenage sweetheart turned husband.

She loves cups of tea.

Chocolate and Harry Potter marathons are her jam and she owns way too many notebooks and random pens.

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About Regan Rosewood

Regan Rosewood is a new author from England, where she lives just down the road from G. Bailey.

She has a cute cat and an addiction to reading.

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Supernatural Shifter Academy

Sometimes when I look into the light of the sun, I can only see the shadows around the edges, waiting for their chance to smother what brightness is holding them back.

But looking up at the sky, as I make my way down the sloping drive, I can only see big black thunderstorms forming on the horizon. I’m only just past the top of the hill on Bowery Street, and considering how quickly the weather is going sour, the odds of getting home before it starts to rain are slim to none.

“Damn,” I mutter, pulling my backpack up higher on my shoulders and shaking my head. It’s times like these when I really wish Central High’s bus route included my neighborhood. Well, our neighborhood. Their neighborhood. Whoever’s neighborhood it is, it’s too far outside the city center for the school bus to reach, and since I don’t have a car, I’m what some might call shit out of luck. Normally I don’t mind the long walk home—in fact, I usually enjoy it. It’s a chance to listen to some music, stretch my legs after eight hours of sitting at a desk, and, most importantly, it means less time spent around Mark. When the weather’s bad, though…

Kicking myself for not thinking to bring an umbrella, I continue down the road, hoping I’ll get lucky and not end up soaked by the time I reach the house. Doubtful. All I can reasonably do at this point is try not to get water all over the front entryway and pray that Mark won’t be in one of his moods when I get in. I can practically hear him snapping at me already, slurring his words as he gestures at me with an empty beer bottle: Damn it, Millie! You couldn’t even dry off before getting mud all over the front porch? What’s wrong with you, huh?

I shake my head, feeling the first raindrop plop down on my shoulder like a warning. Yeah, I know, I think. It feels like I’m on my way to the gallows.

Okay, maybe that’s a little overdramatic. But not by much. I’ve been living with my most recent foster parents, Mark and Tonya Stone, for going on a year now, and things haven’t been peachy. It’s not like I’m not used to bad foster family situations--in fact, that’s basically all I’ve ever known, with a few exceptions. It’s like the start of every fantasy story I’ve ever read: a baby girl, abandoned at the hospital when she was born by parents she never knew, drifting from one abominable living situation to another and wondering why she was put on this planet. Except if this was really a fantasy story, a fairy godmother would have appeared at my bedroom window a long time ago to whisk me away on some whimsical adventure.

Instead, the only things that have ever appeared at my bedroom window are the eggs thrown by neighborhood pranksters and the occasional crow.

It hasn’t been all bad, though; I think as the ground levels out beneath my feet. The raindrops are coming more frequently now, and I see the horizon light up briefly with the flash of lightning. Mollie, the foster mother I lived with from when I was nine to when I was eleven, was easily my favorite of the bunch. Mollie, I remember her saying when she first introduced herself. It’s only one letter away from your name, Millie. It’s like it was meant to be.

And for a while, I almost believed it. With Mollie, I actually felt like I had a home, not just a place to stay. She showed me how to cook, let me watch her TV programs with her, and actually seemed interested in me as a person, not just a source of government-provided income. She even gave me a necklace—a little sterling silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon—that I had worn until the clasp broke. Now I keep it tucked into the worn combat boots that I wear every day, no matter the weather. If I can’t wear it, then at least I can keep it—like a good luck charm, or something.

But, as I’ve been forced to learn again and again as I’m passed from one set of strangers to another, nothing good is meant to last. The economy took a hit, Mollie had to close down her bakery, and it was determined that she was no longer fit to support me. So off I was packed, to a new family, a new set of introductions, and a new set of disappointments. Rinse and repeat.

With every good thing in my life, shadows seep into the edges and make it impossible to stay good for long.

As I turn off the main road and into Mark and Tonya’s neighborhood, I remind myself to stop ruminating. What has that ever gotten me, other than resentment? Feeling the reassuring pressure of Mollie’s necklace against my ankle, I speed up a little, motivated to at least minimize my time outside in the rapidly increasing downpour. Once I get home, I’ll have to finish my trigonometry homework, as well as work on the English paper that’s due this coming Monday.

It’s as I’m contemplating my schoolwork that I’m hit with an increasingly familiar new wave of anxiety. I turned eighteen last month, which means that not only am I in my last year of high school, but my days in the foster care system are numbered. One would think I would be happy to be finishing the endless cycle of lousy living situations, and I am, but I’m not blind to what this next transition will mean: I’ll be on my own, for better or worse. And given my luck so far, my money’s on worse. I’m going to have to decide what to do about university, about getting a job, finding a place to live… the training wheels are coming off, and I’m in no way prepared for it.

I guess that’s something every foster kid has to face, I reason, feeling the raindrops now pelting down on me. I lift my backpack and hold it above my head like a shield, aware that my papers are going to get wet but hardly caring at this point. But not every foster kid has had as hard of a go of it as I have. I know I’m just feeling sorry for myself, but it’s almost impossible not to.

