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Sunlight seeped through the curtains in pale strips, and Eleanor woke with a quiet smile already forming. Something big hovered on the edge of the day, and her pulse seemed to know it. Saturday meant no school, no classrooms, no forced small talk—and she clung to that relief. She stretched under the covers, letting the warmth hold her for one last second. Eleanor genuinely liked learning and never minded studying, but the pack’s school was a different kind of exhausting. In that building, she was always on the outside of everything, watching the hierarchy arrange itself without ever making room for her. Saying she wasn’t popular didn’t even cover it. Aleanor did, though. Her twin had the kind of effortless gravity that made people orbit. Everyone chased her attention, and Eleanor had long since learned not to expect sisterly closeness in return. Aleanor had been born nearly ten minutes earlier and acted like the universe had stamped that fact into their roles: leader and shadow. Eleanor forced the old sting away. Today wasn’t for brooding. Because this Saturday wasn’t just a break—it was the day before her eighteenth birthday. Midnight was waiting. The moment the clock flipped, she would be of age, and the bond she had been craving for years would finally open. Her wolf. The thought made her grin wider. She had wanted that connection for as long as she could remember—wanted the pull, the instincts, the other presence inside her that every werewolf talked about like it was the truest kind of home. It was tradition. It was sacred. It was the Moon Goddess’s design, carried through their bloodlines like a promise. And Eleanor wasn’t just any pack member. The Blake Forest Pack was one of the largest in North America, nearly a thousand wolves strong. Her parents served as the pack’s Betas, which meant expectations clung to their family whether Eleanor asked for them or not. Alpha Brennan led them, respected in the werewolf world for strength and stability. Still, beyond her wolf, there was the question that had never stopped haunting her: her mate. Who was he? Where was he? Had she passed him in a hallway without knowing? Night after night, she had lain awake spinning possibilities until sleep stole them away. The idea of finally being chosen—finally belonging to someone the way stories promised—made her heart thump with bright, nervous hope. Maybe she wouldn’t feel alone anymore. Loneliness had been her default for years. Her parents were constantly pulled toward pack duties, and when they were home, their focus drifted to Aleanor like a compass to north. In their house and in the pack, Eleanor often felt like background noise. At school she had no real circle, and at home it was the same: one shining star, and Eleanor standing off to the side wishing things could be… different. A sharp knock slammed into the moment. Eleanor jerked upright, blinking like she’d been yanked out of a dream. “Eleanor, today isn’t for sleeping in,” her mother called through the door, brisk and unamused. “Five minutes. Breakfast. In an hour we’re all at the packhouse. Move.” Eleanor let out a low groan and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Yes, Mother,” she said, resigned, already scrambling. Years of being rushed had taught her speed. She tugged on skinny jeans, shoved her feet into her trainers, and pulled on a plain white t-shirt. It wasn’t special, but it was clean and easy, and she didn’t have time to debate it. At the mirror she gathered her blonde curls into a high ponytail, fingers working through tangles with practiced irritation. Forest-green eyes stared back at her—bright, anxious, hopeful. For a breath, the same thought flickered through her again: would her mate like them? Would he see past her average face and notice whatever was worth noticing? She pushed the doubt down, grabbed her phone from the dresser, and hurried out. The stairs took two steps at a time. Downstairs, her parents were already seated, both looking far too awake. “Morning, sweetheart,” her dad said, smiling warmly. “Ready for today?” Eleanor nodded, excitement buzzing under her skin. “Yeah, Dad. I am.” Her voice came out a little too quick, a little too charged. She sat and reached for toast, slathering it with butter and apricot jam—her favorite. The first bite tasted like comfort, sweet and sharp at once, and she tried to hold onto that small calm. Minutes slid by fast. Eleanor finished eating, but her mother’s impatience began to fill the room like a storm building pressure. Her mother checked her watch, jaw tightening. “Aleanor Blake! Five minutes. We’re leaving.” Her shout cut through the house. “For the Goddess’s sake, hurry!” The answer came as a familiar click-clack on the staircase. Aleanor appeared, and the room seemed to subtly rearrange itself around her. Eleanor’s breath caught despite herself. Her sister descended like she belonged on a stage: a short white dress fitted neatly at the waist, a bold red belt slicing color through the brightness. Red high-heeled sandals flashed as she stepped down. Eleanor stared, unable to help it. Aleanor’s long black hair spilled down her back in glossy waves, framing a face that looked untouched by effort. Her makeup was perfect—just enough to sharpen what was already striking. Deep blue eyes glinted with confidence, the kind that made people lean in. A small ache tugged at Eleanor. It always did. They were twins in name only; no one would guess it by looking. Aleanor had inherited the best of both parents—her father’s height and dark hair, her mother’s blue eyes. Eleanor, on the other hand, had taken after her maternal grandmother: petite, softer-featured, a different kind of presence entirely. Before Eleanor could disappear into that spiral, her mother’s face brightened as she took Aleanor in. “Gorgeous, darling,” her mother said, pride warming her voice. “Eat something before we go.” Aleanor’s smile flicked toward Eleanor, sharp with amusement. “I’m fine, Mom. I have to be careful.” Her gaze slid to Eleanor’s plate with thinly veiled disgust. “I can’t stuff myself with toast and jam like some people and still keep my figure.” Heat