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Ayla's POV. I stared at the bathroom mirror, toothbrush hanging from my mouth, foam bubbling on my lips like a bad joke. ‘Try to think positive,’ my wolf whispered inside me, her voice was soft and annoyingly hopeful. I groaned. Positive? In this house? In this life? I spat into the sink and rinsed. “There’s nothing to be positive about,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The bathroom was cold. The water barely warmed up before turning icy again, like the Dam heater knew I didn’t have time to wait around. I took the fastest shower of my life, shivering through half of it and drying off with a towel that smelled like it hadn’t seen detergent in weeks. My clothes were the usual...hoodie, jeans, worn-out sneakers. Nothing anyone would look twice at. I tugged the sleeves down over my hands and shoved my damp hair into a messy ponytail. My stomach growled as I walked down the hallway. It shut up the second I reached the bottom step and saw the man in the kitchen. Another one. He was tall, muscular, probably older than my mom by at least a decade. Shirtless. His jeans hung low, boxers showing, like he belonged in a beer commercial. He had tattoos, too...some kind of tribal cra'ap inked across his chest...and he was drinking orange juice straight from the bottle, standing in front of the open fridge like it was his Dam house. “Morning,” he said when he saw me, voice rough like gravel. I didn’t answer. Just kept walking. This wasn’t new. It wasn’t even shocking. It was routine. Every other morning, it was a different man. Some were quiet. Some were loud. Some tried to talk to me. Some tried to touch me. I’d learned how to make myself invisible before I even turned fourteen. He scratched his jaw and turned back to the fridge. I headed for the kitchen, nearly bumping into her. My mom. She wore one of those flimsy, see-through nightgowns that left nothing to the imagination. Her makeup was smudged under her eyes, and her hair looked like she’d just rolled off someone’s lap. Probably had. “Oh, you’re up,” she said flatly, like my presence annoyed her more than surprised her. “You could’ve let me sleep in. You stomped down the stairs.” “I didn’t stomp,” I muttered, brushing past her. “You did. And maybe if you weren’t always sulking around this house like it’s a funeral, you’d...” she paused to yawn “...make life easier for both of us.” I opened the fridge. Empty. Aside from that same dam orange juice. The bottle the stranger was just drinking from. I slammed it shut again. “No hello? No thank you? This is the kind of daughter I get after I sacrificed everything for you?” she said suddenly, voice sharp. I turned slowly to face her. “Sacrificed?” I said under my breath. She narrowed her eyes. “I was mated to an Alpha, Ayla. Do you know what that meant for me? For my future? I was set. I was respected. Until I got drunk, had a fling with a man that I didn't even know his name. Then I frigging got pregnant. With you.” I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “But I didn’t ask to be born.” Her eyes flashed, like I’d hit a nerve, but she looked away quickly. Like always. She didn’t want a fight. She wanted guilt. But I didn’t have any left to give. Right then, he stepped into the kitchen. The same guy. Now standing behind her, and before I could turn away, he leaned in and kissed her neck. Right there. In front of me. I nearly gagged. My appetite vanished instantly. Not like it was strong to begin with. I grabbed the protein bar on the counter, tore it open with my teeth, and walked toward the door. “I’m going to school,” I said, chewing. “Try not to ruin anyone else’s life while you’re at it,” she called after me, her tone sarcastic. I froze at the door but didn’t turn around. My chest tightened, just for a second...but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing that. I yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind me. The cold morning air hit me like a slap as soon as I stepped outside. I pulled my hoodie tighter around me and started walking. No bus. No ride. Just my two feet and a fifteen-minute trek through the pack’s residential zone...where every perfect lawn, every new car, and every smiling family felt like a reminder that I didn’t belong here. I kept my head down, watching the cracks in the pavement, the uneven patches of dirt, the scuffed toes of my sneakers. ‘She called us a mistake again,’my wolf muttered, sounding groggy and pissed off. ‘You’d think she’d get bored of that line by now.’ “She won’t,” I mumbled, stuffing the rest of the protein bar in my mouth. “It’s her favorite.” ‘You should’ve said something.’ “What? ‘Sorry for ruining your life, Mom, next time I’ll ask the Moon Goddess to let me pick better parents’?” My wolf growled lowly. ‘I hate this place.’ “Same.” We went quiet after that. She always disappeared when I needed her the most. Lazy thing. Half the time I wasn’t even sure she was awake. I walked faster when I saw the school gates up ahead. Briar Ridge High. Pack-run, like everything else around here. Students clustered in small groups outside, laughing, talking, showing off expensive bags and shiny new phones. No one looked at me. Not yet. But they would. They always did. I lowered my head even more and slipped through the gate. The second I stepped into the hallway, the atmosphere shifted. Like the air changed. I felt it. Eyes. And then...bam. Someone slammed into my shoulder, hard enough to jolt my bag off balance. “Watch it,” the guy snapped. I staggered back a step. “S-sorry.” He didn’t even glance at me as he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. His friends laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. I swallowed the lump in my throat and adjusted my bag. Don’t cry. Just keep walking. Don’t look up. Keep your head down. Whispers started before I even reached my locker. “Why is she still here?” “I’d transfer if I had to share a class with her.” The words weren’t loud. They didn’t have to be. They hissed through the air like poison. I felt them more than I heard them. Like sharp little needles sliding under my skin. I opened my locker slowly, hands trembling, pretending like I didn’t hear any of it. Like it didn’t matter. But it did. Every word. Every glance. Every laugh behind a hand. I was an omega in a school full of ranked wolves. The bottom of the bottom. But I wasn’t just that. I was her...the cursed girl, the one everyone hated. The girl the most important person of the pack refused to acknowledge. Not as a classmate. Not as a packmate. Not even as a living, breathing person. I’d been here for four years, and not a single person had ever sat next to me willingly. I stood there, staring blankly at my textbooks. Not moving. Not thinking. ‘You okay?’ my wolf asked, suddenly sounding a little more awake. I didn’t answer. ‘We should skip today,’ she said. ‘scr'w this place. Let’s go lie in the woods. Sleep. Breathe. Hide. Please?’ “We can’t,” I whispered. ‘Why not?’ “Because if I leave, they win.” Silence. Even she didn’t have a comeback for that. So I slammed my locker shut and immediately froze because I wasn't prepared for what next I saw. It was Rowan. The second my eyes landed on him, all the air vanished from my lungs. Ayla's POV. He looked different. Taller. Broader. His jaw was sharper now, clenched like he was constantly biting back rage. His dark hair was messy in that careless, expensive way that made girls lose their minds. But it was his eyes...those cold, wild eyes...that paralyzed me. They weren’t just cold anymore. They were deadly. He stared at me like I was filth stuck to the bottom of his boot. A mistake the moon goddess hadn’t cleaned up yet. The hatred in his gaze was so sharp it cut into me like a blade. Before I could even blink, he was in front of me. And then... slam. My back hit the lockers so hard I saw stars. The sound echoed down the hall, followed by a stunned silence. My head snapped back, metal biting into the base of my skull. The hallway froze. “Look who decided to crawl out of whatever sewer she’s been hiding in,” Rowan muttered, voice dark and venomous. “The pathetic little leech.” I barely had time to raise my hands before he grabbed my wrists and slammed them above my head, pinning me like I was made of paper. His grip was brutal. Unforgiving. He leaned in close, and I flinched as his breath ghosted over my cheek. I could smell his cologne...something rich, dangerous, something that didn’t belong to a boy anymore. Because he wasn’t just a boy. He was already Alpha. Crowned two months ago on his 18th birthday. King of Crimson Paw territory. Feared. Worshipped. Untouchable. “What...what are you doing?” I whispered. His lips twisted into a cruel smirk that never touched his eyes. “Making sure the curse didn’t do my job for me,” he said flatly. “Guess you’re still breathing. Shame.” My throat closed up. I could feel every pair of eyes on me. No one moved. No one breathed. No one dared stop him. Because it was Rowan Thornridge. And I was his perfect target. He ripped the strap of my backpack off my shoulder like it was garbage. It hit the floor with a dull thud that somehow sounded final. “You still can’t even look at people,” he sneered, grabbing my chin and yanking it up. “Still walking around like a kicked mutt. Still acting like you belong here.” He laughed...cold and sharp. “I should have you dragged out of this school like the disgrace you are.” I felt the sting behind my eyes. My chest burned. He leaned in again, so close I could feel the heat of his anger rolling off him. “You don’t belong here, Ayla,” he said, voice like ice over fire. “You don’t belong anywhere.” I tried to speak. Tried to breathe. Nothing came out. His eyes raked over me like I was something rotting in the sun. His lip curled in disgust. “Still weak. Still disgusting. Still the same useless little mistake,” he spat. “If it weren’t for this dam bond...” He stopped. But I knew what he meant. The mate bond. I felt my wolf stir inside me, small and trembling, too frightened to come forward. Too wounded to fight. “Please...” I whispered. “Just stop.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was forcing himself not to do more. His eyes moved for a split second...rage, pain, something I couldn’t name...but it vanished just as quickly. He stepped back like I physically repulsed him. No apology. No hesitation. No regret. Just pure, burning hatred. And silence. He turned and walked away without looking back. I sagged against the lockers, my knees buckling. My breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. My heart wouldn’t stop racing. No one came. No one helped. No one even blinked. Because it was him. Rowan Thornridge. The crowned Alpha. The untouchable king of Crimson Paw . The twin brother of Jace. Jace, who used to be my only friend when my mom and I first moved here. Jace, who sat next to me when everyone else moved away. Jace, who died protecting me during the rogue attack two years ago. Jace, who died holding my hand. Because of me. And Rowan...Rowan saw everything. He was the one who found us. Who dropped to his knees in the dirt, screaming, cradling his brother’s lifeless body like the world had ended. That was the moment the mate bond snapped into place. Me. I was his mate. The girl he hated more than anyone. The one he blamed for every second of pain he ever