Chapter One: A Chance at Normalcy

Chapter One: A Chance at Normalcy

ARIANA

The forest sang beneath my paws. Every stride sent a rush of wind against my fur, the scents of pine and damp earth filling my nose like a soothing balm. Out here, I wasn’t the girl with blood on her name. I wasn’t the orphan whispered about in hushed tones. Out here, I was wild and free, my wolf untamed beneath the early morning sun.

My lungs burned in the best way as I leapt over a fallen log, landing soundlessly on the thick carpet of leaves. The wind tangled through the reddish-brown strands of my fur and carried my thoughts far away—away from this life I never chose, away from the suffocating walls of the orphanage, away from Serena’s shadow.

Serena.

The name echoed like a bruise in my chest, a pain that never quite healed. They all thought I killed her. Every glance, every muttered word behind my back screamed the same thing: murderer.

But I didn’t.

I slowed my pace, shifting back with a shudder as bones cracked and realigned, muscles stretching into their human form. The shift left a chill crawling over my skin, and I yanked my hoodie from the hollow of a tree where I’d stashed it earlier, pulling it on quickly before slipping into my leggings and sneakers.

The phone in my pocket buzzed just as I tied my laces. I frowned, wiping sweat from my forehead before fishing it out.

One new message. From Riverside University.

My heart lurched. My finger hovered over the notification like it might explode if I touched it wrong. Finally, I swiped—and the world tilted.

 Congratulations, Ariana Duskbane. You’ve been accepted into Riverside University for the Fall semester.

For a moment, I just stared at the glowing screen, the words sinking in like sunlight breaking through weeks of storm clouds.

Accepted. I got in.

A laugh burst from my throat, shaky and disbelieving. After years of scraping by, saving every cent, praying for a shot at something better, this was it. A real chance. A normal life—lectures, coffee dates, maybe even friends who didn’t look at me like I was cursed.

For the first time in years, hope bloomed in my chest. Big and bright and terrifying.

And then reality crashed back in.

Serena should’ve been here for this. She should’ve teased me for crying over a stupid email, called me dramatic like she always did. But she wasn’t. She’d never be here again.

I swallowed hard, forcing the lump down my throat. Not now. Not when I finally had something to hold on to. I locked my phone and started back toward town, clutching that fragile thread of happiness like it might unravel if I breathed too hard.

---

Hours later, happiness was a distant dream.

“Overtime, Ariana. No excuses.”

Mr. Griggs didn’t even glance up from the ledger in his fat hands as he barked the order. The man was a walking raincloud, permanently drenched in the smell of sour coffee and frustration.

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, teeth clenched so tight my jaw ached. I needed the money. Tuition wasn’t going to pay itself. So I plastered on a smile that felt like shards of glass and got back to work.

The antique shop was dead silent except for the scratch of his pen and the faint hum of the old ceiling fan. Dust coated everything—glass cases filled with relics nobody wanted, shelves sagging under the weight of forgotten treasures. A perfect match for my life: old, empty, and stuck.

By the time I finally escaped, the sun had dipped behind the hills, painting the sky in bruised shades of violet.

I trudged back to the orphanage, exhaustion clinging to me like a second skin. The moment I stepped inside, the stench of bleach and stale bread wrapped around me, suffocating in its familiarity.

And then came the voice I least wanted to hear.

“Ariana.”

I froze.

Brent.

He leaned against the doorway like a wolf in human skin, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk twisting his handsome features into something cruel. His dark brown eyes glittered with mockery.

“Still breathing, huh?” he drawled, pushing off the frame to block my path. “Guess some girls really know how to land on their feet. Even after killing their own sister.”

The words hit like a punch, cold and sharp, stealing the air from my lungs. My nails bit into my palms, but I forced my voice to stay calm.

“Move, Brent.”

His grin widened. “What? Too soon? Or did you finally stop pretending you’re innocent?”

Rage surged, hot and bitter, but I swallowed it down. He wasn’t worth it. None of them were. I brushed past him, ignoring the laughter that chased me down the hall like smoke.

I slammed the door to my tiny room and pressed my forehead against it, breathing hard. For a second, I thought I might scream, maybe even cry. But I didn’t. I just stood there, letting the anger simmer until it burned itself out.

When I opened my eyes, my phone was on the bed, the Riverside email still glowing like a promise I didn’t deserve.

Screw this place.

Ten minutes later, I was out the door.

---

The bar was everything I needed and nothing I wanted—loud, crowded, and soaked in bad decisions. The air reeked of sweat and cheap liquor, but the burn of whiskey sliding down my throat was a welcome distraction.

One shot. Two. I was reaching for a third when it happened.

A ripple of awareness swept through me, sharp as a blade. My wolf stiffened, hackles rising, a low growl curling in the back of my mind.

Someone was watching me.

I turned—and the world tilted.

He stood at the far end of the bar, half-hidden by shadows and smoke. Broad shoulders cloaked in black, dark hair falling carelessly over a face that looked carved from sin and steel. And his eyes—God, those eyes—burned like molten amber, locking onto mine with the weight of something dangerous. Something final.

My breath hitched. My pulse stuttered.

Every instinct screamed at me to look away, to run, but my body ignored them all. My wolf pressed against my skin, restless, hungry, whispering a word I didn’t want to hear.

Mate.

The man moved.

The crowd seemed to melt around him as he walked, each step a slow drumbeat echoing through the floorboards. By the time he stopped in front of me, my pulse was a wild, desperate thing, clawing at my ribs.

“Careful,” he said, voice a low rumble that slid over me like dark velvet. “That stuff will burn you alive.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling around the glass.

Who was this man… and why did my wolf howl for him?