rushed up Eleanor’s neck and into her cheeks—humiliation and anger mixing until she couldn’t separate them. Her mother didn’t soften it. “You should show your sister how to dress, Aleanor,” she said, disapproving eyes landing on Eleanor like a judgment. “Especially on special days.” Eleanor swallowed the last bite she’d been chewing, throat tight. This was supposed to feel like the start of something wonderful. Yet Aleanor’s perfection, and everyone’s devotion to it, threw a familiar shade across her excitement. Her father pushed back from the table, urgency snapping through his calm. “Everyone, let’s go. Now.” He looked between them, already in pack-business mode. “I just got a mind link. The Silvercrest Pack convoy has crossed into our borders. Twenty minutes, maybe less.” Soon Eleanor was in the back seat of her father’s SUV, watching the road blur while tension settled into the car. Her father’s face had gone serious, the weight of his position visible in the set of his mouth. He drew in a breath and addressed both daughters, voice firm. “Today matters. A lot. You’re Blakes, and you’re Blake Forest wolves—your behavior must be flawless.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Silvercrest is the biggest, most powerful pack in the country,” he continued. “Our alliance with them is essential. You’ve heard enough about them to know what’s at stake, so be careful.” Eleanor listened, heart thudding as old stories resurfaced. Silvercrest, ruled by Alpha Sterling, held the kind of influence that made other packs choose their words. They were rich. They were feared. They were untouchable. And then there was Alpha Amon Sterling. Even the name carried a chill. Three years ago he had taken over, stepping into leadership after his father with a ruthless decisiveness that people still whispered about. Under him, Silvercrest had grown even larger—absorbing smaller packs, tightening control, expanding territory as if the land itself owed him loyalty. But it was his other name that made Eleanor’s stomach tighten: Dreadwolf. Amon was infamous for what he did to rogues. Mercy wasn’t part of the story—never had been. He eliminated them quickly, brutally, as if each one was personal. No one seemed to know why his hatred ran so deep. They only knew it did. The packhouse drew closer, and the air felt heavier with every mile, excitement and fear twisting together as if the day ahead could change everything. Chapter 2 — The Visitors The SUV coasted to a halt in front of the packhouse, its looming facade swallowing the night. The moment the tires stopped, the space erupted—voices, hurried steps, that restless buzz of expectation that made the air feel charged. Eleanor’s parents climbed out and headed straight for the Alpha and Luna, moving with practiced purpose and careful respect. Beside them, her sister Aleanor did exactly what Eleanor knew she would do—she shot across the open area toward her boyfriend, Adrian. Ade, everyone called him. And Aleanor reached him like she’d been pulled by a rope. Eleanor stayed back. From where she stood, she watched Aleanor throw her arms around Ade and kiss him—long, hungry, unapologetic. They kissed like the crowd didn’t exist, like the packhouse wasn’t behind them, like there weren’t eyes everywhere. It turned Eleanor’s stomach. People had stopped pretending they didn’t know what those two were doing. They’d been together for years, clinging to each other as if the bond was already official, and everyone knew they were sleeping together. Eleanor didn’t envy them. Not really. They were convinced fate was on their side. Ade was nineteen now and still unmated, and Aleanor treated that like evidence stamped by the Moon Goddess herself—proof they were meant to be. All that was left, in their minds, was Aleanor’s first shift to seal it. Eleanor remembered when she’d once been like the other girls—when she’d had a silly teenage crush on him too. But the thought of giving herself to someone before meeting her own mate had always felt wrong, like spitting on something sacred. Besides, Aleanor didn’t allow competition. Anyone foolish enough to look too long at Ade got dealt with. Her sister had a pack of loyal followers, and they made sure no girl forgot who Aleanor claimed as “hers.” Time dragged. Eleanor’s gaze unfocused as her mind slipped backward into old scenes she hadn’t invited. There had been a time—long ago—when Ade had been her friend. They’d been kids with scraped knees and loud laughter, swapping secrets like they were treasures. With him, Eleanor had felt less alone. Then puberty hit, and everything tilted. Ade pulled away. His attention snapped to Aleanor like a compass finding north, and Eleanor was left standing where he’d abandoned her. The loneliness hurt, but what cut deeper was what came after: Ade had taken the childish things she’d trusted him with and handed them over—shared her secrets with Aleanor and his friends. They’d used them for jokes. For entertainment. She could still remember the heat in her face, the way her chest had felt too tight when she heard them laughing. Eleanor’s eyes found him again. Ade looked the same as ever—tall and lean, hair a messy dirty-blond curl, eyes bright blue and sharp. He had that easy, effortless appeal that made people angle toward him without thinking. He was alpha stock. The kind of werewolf everyone assumed would lead one day, inheriting his father’s title like it was already his. Eleanor could admit he was attractive. She could also admit she resented him. The memory haze shattered with the sudden growl of multiple engines. Tires bit the ground hard, the sound tearing through the chatter. A line of vehicles rolled in like a statement—dark, sleek, tinted windows catching the moonlight. When they stopped, doors opened in sequence, and the figures stepping out didn’t just arrive. They dominated. Eleanor’s breath hitched as she took them in. Massive wolves, built like they’d been carved from stone, each presence heavy enough to press on the crowd. They made the Back Forest wolves look smaller without even trying. And then the middle car opened. The man who stepped out made Eleanor’s heart stutter. He was huge—something