felt. He never told anyone. Neither did I. But I felt it. In every glare. Every insult. Every violent touch. He couldn’t reject me. So instead… He was going to break me. And he was doing a dam good job at it. The bell rang. A sharp, piercing sound that made me flinch like a gunshot. Just like that, the hallway came back to life. Shoes squeaked against the tile floors. Lockers slammed. Voices rose, low and murmuring like I wasn’t still standing there, trying to keep my lungs working. I didn’t move. Not until the last stragglers had passed by, still whispering and glancing at me like I was a piece of garbage they had to walk around. I finally bent down and grabbed my backpack off the floor. The strap was torn. Figures. I slung it over one shoulder and forced my feet to move. I had three more months of this. Just three. Then I was out of here. Off to Silvermist University…one of the top werewolf universities in the entire continent, far away in Glacier Fang territory. A place where no one would know me. No one would look at me and see the cursed, broken mate of the Alpha. Just three more months. I could survive it. Couldn’t I? I stepped into my classroom and instantly felt it. The shift. The atmosphere. People were already in their seats, whispering in tight circles, snickering when I passed. I kept my eyes on the floor, my shoulders hunched. I was good at this. Invisible. Silent. Unseen. And unwanted. No one made space for me. No one ever did. I slipped into my usual seat at the back…second row from the window, farthest from the front. I sat down. And immediately froze. Something squished under me. Sticky. Cold. Wet. My heart dropped. I shifted. Tried to stand. But I couldn’t. I tried again. Still stuck. No. No, no, no… I reached down, panicking, and felt it. Glue. A thick, disgusting smear of cold glue spread across the seat of my chair…and now across the back of my jeans. Someone set this up. My chest constricted, the heat crawling up my neck. I yanked harder, but it was stuck tight, strings of glue stretching with every desperate tug. Laughter erupted behind me. And then to my left. And then across the room. Loud. Cruel. Unforgiving. “Oh my god,” someone snorted. “She actually sat on it.” “Didn’t even check first. What a loser.” “She’s probably used to being stuck to trash.” More laughter. Loud and sharp and endless. I stayed frozen, my nails digging into the desk, my vision blurring. I could feel the glue clinging to me like a mark. A scar. A stain that everyone could see. I didn’t dare turn around. Didn’t dare look at them. Because I already knew. It wasn’t Rowan this time. It was her. Celeste Kingsley. The queen bee of Crimson High. On-again, off-again girlfriend of Rowan Thornridge. She wore her status like a crown and her cruelty like perfume. Expensive, poisonous, and impossible to ignore. Her signature laugh rang out across the room…sharp, shrill, the kind that made your skin crawl. Her clique of girls surrounded her like satellites, Amber, Lacey, and Vee…laughing so hard they nearly doubled over. “Poor little Ayla,” Celeste cooed mockingly. “Did the mutt forget how chairs work?” “Or maybe she thought it was a treat,” Vee added, grinning. “You know, like a bone. Something to chew on.” Amber gagged dramatically. “Ugh, she’s so gross. It’s like she collects humiliation.” “I’m pretty sure the moon goddess made her as a joke,” Lacey said, not even bothering to whisper. Ayla's POV. I couldn’t move. I was still stuck. My heart thudded so loud it drowned out the laughter. The glue had spread across the back of my jeans like it had been poured there by the gallon. Thick. Cold. Clingy. The longer I stayed, the worse it got. I pulled again, hard enough to rip skin, but it was no use. I was welded to the chair like it was some kind of sick punishment throne. They were still laughing. Still watching. Like this was a dayum circus. I couldn’t breathe. A second later, the door swung open. Mr. Harrows walked in, carrying his old brown satchel and а-'cup of coffee like it was just another Tuesday. Then he saw me. He froze. The classroom went quiet for one heartbeat...just one...and then the whispers came back, quieter now but still sharp enough to slice through me. “Miss Ayla,” he said, blinking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you…?” “I can’t get up,” I choked. My voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel. “Someone put glue on my chair.” More laughter. Stifled this time. Covered by hands. But it was there. “Oh, for heaven’s...” Mr. Harrows pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of it. “Alright. Don’t move. Stay right there.” Like I had a choice. He walked out, muttering something under his breath. I could feel every eye in the room burning into me. I stared straight ahead, blinking fast, willing the tears not to fall. I could still hear them behind me...snickers, coughs meant to hide giggles, Celeste whispering loudly enough for the whole room to hear, “She should’ve just sat on the floor with the rest of the dogs.” I dug my nails into my palms. Five minutes later, Mr. Harrows came back...with two janitors trailing behind him. One was this older guy with a limp and a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. The other was younger, maybe in his twenties, tall, chewing gum like he didn’t care about anything. They stopped when they saw me. “You’re kidding,” the younger one muttered. “Glue,” Mr. Harrows confirmed, pointing. “Chair’s ruined. We’re going to need to...” “I can’t just rip her off,” the older janitor said, frowning. “That stuff’ll tear the fabric. And probably her skin.” The younger one shrugged. “Guess we take the whole chair.” What? “No...wait...” I started, but