The truth is that I’ve never really felt at home anywhere, with the exception of those two wonderful years with Mollie. No matter where I go or who I live with, I’ve never really felt a sense of belonging. I’ve made friends here and there, but by the time I’m ever really starting to find a niche in one place, it’s time to pick up and move somewhere else. It’s like my life has never really begun, leaving me with a lingering sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction everywhere I go.

By now, my blonde hair is beginning to dampen, and I pick up my pace, practically jogging now in a desperate attempt to stay dry. That’s enough chewing the cud, I tell myself. Just take things one day at a time. That’s all you can manage. By the time I reach Mark and Tonya’s old, single-story house, I’m thoroughly soaked and shivering. Like a lost kitten… or something. It takes me a minute to fumble my house key out of my dripping backpack, but eventually I get the front door open, pausing on the threshold like one wrong move will set off an explosion.

And for all I know, it will.

“Tonya, honey, is that you?” I can hear Mark’s voice coming from the kitchen. Good. If I’m lucky, I can get down to my basement room and change my clothes before he’s any the wiser.

“It’s me, Mark,” I call back, hoping my tone comes across as jovial and unbothered.

“Hmph,” he says, and then goes quiet. Judging from the sound of his voice, he’s been hitting the bottle for at least an hour already. Ever since losing his job at the factory on the other side of town, he’s been taking full advantage of the unemployment checks and letting Tonya put food on the table by herself.

Tonya, a mousy woman who probably won’t ever have the gumption to divorce her deadbeat husband, pulls odd hours at the diner down the street to support his drinking habit. Funny how they should take me away from someone like Mollie and then stay silent when I end up in a legitimately dysfunctional living situation. But what do I know, right?

I manage to slip out of the entryway and down the basement stairs, doing my best not to drip water on the grimy linoleum floor. The basement is half-finished, with a pull-out couch serving as a bed and my meager possessions all crammed into the closet by the back wall. It’s more or less a glorified storage area, but at least nobody comes down here to bother me. Down here, I can re-read my worn copies of Narnia, the Harry Potter series, and yes, even Twilight, in peace, daydreaming about being swept away into a life full of purpose and magic, where tragedy and boredom were always just the precursors to a grand new adventure.

The grimy mirror on the back of the door makes me pause, looking at my blonde wet hair falling around my shoulders, dripping rainwater onto my drenched clothes. My very dark blue eyes stare back at me, daunting me with how much they look like the very water that smothers my clothes. Not for the first time, I wonder what my parents looked like. Do I look like my mother or father? Or neither of them.

But the mirror doesn’t have answers for me. Of course it doesn’t. No one does.

I’m just pulling on a dry sweater when Mark’s gravelly voice shatters the silence into a million pieces. “Millie, what the hell?!”

My eyes go wide. “Yeah, Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Get up here,” he yells, and even from down here I can hear the alcohol in his voice. Swallowing hard and bracing myself for the worst, I pad back up the basement stairs to find Mark standing in the entryway. His hulking figure makes me feel even smaller than I normally do, and with his shoulders hunched, his beer gut sagging over the top of his trousers, he looks more like a troll than ever before. “What the fuck is this?” he demands, pointing down at the floor by the welcome mat.

“What…?” I begin, taking a step closer, and then I see it. A set of streaky, damp boot prints leading to the basement door. Shit. Why the hell didn’t I take my shoes off?! “Oh,” I say, blanching as I turn to look at him again. “I, uh… I’m sorry. It’s pouring outside.”

“Yeah?” Mark rounds on me, his bloodshot eyes flashing. “Is that right? And why the hell didn’t you think about that before you went and got mud all over the floor?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, inching back as he takes a step toward me. “I’ll clean it up. I didn’t even think about it—”

“Of course you didn’t, because you don’t think, period,” Mark says, swaying slightly on his feet, and I can smell the stench of booze coming off him. Not beer this time, either. Something heavier. Whiskey, maybe. And there’s something in his voice that floods me with unease. Have I ever seen him this drunk before? “Sometimes I wonder why the hell we’re even keeping you,” Mark continues, running a hand through his thinning hair. “I mean, you’re useless, do you know that? We spend all this time and money providing for you, and what do we get?” He advances on me, making my heart jump to my ears. The unease is turning into full-blown fear. “Nothing,” he finishes. “That’s what.”

“Mark,” I say, my voice coming out embarrassingly small, “please… I’m sorry. Really. I’ll—”

“Did I say you could talk?” he roars, and then he does something I’ve never seen him do before, no matter how drunk he’s been. He takes a swing at me. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, and I’m able to duck out of the way. His fist connects with the wall, and he roars in pain. “You little…” he begins, winding up to throw another punch.

Where’s Tonya? She won’t be back until dinner time, at the earliest. It occurs to me that he could do whatever he wanted to me right now, and no one would be the wiser.

He’s going to hurt me, I think, heart thundering as I continue to back up. He’s actually going to hurt me.

In that instant, with that realization, I feel something strange welling up in the pit of my stomach, something cool and insistent—a feeling I’ve never experienced before. For a moment it’s enough to draw my attention away from Mark, away from school, away from everything. The novelty of it makes me wonder if this is how newborn babies feel.

I can feel something in me waking up, something I couldn’t put my finger on even if I tried. And one thing becomes clear to me, a truth I think I’ve known for a long time but was unable—or unwilling—to face until now.

I need to get out of here.

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