like six-foot-seven, a giant even among giants. His suit was expensive and sharply cut, but it pulled at the shoulders and chest like it had been forced to accommodate too much muscle. Dark hair, a hard, clean jaw, and eyes—blue-grey—cold enough to feel like a blade. His mouth was set in a flat, displeased line, as if he’d already decided he didn’t like what he’d come to see. A quiet spread outward as he started toward the packhouse, the crowd lowering in volume the way animals did when a larger predator walked into range. Eleanor felt it too—the pressure of his aura, the way it made people straighten or shrink, instinctively choosing submission or defiance. Alpha Brennan broke the silence, stepping forward with the formal weight of protocol. “Alpha Sterling,” he said, his respect unmistakable. “We’re honored to host you. Welcome.” Sterling answered with a brief nod, giving nothing away. He exchanged the expected words with Brennan, face unreadable, and then both Alphas—Betas following—moved toward Brennan’s office. The moment Sterling crossed the grounds, the pack’s reaction turned obvious. Unmated she-wolves stared openly. Some looked dazed, some hungry, like they’d forgotten manners and pride in the same instant. Even Aleanor—who usually carried herself like she owned every room—stood frozen with eyes wide, caught in the pull of him. The males didn’t look entranced. They looked uneasy. Sterling’s presence pressed against their dominance, challenging it just by existing, and Eleanor saw shoulders tighten and jaws clench as they tried not to show it. Half an hour crawled by. When the office door finally opened again, the change was immediate. Sterling walked out first, loose and confident, a lazy swagger in his step. An arrogant smile tugged at his mouth like he’d enjoyed himself. Behind him, Alpha Brennan looked paler than he had before. Eleanor’s stomach dipped when she noticed her father too—his face tight, his color slightly off. It was the kind of look that said everything without saying anything: a reminder of where power truly sat in that conversation. Outside, Sterling inclined his head toward Luna Catherine in a polished, almost courteous farewell. Luna Catherine, gracious to the end, tried to persuade him to stay—if not overnight, then at least for brunch. Sterling declined. He turned away, climbed into his tinted SUV, and the convoy pulled out, leaving the Back Forest Pack with nothing but the echo of his visit. As soon as the cars were gone, the pack seemed to exhale all at once. The air lightened, like fog burning off under sunlight. People drifted back to their tasks, voices returning, shoulders dropping. Eleanor’s parents and Aleanor remained at the packhouse, but Eleanor didn’t. She started home on foot, letting the night air cool her skin while her thoughts churned—nerves, resolve, and the sharp awareness of what was coming. In her room, she yanked out her homework and went at it like a deadline could save her. She wanted it finished fast, tonight, because after tonight everything would change. After tonight, she would have her wolf. And maybe—if fate wasn’t cruel—she might find her mate too. The one who was supposed to stand beside her when life turned brutal. When her pen finally stopped moving, satisfaction settled over her like a quiet blanket. She shut her books with a decisive snap and stood. The ritual waited. In the bathroom, she ran a bath until the tub filled with warm water, steam curling up in thin ribbons. She slid in and scrubbed herself clean with almost obsessive care, as if she could wash away the tremor in her hands. She shaved too, cheeks burning as she worked the razor with practiced focus—just in case. When she stepped out, her skin tingled, fresh and overly aware. She chose a light summer dress and pulled it on, then grabbed a second one to carry as backup. First shifts shredded clothes. Better to be prepared. At 11:30 p.m., someone knocked softly. Her mother’s voice came through the door. “Eleanor, are you ready, darling?” “Yes, Mom. I’m coming.” Eleanor inhaled deep, forcing her heartbeat to slow, and headed downstairs. Her family waited in the foyer. Aleanor practically glowed, smiling too wide, eyes bright with anticipation. Together, they left for the forest clearing where first shifts usually happened. The path smelled of earth and trees and that sharp metallic edge of nerves. It was a turning point in a werewolf’s life, something families and close friends witnessed—yet because they were the Beta family, the crowd was bigger than normal. By the time they reached the clearing, Eleanor’s pulse was hammering. Moonlight poured down in a pale wash over the gathered pack. At the front stood Alpha Bradley Brennan, Luna Catherine, and Ade, all three wearing expressions that balanced solemn duty with excitement. Minutes fell away. Midnight crept closer. Eleanor felt the suspense tighten around them, thick as a held breath, as if the whole forest had paused to listen for what would happen next. Chapter 3 — The Shift Midnight landed like a held breath. Everyone in the clearing seemed to pause at once, as if the world itself was waiting. Two minutes later, a shriek tore straight through the darkness. Eleanor whirled. Her sister crumpled to the ground, seized by violent spasms, and Eleanor’s pulse slammed up into her throat. Their parents hurried in, voices pitched low and urgent—comfort, reassurance, commands to breathe—yet the sounds that dominated were rawer: the snap of shifting bone, the ragged cries and feral growls that forced their way out of her sister. The change finished. Where Aleanor had been, a wolf now stood—pure white, impossibly so, as if the moon had spilled snow onto living muscle. Under the silver light her coat gleamed, and even the Alpha’s face betrayed his surprise. White wolves were not just rare; they were revered. In their world they were treated like omens of strength and favor, said to be gifts touched by the Moon Goddess herself, often carrying abilities others never received. To have one in a pack was an honor people spoke about for generations. As Aleanor steadied on four paws, admiration rolled through the crowd in hushed ripples. Then Eleanor’s