it was too late. They were already moving. I felt one of them grab the bottom of the chair while the other steadied the top. I was still stuck. Still frozen. “This is gonna feel weird,” one of them said. “Count to three.” “I...” “One...” They yanked. The whole chair came with me. Laughter exploded around the room. Not quiet this time. Loud. Cruel. Unfiltered. “Oh my god,” someone shouted. “They’re actually carrying her out!” “She’s part of the chair now,” another voice laughed. Mr. Harrows barked, “Enough!” But it didn’t matter. Because there I was...being carried out of the classroom like I was furniture. My face was on fire. My chest was tight. My arms trembled as I gripped the sides of the glued-down seat. The hallway outside was mercifully empty, but that didn’t make it any better. My dignity was still shredded into confetti behind me. “We’re taking you to the maintenance room,” the older janitor said. “Only place with proper solvents.” “Can’t she just take the pants off?” the younger one asked. “Wouldn’t that be faster?” I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “I...no...I can’t...” “We’ll get someone,” Mr. Harrows said stiffly. “Female staff. Just hang in there, Ayla.” Hang in there. Right. By the time we reached the end of the hallway, two female school workers were waiting. One of them was Nurse Brina, kind-eyed but nervous, and the other was Miss Claude from the front office, already shaking her head. “Oh, honey…” Nurse Brina said softly. “We’re gonna have to...look, I’m sorry, sweetie...but those pants have to come off. There’s no way around it.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. They brought me into a small backroom...bare, dusty, shelves packed with old cleaning supplies...and closed the door. “We’ll keep your top on,” Miss Claude said quickly. “But you need to let us help you out of those jeans.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But I was so tired. So dayum tired. I just nodded. Tears slipped down my face as they helped me unbutton my jeans, holding the chair steady. I shut my eyes tight, humiliated beyond anything I’d ever felt. The jeans peeled slowly...glue clinging, stretching, then finally snapping free. By the time they were off, my legs were red and raw. The jeans were ruined. Covered in dried glue and ripped at the seams. One of the women dumped them straight into a trash bag. Nurse Brina handed me something. “Here,” she said gently. “Only thing we had in the emergency locker. Lost and found didn’t have anything in your size.” It was a pair of janitor work pants. Men’s. Huge. Baggy. Grey. Faded. I put them on with shaking hands. They sagged awkwardly at the waist, cinched with a string of tape, legs bunched around my sneakers. I looked like I was playing dress-up in my dad’s clothes. As if I had one. When I stepped back into the hallway, dragging my ruined pride with me, the bell rang for second period. Perfect timing. I walked back to class like a ghost. My head was down. My cheeks burned. The second I stepped in, they saw me. And then… Laughter. Again. Celeste cackled so loud she had to lean on her desk. “Did they lose her pants? Oh my god. Look at her. She’s wearing trash man pants!” Vee whistled. “Ayla the Janitor. Has a nice ring to it.” Mr. Harrows slammed his hand on his desk. “Enough!” The room went quiet. But the damage was done. They were still grinning. Still whispering. Even with the teacher’s glare drilling into them, they couldn’t help themselves. And me? I just stood there. For a second, I thought about running. Just bolting out the door, out of the school, out of this dayum town. But I didn’t. I walked to my seat. The one that had betrayed me. The chair was gone now...replaced with a plastic one. Like none of it had ever happened. I sat down slowly, the oversized pants rustling around me. I kept my eyes down, hands clenched in my lap, body stiff. And that’s when it hit me. They didn’t just laugh because of what happened. They laughed because they could. Because no one would stop them. Because I was easy. I was Ayla. The cursed girl. The broken mate. The girl no one wanted to claim. Not even the moon goddess. Even my wolf had gone quiet...curled somewhere deep inside me, small and ashamed. She didn’t come forward. She didn’t say anything. Just let me sit there in silence while the classroom moved on like I wasn’t still drowning. I sat there for the next hour, barely hearing the lesson. Barely moving. Barely anything. I didn’t even realize I was still shaking until I dropped my pen. No one offered to pick it up. Of course they didn’t. No one looked at me. Not really. They just looked through me. Like I was less than invisible. Like I was already gone. Ayla's POV. I survived the rest of the day. Somehow. A few more dumb comments. A trip in the hallway. Someone dumped their juice box on my backpack "by accident." I didn’t say anything. Just wiped it off and kept walking. They all knew. Knew I was easy to mess with. Because my wolf was weak. They remembered what happened last year, even if no one said it out loud anymore. I had shifted once. Just once. Matt Doyle cornered me after training, said some things he shouldn’t have. I snapped. Let my wolf out. Or…tried to. She came halfway. Then froze. I remember the moment. Clear as day. My paws hit the ground…then she panicked. Bolted back. Mid-shift. I collapsed. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. And he stood there laughing while I clawed at the dirt. Everyone saw. They never forgot. I was the girl whose wolf ran away from a fight. Now the bell rang. Last one. Thank God. I walked out with my head down, one strap of my backpack broken, oversized janitor pants still clinging to my waist like a joke that wouldn't end. The afternoon sun was hot, and my skin itched under the fabric. I cut across the back of the school…hortcut to avoid the main road. That was when I heard the howls. The field. I paused. Voices. Laughter. Shifting sounds. And then I saw them. Shirts off. Sweat shinning. Laughing like they owned the world. Rowan and his pack. His beta, Beck, was grinning like a dayum model in a Nike ad. One of the others tossed a football across the field, catching it mid-shift with his teeth. They were fast. Strong. Wild. Untouchable. I should’ve turned around. But I didn’t. And he sensed me. Before I even stepped into the open. His head snapped up mid-run. Eyes glowing red. Locked right on me. Everything slowed. He shifted back with a roll of muscle and power, grabbing a towel from the bench. Then, like it was planned…like he knew it would kill me…he turned to Celeste. She was already walking toward him. Hair perfect. Lips glossed. Smiling like she’d won. And he pulled her in. Just like that. Pressed his mouth to hers. Hard. But his eyes…his Silly, gold-flecked eyes, stayed on me. He kissed her while looking at me. Like a warning. Like punishment. I stopped breathing. The bond between us screamed. Pulled. Ached. I felt it like a stab straight to the chest. My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside, but still didn’t come forward. Didn’t help. Just like always. They broke the kiss and Celeste turned to smirk at me, tugging his shirt over her shoulder like it belonged to her now. I turned away before I could cry. Didn’t run. Didn’t speak. Just walked. And with every step, the burn in my chest spread wider. He wasn’t going to reject me. He was going to let me rot. Right here. Where everyone could watch. I walked fast. Faster than I meant to. My hands were shaking. My vision still blurred from blinking away the tears, but I didn’t care. I had to get away. From the field. From their laughter. From him. But his voice was still in my head. That smirk. That look on his face when he kissed her…like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. I kept going, down the old trail behind the gym. The same one Jace and I used to walk when we needed to breathe. Or laugh. Or forget. Now it just felt haunted. By me. By everything I’d done. By everything I didn’t do. A stick cracked behind me. I froze. Then I heard it…low, fast footsteps. The pounding of paws slamming against dirt. Wolf form. My breath caught. No. No, please… I ran. Branches scratched my arms. My legs ached. My throat burned. But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Because I knew who it was. Rowan. I could feel him. That burning-hot electric thread pulling tighter with every step. Then… Crack. My foot hit a root. I tumbled forward. My shoulder slammed into the dirt first, then my hip, then my knees. The breath flew out of me in a rush. Everything spun. I groaned, trying to sit up… But then I felt him. That horrible heat. That scent I couldn’t escape. He was there. He shifted behind me, and then I heard his voice. "Wow," he said with a cruel laugh. "Was that supposed to be dramatic? Or are you just naturally that pathetic?" I turned over onto my back, gasping. Blood on my lip. Dirt in my mouth. And Rowan standing over me, bare chest gleaming with sweat, like he hadn’t even tried. His smirk was poison. “You really are hopeless.” "Leave me alone," I said, voice shaking. He crouched suddenly, grabbing my wrist and yanking me up…only to shove me back down again like I was some kind of rag doll. "You’ve got some nerve running away after the show you put on today,” he spat. “What was that look, huh? Puppy-dog eyes? Did you really think I’d kiss you?” I winced, trying to pull away, but he pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. Effortless. Like I was nothing. “You’re delusional,” he sneered. “No guy would ever kiss you. Not with that face. Not with what you are.” My chest heaved. “Stop…” “No. You need to hear this. You think the mate bond means someone actually wants you? You're a burden. A mistake. A freak in every sense of the word.” His face was so close, I could see every furious line etched into it. “You’re the reason Jace is dead.” I froze. The blood drained from my face, because here he was again. Shedding more guilt into my already broken heart. "You heard me." His voice was venomous. “You don’t deserve to live. You should’ve been the one who died, not him.” My heart stopped. “You don’t mean that,” I choked. He laughed…dark and cruel. “Oh, I do. Everyone thinks so. You're the worst thing to ever happen to this pack.” Tears burned behind my eyes. "Then reject me," I said suddenly, voice cracking. “If I’m so awful…just reject me. Break the bond.” He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “No.” I blinked, stunned. “What?” “I’ll never reject you,” he whispered, his voice was low and twisted with something cruel. “I want you to suffer. I want you to feel it. Every time I touch someone else. Every time I kiss them, I want your wolf to scream.” My lip trembled. He saw it. He loved it. “You want freedom?” he continued. “Too bad. You’re chained to me. Forever. And I’m going to make sure it ruins you.” "You're sick," I spat, trying to wrench my hands free. He didn’t flinch. “You think this is sick? This is me going easy.” I finally shoved hard enough that he stumbled back a step. I scrambled to my feet, chest heaving, eyes wild… But he caught me again. One arm around my waist. Dragged me back like I was nothing. "Say it," he hissed. “Say you want me to kiss you. Go on, beg. That's all you’re good at, isn’t it?” My fists pounded his chest. “I hate you!” "Good," he said, smiling with no warmth. “It