knees buckled. A sharp, savage pain struck her so hard she hit the ground. Heat ripped through her veins, molten and punishing, while her body twisted against itself—shifting, rearranging, refusing to be still. She tried to cling to her parents’ voices, to the steadying instructions they threw at her, but agony swallowed every word before it could reach her. And in the middle of that chaos, something else unfurled. A presence stirred in the deepest part of her—quiet, intimate, undeniable—like a hand placed over her heart from the inside. A voice brushed across her thoughts, soft but unbendable. Luna, it said. Her wolf. With the name came relief, a calm that didn’t erase the pain so much as give it shape, give Eleanor a way through it. Slowly, the fire eased. When the last of the shifting released her, she lay panting on the earth in a new body. With trembling effort she pushed up, paws digging into soil. The forest flooded her senses—too sharp, too loud, too alive—and joy crashed in right behind the shock. She had done it. She had shifted. All around, faces stared at her as if she had become something impossible. Eleanor barely had time to wonder why before the night’s sounds distracted her, every smell and rustle suddenly layered with meaning. “I’m so happy you’re here, Luna,” Eleanor told the voice inside her. “Finally.” Luna’s reply came shyly, warm with emotion. “I’m happy too. I swear I’ll be the best wolf for you. You won’t regret me.” “Never,” Eleanor shot back, fierce with certainty. “We’re one. Always. I already love you so much.” For the first time in her life, the loneliness that had clung to her felt like it was breaking apart. She had her companion now—her other half, her lifelong friend—someone she could trust. “Are you sure, Eleanor? I understand if I’m a disappointment because I’m a—” “Shift!” Alpha Bradley’s command thundered over the clearing, slicing their private moment clean in half. Luna’s last word vanished. The order rolled through the pack, and Eleanor’s body obeyed. The familiar pull returned—skin and bone re-forming, the world narrowing—until she was human again. The second change was smoother than the first. Nudity was normal among shifters, but Eleanor still flushed. She snatched up her light summer dress from the ground and tugged it on as quickly as she could. While she dressed, she caught the undercurrent: tense whispers, quick looks traded like secrets, eyes that kept sliding toward her and then away. At first she thought it was only Aleanor—who wouldn’t stare at a white wolf?—but the attention felt wrong. Too sharp. Too focused. Unease settled heavy in her stomach. When Eleanor looked toward her family, the coldness on their faces made her stop short. Troubled. Hard. Her father’s mouth set in a line that didn’t resemble pride at all. The murmuring died abruptly. Ade’s voice rang out. “Mate.” He sounded thrilled—exhilarated—as he sprinted toward Aleanor. He reached her, gathered her close, and kissed her with unmistakable passion. Then, in a blink, his joy slipped. Confusion knotted his brow. He pulled back, staring into Aleanor’s eyes as if searching for something that refused to appear. “You’re not my mate,” he said, disbelief scraping through his voice. Aleanor’s shock mirrored his. “What? No—how? That can’t be right. It has to be a mistake,” she insisted, words shaking. Ade turned his head, scanning the circle of onlookers like the answer might be written on someone’s face. “I don’t understand,” he muttered, sounding almost desperate. “I can smell my mate.” His gaze shifted again. It landed on Eleanor. “You,” he breathed, stepping toward her as realization widened his eyes. Eleanor’s chest tightened. Shock surged up—along with the unmistakable scent of sandalwood, suddenly so strong it felt like it belonged in her lungs. Inside her mind, Luna screamed with delight. Mate! Eleanor’s lips parted. The word slipped out like a confession. “Mate.” Everything around them seemed to stall. Every stare in the clearing pinned her in place. The truth spread fast and ugly: Ade’s mate was not Aleanor—the bold sister who filled every room without trying—but Eleanor, the quiet one who had spent years overlooked at the edges. Alpha Bradley’s voice shattered the moment. “For tonight, everyone returns home,” he ordered, leaving no room for debate. “I will speak with the Blake family.” Pack members dispersed, reluctant but obedient, until only the core families remained. The Alpha cleared his throat and faced them. “Three matters need to be addressed,” he said evenly. “First—Aleanor. You are a white wolf. A blessing to this pack. We are fortunate to have you.” Aleanor’s eyes widened at the praise. Pride lifted her posture as she looked to her parents, startled and pleased all at once. Alpha Bradley didn’t linger. “Second—Ade,” he continued, his tone sharpening. “You announced a mate, and you have thrown everyone into confusion. Clarify it. Who is your mate?” Ade shifted under his father’s gaze, still reeling. “Eleanor is my mate,” he admitted, voice low. “Or… that’s what my wolf is telling me.” The words hit like a stone dropped into still water—shock rippling outward. Aleanor went rigid. Tears swelled, turning her eyes bright and furious. “Your wolf is wrong,” she choked out. “It can’t be.” Ade’s shoulders sank. “I’m afraid it’s true,” he said, regret weighing each syllable. Something in Aleanor snapped. She lunged for Eleanor, grief turning instantly into rage. Her palm cracked against Eleanor’s cheek with a slap that echoed. “You pathetic excuse for a girl,” Aleanor spat, venom thick. “You fucking whore. You think you can steal MY mate? Ade is mine. I will kill you!” Aleanor’s father grabbed her fast, arms locking around her to keep her from striking again. Ade stood between them, torn, face drawn tight with conflict. “Enough!” Alpha Bradley roared. The single word froze the clearing. “This will be discussed later,” he said, voice final, “and a decision will be made about who mates with whom. Now—there is a third issue.” His gaze shifted to Eleanor. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine. “Your wolf,” he began, each word measured. Eleanor swallowed. “My wolf?” Confusion and fear tangled together. “What about my wolf?” Alpha Bradley’s expression tightened. He turned to his Beta and Luna—Grant and Audrey Blake—his voice dropping into something grim. “This happens so rarely,” he murmured, regret plain. “I’m sorry, my friend. I wish I could change it, but it is what it is.” Eleanor’s heart hammered. She searched her parents’ faces for anything—reassurance, softness, love. Her father met her eyes with cold disappointment that looked dangerously close to hatred. “What’s happening?” Eleanor demanded, breath thin. “What’s the problem?” No one answered until her father finally spoke, heavy and blunt. “Your wolf is an omega.” The clearing tilted. From a high-ranked family, an omega wolf was not just rare—it was considered disgraceful, a mark people whispered about as weakness, something that could stain an entire bloodline. Dread pooled in Eleanor’s stomach as all the night’s revelations stacked on top of each other, higher and higher, until her head spun under the weight of them. Chapter 4 Broken Promises The Blakes came home carrying the night with them, every secret and verdict still clinging to their skin. Aleanor barely crossed the threshold before she bolted for the stairs. Pride in her white wolf tangled with the wreckage of learning Ade wasn’t her fated mate, and the mix split her open. By the time she reached her room, she was already crying hard. Audrey went after her at once, reading the pain in her daughter’s back and following with soft, urgent comfort—whatever words a mother could gather when a dream had just collapsed. Eleanor stayed behind in the living room with her father. The shock hadn’t even cooled: she had discovered she was omega, and worse—Ade’s fated mate. She looked to the one person who was supposed to steady her. Her father didn’t. She tried anyway, voice careful, trying to cross the sudden distance between them. He answered with a curt flick of his hand, as if her feelings were clutter in the room. “Go to your room and sleep,” he said, eyes flat. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night.” Eleanor didn’t move fast enough to hide how it landed. She watched him turn away and go to the minibar, pouring whiskey with hands that didn’t shake. From the hallway came Aleanor’s raw sobbing, Audrey’s low murmurs attempting to stitch her back together. Eleanor stood there as if she were the guest in her own house. The loneliness came in all at once—sharp, humiliating, absolute. At last she climbed the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the air itself was pushing her down. In her room, the dimness made everything feel distant and unreal. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared ahead, throat burning with rejection. Then something shifted inside her—subtle, cautious. Luna, her wolf, edged into her awareness as if afraid of being blamed. “I’m sorry,” Luna whispered. Sadness threaded every word. “I never wanted to hurt you.” Warmth surged through Eleanor despite herself, protective and fierce. “Don’t apologize,” she told her, gentling her voice. “If this is what the Goddess planned, it has a reason. And I love you, Luna. You’re mine, and I’m yours. We’re in this together.” Luna’s presence trembled, grateful and grieving at the same time. “I hate that I’m the reason you’re suffering,” Luna said, regret folding in on itself. “You aren’t,” Eleanor answered, more certain now. “You give me strength. You keep me from being alone. We can handle whatever comes—together.” Silence held for a beat, and then Luna’s thoughts drifted to the one subject neither of them could escape. “Our mate?” Luna asked, hope flickering even as fear followed close behind. Eleanor’s chest tightened. “There’s a high chance he’ll reject us,” she said, the words tasting like ash. “Because we’re omega?” Luna’s voice came small. “Not just that,” Eleanor murmured, disappointment sinking into her bones. “He didn’t wait for us. And he loves someone else. He loves Aleanor.” Luna whimpered and retreated, curling into a corner of Eleanor’s mind, wounded and quiet. Hours later—when exhaustion finally dragged Eleanor under—sleep didn’t come gently. It came restless and thin. At around eight, pounding on her door tore it apart. “Up, Eleanor,” her mother called, sharp through the wood. “Ten minutes. Get downstairs—guests are here. Move!” Eleanor pushed herself upright with a groan, still stranded in last night. She stumbled into the bathroom and threw cold water on her face, hoping it would wash away the dread. It didn’t. She pulled on a plain summer dress, hands moving too fast, mind moving too slow, and went down. The living room hit her with sandalwood the moment she entered. Luna stirred instantly, alert. The Alpha’s family sat waiting. Eleanor’s eyes found Ade before she could stop them. His pupils were blown wide, his expression pulled tight in conflict—and he was looking straight at her. “Good morning,” Eleanor said, voice carefully neutral. Inside her, Luna all but bounced with desperate certainty. Mate came for us, go to him! Eleanor stayed rooted. Her body wouldn’t agree to hope. Aleanor rushed in a heartbeat later, cheeks wet, breath uneven. “Ade!” Relief broke out of her like a cry. She ran straight into his arms and clung to him as if she’d fall apart otherwise. Eleanor felt pain spear through her chest. She had known it was coming. Knowing didn’t soften it. It still felt like something solid had been driven through her ribs. The Alpha cleared his throat. Conversation died mid-breath. The room thickened with expectation. Eleanor’s heart pounded as if it were trying to get out. “We’re here to address what happened last night,” the Alpha said, voice crisp and final. “First: Aleanor will begin special training and education because of her white wolf. She needs guidance to develop her abilities and reach the full potential expected of a revered white wolf.” Aleanor’s face tightened. Training was never her favorite subject; she preferred attention, parties, and Ade’s company—anything that didn’t require discipline. The Alpha’s gaze shifted. “Second: Eleanor’s schooling,” he announced, grave. “Eleanor, I know you’ve aimed to become a pack doctor. Your