makes it more fun.” And then he leaned in. Closer. His breath brushed my cheek, hot and cruel. His hand still gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the heat of his skin, the hard lines of his chest. My heart slammed against my ribs…too fast, too loud. His lips were just an inch away. And for one Silly, traitorous moment…my eyes fluttered shut. Because the bond wanted him. Even after everything. Even after he tore me down, humiliated me, shattered every piece of me…I still wanted him. I waited for the kiss like a fool. Then… Laughter. Cold. Mocking. Sharp enough to slice through bone. My eyes flew open. He wasn’t kissing me. He wasn’t even close. He was staring at me like I was dirt under his shoe. “You really thought I’d kiss you?” he said, voice thick with disgust. “How stubid can you be?” My face burned. Shame washed over me like acid, eating away whatever was left of my pride. My stomach twisted. I wanted to vanish. I wanted to scream. I wanted to die. Rowan’s POV. I couldn’t stop pacing. The walls of the mansion felt too tight tonight, like they were closing in on me, brick by brick, dragging my lungs with them. My boots sounded across the floor, my hands were fisted at my sides, and the silence around me was deafening...even with the weight of music pounding downstairs where the rest of the pack was drinking, laughing, breathing like they hadn’t buried someone two years ago. I couldn’t stand them. The way they all moved on. The way they forgot. Jace would’ve hated it. He always hated silence after a death. He was the kind of person who would’ve played guitar in the hallway just to keep me from thinking. Just to make me roll my eyes and tell him to shut on eаrth up. And now he was the silence. I stopped in front of the massive fireplace and stared at the flames like they owed me something. Like if I stared hard enough, maybe the past would twist backward and give him back. But all it gave me was Ayla. Ayla. That name tasted like blood every time it crossed my mind. I closed my eyes, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath the surface, pacing like I was. He hated this too. This bond. This curse. Because that was what she was. A curse wrapped in soft skin and fragile bones. A broken omega with eyes too big and a voice that trembled even when she wasn’t speaking. The girl Jace had died for. The girl I was bound to. I hated her from the second she and her mother showed up at the gates. I was twelve. Jace was twelve. She was eleven. And even then, I could feel it...something in the way Jace looked at her like she was the sun and he was just some moth trying to be worthy of its light. He stopped playing football with us. Stopped sneaking out at night. Started writing poems. fking poems, like a cliché loser from a movie. All because of her. “She’s different,” he told me one night, lying on our roof, eyes full of stars and hope. “She doesn’t care that I’m Alpha-blood. She just… sees me.” I remember laughing in his face. “Yeah, right. She probably just doesn’t know how to act around you like the rest.” But he didn’t laugh back. He looked at me, serious, stubborn. “You’ll see, Ro. She’s worth it.” She wasn’t. And the thing that made it worse? Jace already had a girlfriend. Liana. Pretty. Strong. The kind of girl our mother wanted Jace to end up with. She was Luna material…graceful, ambitious, sharp as god. And she hated Ayla from the moment she saw her. Jace tried to play it off for months. Said Ayla was just his friend. His best friend. Said she was like a little sister, that she didn’t threaten what he and Liana had. But Liana saw through him. Saw the way his eyes lingered a little too long when Ayla walked by. The way his voice softened when he talked about her. The way he made excuses to see her, to check on her, to protect her like she was made of glass. They fought about it all the time. “I’m not stubid, Jace,” I overheard Liana snapping one night behind the training hall. “You say she’s your friend, but I see the way you look at her. Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not lying,” Jace had said, voice low and tired. “You don’t understand. Ayla’s been through enough. She’s important to me. She’s... she’s just different.” Liana didn’t believe him. And honestly? I don’t think I did either. Because two years ago, on her sixteenth birthday...the day he planned to tell her how he felt, to finally confess it all...she got attacked. Rogues hit the pack borders harder than ever before. And Jace… Silly, selfless Jace… he ran to save her. I was minutes behind him. Just minutes. By the time I got there, the scent of blood was thick in the air. Jace’s body was slumped over hers like a godаm shield. She was sobbing, clutching him, her face covered in cuts and her hands shaking. She lived. He didn’t. And I never forgave her for that. I shouldn’t have. She should’ve died that night. Not him. Not him. And like some cruel joke from the Moon Goddess, the moment I dropped to my knees and screamed over his body, my wolf howled in my chest, not from grief...but from recognition. A mate bond. With her. The same girl he died saving. The girl he loved more than anything. The one person in this whole Dam pack he’d give his life for. And he did. And now she was mine. I let out a low growl and slammed my fist against the stone mantel, the crack echoing through the empty room. “Rowan?” someone called from behind me, snapping me out from that painful memory. Beck. Of course. Always checking in like I was about to break. “I’m fine,” I snapped without turning. Beck stepped in anyway, arms folded. “You don’t look fine.” I looked at him through the mirror above the fireplace. My reflection was wild...eyes glowing faintly, shirt clinging to my chest with leftover sweat from the run earlier, jaw tense. “I said I’m fine.” Beck gave a small shake of his head. “She didn’t even do anything tonight.” I turned around slowly. “What did you say?” “Ayla,” he said. “She just passed by. Didn’t look at you. Didn’t say a word. And yet you still...” “I don’t need you analyzing my choices,” I cut him off. “I told you to let it go.” He hesitated. “She’s still a member of this pack. You can’t keep pushing her like this.” “She’s not pack,” I hissed. “She’s the reason Jace is dead. Don’t ever forget that.” Beck looked away. Smart. I didn’t need his guilt. I already had my own. But I couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t reject her. That would be mercy. She didn’t deserve it. She needed to feel the pain. Every single day. I wanted her to suffer like I did. I wanted her to walk through hll, just like I had since the night I held my twin’s dead body. I stormed out of the room before Beck could say something else that would make me punch a wall. Again. The hallway was cold, darker than usual, the sconces moving like they were trying to warn me off. But I didn’t stop. My boots pounded the floor, the noise echoing off the walls like thunder. It suited me. Thunder felt right. It sounded like war. And war was coming. Not the kind with claws and teeth, but the kind that came with robes and scrolls and ancient laws written in blood. The kind that came with Council meetings. I shoved open the heavy oak doors of the Council Hall without knocking. They all turned...eight elders, each old enough to have witnessed at least four Alpha reigns. Their expressions varied...some annoyed, others tired. One or two wary. But not a single one dared to challenge me. Because I was Alpha. Because I’d earned it the moment Jace’s heart stopped and mine didn’t. The silence thickened as I strode to the head of the crescent-shaped table. I didn’t sit. I never did. That chair used to belong to my brother. Now it was just... empty. “Alpha Rowan,” Elder Marek greeted with that careful tone he always used, like he wasn’t sure if he was addressing a teenager or a loaded weapon. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.” “Then you should’ve,” I said, voice low, controlled. Elder Malina folded her hands in front of her, silver hair braided down her back. “The matter of the Luna, Alpha. It can’t be delayed much longer.” I didn’t respond. Not right away. Because every time they said that...“Luna”...all I heard was her name. All I saw was blood. Jace’s blood. “You know the laws,” Elder Rurik said, clearing his throat. “An Alpha must secure the bloodline. Strengthen the bond with the pack. Without a Luna...” “I’m not interested,” I cut in, voice sharp enough to draw blood. “We’re stable. We’ve reclaimed the borders, trained twice as hard, tripled rogue deterrents. You’ve all seen the numbers. We’re stronger than we’ve been in years.” “Yes,” Elder Malina said gently, “but not whole.” I narrowed my eyes. “Wholeness is a luxury. Not a necessity.” “Rowan,” Marek said again, softer this time. “You’re doing more than anyone expected. But you’re still young. And grieving. We don’t want to push...” “Then don’t.” “But tradition...” “Tradition buried my brother,” I growled, stepping closer, palms flat on the table. “Tradition let the rogues in. Tradition keeps demanding sacrifices, and I’m done offering up pieces of myself.” Malina flinched slightly. “We all miss Jace.” “You don’t get to say his name,” I snapped, eyes flashing. “Not like you knew him.” But they had. Jace had charmed them, earned their respect despite his age. Even at sixteen, he’d had the voice of a leader and the heart of a dayum king. He walked into this room once, long before I ever did, and they listened. Not because he was destined to be Alpha... but because he was already leading. He would’ve been a better ruler than I ever could be. And he would’ve done it with Ayla beside him. They never made it that far, though. Still... she owned him. And now I owned her. A twisted full circle. The silence in the council room stretched again. Elder Marek cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “The Seer has spoken,” he said slowly. “She claims the Moon Goddess has shown her a vision. That the Alpha has a mate. One he refuses to accept… nor reject.” My jaw tensed. “So now we believe in visions.” “When they shake the entire Circle with divine force?” Rurik answered, “Yes.” Malina leaned forward. “The Seer says your bond is alive. That it burns through the tether of this pack. That it’s affecting everything.” “Then maybe the Seer should stay out of my head.” “Rowan,” Marek said, choosing his words like they were weapons. “A mate is a gift. Whether you feel it or not. Whether she was expected or not.” “She is not going to be Luna,” I said coldly. “She might exist. She might wear the mark. But she will never rule beside me.” Malina gave me a pitying look I wanted to claw off her face. “Then you sentence yourself to a life of suffering.” “Good,” I muttered. “Then maybe I’ll finally feel something.” Ayla's POV. I knew it was past 8PM, but I couldn’t stay in that house one second longer. I didn’t even bother with a jacket. Just slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my phone, and bolted out the front door before I could hear the creak of her bed again. That creak always came before the laughter. The stubid giggles. The moaning. Then the music turned up too loud to cover the rest. My mom had another man over. Again. I didn’t wait to find out which one. I never cared to learn their names anymore. They all smelled like cigarettes, cheap cologne, and too much sweat. They talked too loud. Took up space that wasn’t even theirs. One of them had once tried to touch my hair in the hallway. I’d shoved him and locked myself in my room until he left. Mom never said a thing. I walked. I didn’t know where I was going. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. My legs ached from walking all the way from school earlier, but that didn’t matter either. As long as I was out of that house. The night air stung my cheeks, but I kept going. The streets were quieter now. Some stores were closing. Others still had their lights on. A few couples walked past me hand in hand. I looked down. I didn't want to see what I couldn't have. Then I saw it. A small restaurant. The lights were warm. Not yellow, not too white. Just warm. The kind that made you feel like maybe the people inside didn’t hate their lives. The sign above read: “Gloria’s Kitchen.” I stood at the window for a few seconds. There weren’t many people inside. Just two tables occupied. A man in a hoodie scrolling on his phone and a mother with two little kids eating what looked like spaghetti. Inside, a plump woman with short grey curls stood behind the counter. She had her arms folded, leaning slightly on the register, watching one of her waitresses pick up empty plates. There were only two of them working. One of the girls looked exhausted. I didn’t even think. I pulled open the door and walked in. A soft bell above the door jingled. The woman behind the counter turned to me. Her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “Kitchen’s closing in twenty minutes, sweetheart,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m not here to eat,” I blurted. She raised a brow, waiting. “I... I need a job.” I could hear how desperate I sounded. I hated that my voice cracked a little. She blinked at me, then gave me a once-over. Not in a judgy way. More like she was sizing me up like a mom would. “Do your parents know you’re out this late?” she asked, narrowing her eyes a little. I swallowed. “My mom’s busy. I’m not gonna cause any trouble, I swear. I can clean. I can take orders. I can do dishes.” She stared at me for a long beat. Then, she motioned for me to come closer. I stepped forward. “What’s your name?” “Ayla.” “I’m Gloria. That’s my name on the sign.” She motioned toward it with a nod of her head. “How old are you?” “Seventeen.” “You in school?” “Yes, ma’am. I just need a part-time job. After school. I can work all day on Saturdays too.” She sighed and rubbed her chin, looking toward the kitchen. “Well, I was gonna start looking for someone to help out. Business is picking up a little since we reopened after the fire last year. Still tight on budget though. You sure you can handle both school and work?” “Yes.” I didn’t even hesitate. “Please.” She studied me again. “You look tired, kid.” I gave a half-smile. “I am.” She nodded slowly. “You start tomorrow after school. Four o’clock. You clean up tables, mop after close, and help take orders when it gets busy. We don’t do apps or those fancy QR codes here, so it’s all written down. Can you write clear?” I nodded quickly. She held up one finger. “One week trial. You’re late, you’re out. You rude to customers, you’re out. You show up with an attitude, I send you home. Deal?” “Deal,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. “Alright then.” She reached under the counter and handed me a worn black apron. “You’ll need this. And tie your hair back. Don’t want strands in people’s food.” I took the apron carefully, like it was made of gold. For a second, I forgot the ache in my legs and the stinging in my throat. I forgot the sound of the bed creaking and the laughter I had run from. I had a job. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t perfect. But it was mine. “Thank you,” I whispered. Gloria gave me a nod and a small smile. “Don’t thank me yet. Come on time tomorrow. Let’s see if you’re worth your salt.” I walked out of that restaurant with the apron tucked under my arm and a real smile on my face. The night air was cool on my face. For the first time in a long while, I felt something I hadn’t dared feel in years; hope. My wolf stirred inside me, nudging at the edges of my mind, her familiar voice weaving through my thoughts. ‘This is good. You’re doing something. You’re not just running anymore.’ I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and let myself walk a little taller, feeling that quiet strength settle in. I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t see the figure coming toward me until… Crash. I bumped into someone hard enough to stumble back a step. Hands caught me before I could fall. “Whoa, are you okay?” a voice asked, calm and steady. I looked up into the face of a boy I didn’t know. Dark hair, sharp eyes, not the usual sneer or smirk I was used to when people looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t paying attention.” He shook his head, waving it off. “It’s fine. You good?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. Someone actually caring? Someone who didn’t look like they wanted to push me down or laugh? My throat tightened and all I could do was nod. Without another word, I turned and started to walk past him, my heart pounding. “Hey…wait,” he called after me. I kept walking, hoping to disappear into the night. ‘Hey, you’re the one not looking where you’re going. Pretty clumsy, huh?’ In my head, my voice teased me like always, making it seem as though it was something the boy would've said. I took a hard, hurtful hull and glanced back. He was watching me, his gaze was steady and unreadable. There was something different about him. He wasn’t an omega or anyone I’d seen around school. He looked... strong. Different.