grades have been excellent. But the pack won’t support that path any longer.” Eleanor went still. The words didn’t just disappoint her. They dropped through her like a trapdoor. “Why?” she asked, stunned. “As an omega, your role will be reconsidered after high school,” the Alpha said, blunt as stone. “We are not paying expensive scholarships for omegas, nor funding them to leave pack territory.” Her vision seemed to narrow. She had spent her whole life building that future—studying, pushing, planning every step. And now it was being taken from her as if it had never been hers. She drew breath to argue. Her father cut her off. “Behave, Eleanor.” His beta aura rolled out with the command, crushing in a way she had never felt before. Until tonight—until she had become omega—she had been able to stand beside it. Now it pressed down on her like a weight meant to force her into place. Eleanor swallowed every protest. Her chin dipped. Submission tasted bitter. The Alpha spoke again, and Eleanor’s stomach tightened because she already knew where it was going. “The third matter,” he said, measured, “is Ade’s mate. I spoke with him again this morning. His choice is Aleanor—as his chosen mate.” Even prepared, Eleanor paled. Her hands went cold. The decision landed like a punch. She could feel Aleanor’s glare like heat against her skin, full of hate. Eleanor stared only at the Alpha. If she looked anywhere else, she might shatter. “But I’m a traditional Alpha,” he continued, unwavering. “I honor the Moon Goddess. Because of that, I will accept Ade’s decision after one month from today. Until then, he will not issue the rejection.” Aleanor made a sound of pure outrage. A single stern look from the Alpha cut it short. “A decision like this demands careful thought,” he said. “Regret ruins people. I want Ade completely certain before he gives up a fated mate for a chosen one.” When the Alpha’s family finally left, the house didn’t feel lighter. The tension stayed, settling into the walls. Audrey called to them from the dining area, voice strained but trying. “Breakfast is ready. Come eat.” Aleanor’s response was immediate and sharp. “I’m not eating at the same table while the omega is here,” she said, dripping contempt. Then she stormed upstairs, leaving silence behind like wreckage. Eleanor looked at her parents, searching for something—any flicker of fairness, any sign they remembered she was still their daughter. Resentment stared back. As if she had chosen this. As if she had asked to be made lesser. “What’s wrong with you?” sat on her tongue, but it came out quieter. “I’m not hungry,” she told her mother, voice dull. “I’ll eat later.” She turned away and went back to her room. In the dim quiet, everything she’d held onto finally broke loose. Tears came hard and unstoppable—grief for the mate she was about to lose, grief for the doctor she might never become. Each sob carried the weight of what had been stripped from her in a single night. And as the sound of her crying filled the space, Eleanor could only feel the same crushing truth pressing down again and again: there was no room for her here, not anymore. Chapter 5: A Fresh Circle of Hell Monday arrived as if the weekend had been erased. Eleanor moved through the next day in a daze, still trying to fit the word omega into her life without choking on it. In less than twenty-four hours, everything that used to feel stable had tilted, and she kept waiting to wake up and find the floor back where it belonged. Morning light only made it worse. With two weeks left in the school year, she didn’t need anyone to confirm what she already knew—news like that didn’t stay quiet inside a pack. She dressed anyway, hands a little unsteady, and told herself she could survive one more day. Black jeans. Plain white t-shirt. Backpack slung over her shoulder like armor that didn’t quite fit. Downstairs, she forced brightness into her voice when she greeted her parents. They answered, but only technically—few words, no warmth. The space between them felt wider than the kitchen. She reached for an apple, meaning to toss it into her bag, when steps sounded behind her. Aleanor appeared, and Eleanor’s stomach dropped. The look on her sister’s face wasn’t just irritation. It was disgust—pure, sharp hatred, like Eleanor had turned into something rotten overnight. Outside, the air cut cold against Eleanor’s skin. A car was parked near the driveway. Ade. He was waiting for Aleanor. For a heartbeat, his eyes pinned Eleanor as if he wanted to say something, as if there was a conversation hovering between them. Eleanor’s feet almost moved on their own—until Aleanor’s voice sliced through the moment. “Keep your eyes where they belong, omega,” Aleanor said, each syllable loaded. “And stay away from my mate.” Eleanor didn’t answer. Her chest tightened around the word mate, and she knew—she just knew—this wasn’t the worst of it. It was an opening. School confirmed it. The hallways, which used to be merely tolerable, had turned into a display case with Eleanor inside it. People stared as if she’d grown horns. Whispers chased her past lockers and classrooms. She had never been anyone’s favorite, but she’d learned how to move unnoticed. Now, she couldn’t disappear even if she tried. At her locker, the first punch landed: stickers slapped across the metal, all announcing the same word—omega. When she yanked it open, humiliation waited inside. A small broom and dustpan had been placed neatly among her books, a silent instruction about where she belonged in the pack’s order. Eleanor gathered her things with stiff hands and went to class. For the first few periods, the cruelty kept itself restrained—murmurs, sideways looks, laughter that stopped when she turned. She almost convinced herself she’d imagined the worst. Then lunchtime came. The canteen was loud, bright, and nowhere to hide. Eleanor scanned for an empty table, planning to eat quickly and leave. Aleanor’s group found her before she could take three steps. Diana led them, chin lifted, smile too pleased with itself. The others clustered behind her like a chorus waiting for a cue. “Well, look at that,” Diana said, dragging the moment out. “The omega celebrity.” Eleanor kept her face blank and tried to walk past. Diana moved with her, staying in the way. “What’s wrong?” she asked, feigning concern as contempt sharpened her eyes. “Can’t you find your own kind to sit with?” The girls behind her laughed, loud enough to pull more attention. Eleanor felt tears gathering—hot, unwanted. She swallowed them down and kept going, refusing to give Diana the satisfaction. Words weren’t enough for Diana. She reached to a nearby table, snatched a glass of lemonade, and tipped it over Eleanor’s head. Cold sugar drenched Eleanor’s hair, ran down her neck, soaked her shirt. The smell clung instantly. Diana leaned in, voice low and vicious. “This should help you remember to look at the ground and mind your own business—especially around someone else’s mate.” The canteen reacted in waves—gasps, then laughter, then the sickening hum of everyone deciding Eleanor deserved it. Eleanor stood there for a second too long, frozen in a humiliation so intense it felt like heat under her skin. Then she turned and ran. The bathroom was empty when she stumbled in. She locked herself in front of the sink and scrubbed at her hair and clothes, trying to erase the sticky evidence. Her hands shook. Her throat burned. And then pain tore through her abdomen like a blade. A scream escaped before she could stop it. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as another wave hit—worse, deeper, as if something inside her had latched on and was ripping. Her heartbeat didn’t soothe it; every pulse spread the agony, turning her whole body into an echo chamber for suffering. The stabbing came again. And again. Eleanor’s knees buckled. She dropped to the tiled floor, trembling so hard her teeth clicked. Tears slipped down her face and mixed with the water she’d splashed everywhere. “Luna,” she gasped, fighting for breath through the pain. “What’s happening?” Inside her, Luna whimpered—weak, hurting too. “It’s our mate,” Luna answered, voice broken. “He’s with someone else.” The meaning landed like a crushing blow. Ade. Her mate. Sleeping with someone else—while their bond made Eleanor pay for it. Eleanor curled inward, arms wrapped around herself as if she could hold her insides together. The pain didn’t care. It kept coming, merciless and rhythmic, and in the middle of it she wondered how a person was supposed to survive betrayal that was literally carved into the body. That evening she made it home on exhaustion alone. Her classmates had been worse by the end of the day—shoves in the hallway, insults tossed like trash, hands that “accidentally” hit too hard. Aleanor’s influence was everywhere, pressing down on her like a thumb. Eleanor walked through the front door already braced for a fight. If she didn’t confront this now, it would swallow her. When Aleanor showed herself, Eleanor gathered the little courage she had left. “Aleanor,” she said, voice quiet but steady, “can we talk? Please?” “I don’t talk to omegas,” Aleanor snapped, contempt curling her lip. Eleanor’s hands clenched. She forced herself not to flinch. “You proved your point today,” she said, tired down to the bone. “Call off your gonnies. Leave me alone.” Aleanor’s anger flared hotter. “Ade is mine,” she hissed. “And you—just you existing—makes our family look filthy. You deserve every second of what you get. More than that, even.” The words stung, but Eleanor kept her face still. She wouldn’t feed Aleanor with visible hurt. “I don’t want Ade,” Eleanor said, though her voice shook. “Keep him.” “Liar!” Aleanor’s shout rang through the house. “I saw you this morning. I saw how you looked at him.” Her eyes glittered with promise. “This is only the start, sister. Only the start. Ms. Perfect Grades.” Eleanor stood there as the threat settled into the room like smoke. It wasn’t a single bad day. It was a system Aleanor intended to build around her. And it did build. Over the following days, school became something Eleanor endured minute by minute. The cruelty turned physical—pushes that sent her into lockers, slaps disguised as accidents, fingers yanking her backpack, insults shouted just loud enough to be heard. Mockery waited everywhere, relentless, creative, bored with itself and always escalating. But nothing matched what Ade’s behavior did to her. Every time he was with someone else, the bond punished her all over again. By the end of a week, Eleanor hardly resembled herself. In the school bathroom mirror, she stared at a face drained of sleep and color. Dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes. Her shirt—once clean, once something she didn’t have to think about—was stained from yet another cafeteria “accident.” She looked like she’d been living in someone else’s war. And her abdomen… The black marks there were the worst. Painful, ugly proof of the damage Ade’s actions had already done. Each bruise felt like the bond itself was cracking, stretched near breaking by his disregard. Through all of it, Luna stayed. Weakened, hurting, but present—pressing comfort into Eleanor’s mind, offering what little healing she could manage. Without Luna, Eleanor was sure she would have sunk completely, swallowed by despair that kept trying to claim her. One afternoon, Luna spoke softly, like she was afraid of startling Eleanor apart. “Eleanor,” she asked, “go to our mate. Tell him he’s hurting us.” Eleanor swallowed. “Luna… we can’t.” “Why not?” Luna insisted, voice trembling but stubborn. “We’re already drowning in pain. Try. The Moon Goddess wouldn’t have tied us to someone who’s truly cruel. Please, Eleanor. For us.” So Eleanor tried. She sat on the bleachers overlooking the football field, heart thudding hard enough to make her dizzy. Determination held hands with fear inside her chest. If this kept going for a month, she knew they wouldn’t survive it—not her, not Luna. Ade was on the field when she arrived, his attention elsewhere, his expression light for once. Then his gaze swept toward her. Joy snapped into fury the moment their eyes met. After class ended, Eleanor forced herself off the bleachers and walked toward him. Every step felt like moving toward a cliff edge. Ade didn’t soften. “What do you want?” he asked, voice tight, eyes narrowed. Eleanor drew in a shaking breath. “I know you love my sister,” she said, words careful, fragile. “But… please. Can you stop doing this to me until you reject me? Three weeks. Just until then.” His face twisted with irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never did anything to you.” Eleanor’s throat tightened. “I feel it,” she said, and her voice cracked. “Every time you’re with her—or anyone. It tears me apart.” She lifted her shirt. The bruises were stark against her skin, dark and ugly. Proof she hadn’t been imagining it. Proof she wasn’t weak—just bound. “You’re killing me,” she whispered. “And you’re killing my wolf. Every day. Please—just stop for these three weeks. That’s all I’m asking.” Ade stared. Shock crossed his features, and then something like guilt clouded his eyes. His voice dropped, barely there. “I… I didn’t know.” Eleanor blinked fast against the tears threatening to spill. She lowered her shirt, turned away before he could see her crumble, and walked off the field with her chest full of words she couldn’t make safe. She didn’t notice Aleanor. But Aleanor had seen everything. From where she stood, she watched Eleanor leave, watched the space between Eleanor and Ade, watched the way Ade had looked—shaken. Aleanor’s hands curled into fists. Her jaw tightened until it looked painful. “You rat,” she muttered, voice coated in venom. “After everything I told you, you still don’t know how to listen.” Her earlier tricks hadn’t been enough. Eleanor hadn’t disappeared. Eleanor had dared to approach. Aleanor’s eyes hardened, calculation replacing shock. If the old torment hadn’t worked, she would make something worse. A slow, ugly smile lifted her mouth as she made herself a promise: she would tighten her grip on Ade, and she would crush whatever stubborn hope Eleanor still had. A new phase was starting. Chapter 6: Schemes and a Getaway After another mind-numbing tutoring session with the pack’s elders, Aleanor walked out glowing. The praise, the fawning looks, the way everyone suddenly treated her like she mattered—she drank it in. Ever since a white wolf had appeared in her, her standing had risen higher than anyone would’ve dared imagine. Luna Catherine and Alpha Bradley had been showering her with gifts and favors, and Aleanor had been enjoying every expensive second of it. Ade’s devotion only sweetened the rush. His promises—her as his Luna, their future already spoken aloud—kept her confidence pinned to the sky. Almost perfect. One thing still spoiled it. Eleanor. Twins meant nothing to Aleanor. She had never felt sisterly warmth toward Eleanor, only a stubborn irritation she couldn’t shake. Eleanor’s awkwardness, her too-correct manners, the way she always seemed to be trying to do the “right” thing—it all scraped Aleanor raw. They had never been close, but it had gotten worse the moment Aleanor decided Ade belonged to her. Ade and Eleanor had once been inseparable, best friends in a way Aleanor found unacceptable. She couldn’t tolerate sharing him with anyone—least of all with her own sister. So she had chipped away at that friendship until it cracked, then kept going until there was space only for her. Then the truth had landed like a blade: Eleanor was Ade’s fated mate. Aleanor’s carefully stacked world had nearly toppled in an instant. In her mind, Ade was everything that mattered—good-looking, wealthy, and born to become Alpha. To lose him to an omega twin? It was unthinkable. She would be Luna. No matter what. When the day’s lessons finally ended, she headed through the pack house already thinking about finding Ade and pulling him into another heated escape. Halfway there, a familiar pull tightened behind her eyes. Tempest. Aleanor exhaled through her nose, already bracing for the same argument. With reluctance, she let her wolf rise closer. “Aleanor… please,” Tempest begged, desperation threading her voice. “You have to stop. Ade isn’t our fated mate.” Aleanor’s annoyance flared instantly. “Tempest, we’ve been over this. Ade is our mate. He’s the future Alpha—the most wanted man in the whole pack. Why would I choose anything else?” “What if our real mate is out there?” Tempest pressed, soft but stubborn. “What if we’re forcing ourselves into something that will never fit? We could be losing something real.” Aleanor’s patience snapped. “Enough. I’ve decided. I’m not discussing it again. We belong at Ade’s side, and that’s final. Accept it—you will be Luna.” Tempest recoiled as if struck, whimpering as she sank back into the deepest part of Aleanor’s mind. The retreat left Aleanor with an unsettled edge she didn’t want to admit to. Tempest had been doing this since their bond had formed—always warning, always urging her to wait. But Aleanor refused to imagine a life tied to someone lesser. A Beta. A common warrior. Anyone without power. No. Ade was the path. The crown. The only option. Already inside the pack house, she turned toward Alpha’s floor with a bright, practiced smile and climbed the stairs like she belonged there. In Ade’s room, the shower was running. Her pulse jumped. She stripped off her dress quickly, leaving only her underwear, already anticipating his hands, his hungry stare, the way he usually moved to her without hesitation. When Ade came out, heat still clung to his skin—and his eyes did darken when he saw her. The shape under his underwear betrayed exactly what he wanted. But instead of crossing the room, he turned away and started pulling on clothes. Aleanor blinked, then snapped, “What the hell is this? Why are you acting like I’m not here?” He faced her, jaw tight, expression caught between guilt and restraint. “I’m not ignoring you,” he said, too controlled. “This is the first time you’ve ever turned me down,” she shot back, stepping closer. “So tell me. Where do you suddenly need to be?” He hesitated, then spoke carefully. “What we’re doing is hurting Eleanor.” Aleanor’s stomach turned hot with fury. “Hurting her how?” “She can feel it,” he admitted, eyes steady. “Through the mate bond. It never crossed my mind she’d be affected like that, and the backlash is ...

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