I replayed my interaction with Elijah more times than was probably decent. It was easy to lose myself in the coziness of the café—the quiet hum of conversation, the rich aroma of coffee, the illusion of a temporary escape. But as more people filtered in—groggy students rushing for their morning caffeine fix, their chatter growing louder—the peaceful atmosphere dissolved. Taking it as my cue to leave, I finished the last sip of my drink and gathered my things. After exchanging polite greetings with a few students who recognized me, I stepped outside and began the short walk to campus. The crisp morning air helped clear my head, but my thoughts remained tangled in the memory of that fleeting moment with Elijah. Just as I reached the manicured campus grounds, my phone buzzed with an email from the Head of my Department, summoning the faculty for an impromptu meeting before classes began. With a sigh, I changed course toward the faculty lounge, already bracing myself for what awaited
Morgan tried to cheer me up after that disaster of a meeting, and though I forced a grin, the look on her face made it painfully clear that I wasn’t fooling her.I didn’t want to talk about it, though. What was there to say? That, in some way, they were right about me? That I didn’t belong here, that I had no right to? Morgan would disagree, of course—but only because she didn’t know the truth.She didn’t know I was here because I had asked Victor to give me something to do—something other than being his tool.I hadn’t slept with anyone to get this job, but I’d sold myself all the same.Maybe asking Victor for this was a mistake. I’d come here with some misplaced hope that I could fit in, carve out a new life among people I thought were like me—people who loved knowledge, who loved sharing it.But every day I spent at this school, I realized more and more that I had been wrong.By the time my morning classes ended, I was relieved. Five grueling hours of trying to cram information into
Football practice was going as well as one could expect. So far, I’d only dropped the ball twice, and Coach Burke had only yelled at me three times—two less than yesterday.Progress, I guess?“North! What are you doing?!” Coach Burke’s voice boomed across the field, the veins in his neck bulging with frustration.Make that four times. At this rate, we might even surpass yesterday’s record. No progress, then.“Sorry, Coach!” I called back for the umpteenth time.Maybe I should’ve skipped practice today, like I had been doing ever since I lost the game two weeks ago. But after a strongly worded text from Coach Burke two days ago—chock full of typos and not-so-idle threats to kick me off the team—I figured I’d run from the consequences of my actions long enough. If I stayed away any longer, he might’ve dragged me here by the hair.I had to face my teammates at some point. Avoiding them was cowardly. We had a game in about a month, and I’d convinced myself I could redeem myself in their e
Even when she disappeared from sight, even when I knew she was gone, I kept staring after her, my heart hammering, my blood roaring, my wolf restless with the loss. And that’s when something—or someone—slammed into me, knocking me off my feet and sending me sprawling onto the grassy earth. I heard gasps resound from around me and had to squeeze my eyes shut, biting my lip to keep from screaming when pain shot through my injured shoulder. Above me, I heard Luka curse, then yell at someone. “What the fuck was that, Hunter?” Ah, of course, it was him. My eyes flew open, and I looked up to see Luka staring down the vice-captain with tension lining his shoulders. Around us, the rest of the team had drawn closer, including the spectators from the bleachers. “What? It was an accident,” Hunter said, not even bothering to lie. His tone dripped with mockery as he stared down at me. “But he could’ve easily dodged me… y’know, if he’d been paying any attention.” I got up, my movements flui
“Elijah,” she called, her voice sugary sweet, her smile so wide I almost expected it to stretch too far. Her eyes flickered to Luka for a fraction of a second before they locked back on me, completely dismissing him. It was as if he were invisible. Luka scoffed and walked off, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, “Good luck,” but it was clear he didn’t need to stick around for this. I didn’t blame him. She stopped just a few feet from me, the space between us suddenly feeling too small, too heavy. Before I could even open my mouth, she leaned forward. Her arms slid around my neck, and her body pressed against mine with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. I stiffened instinctively, confusion mixing with an unsettling sense of repulsion I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t disgust, not exactly, but it was the last thing I wanted—her. Not now. Not anymore. When she pulled back to look at me, she tried to close the gap again, her lips parting, but I leaned back, instin
The library was eerily quiet at this hour, the dim glow of overhead lamps casting elongated shadows across the wooden tables. It was the perfect setting for an undisturbed study session—isolated, structured, predictable.Which was why Elijah North did not belong here.He sprawled in his chair like he had nowhere better to be, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other drumming absentmindedly against the wooden table.Dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt and loose sweatpants, his tousled hair fell over his golden eyes, his demeanor relaxed. And yet, his gaze was fixed on me.It was just the two of us in the library. The librarian had handed me the keys before she left, droning on about making sure nothing was damaged and reminding me to lock up when I was done.I had been surprised to find Elijah already waiting when I arrived. I might’ve thought it was his enthusiasm for learning finally shining through, but the mischievous glint in his eyes when I approached with a stack of
After double checking to make sure the doors were properly locked, I packed up my things and made my way back to my apartment. It was as dark as you’d expect it to be at 9pm. The streets were only dimly lit by the streetlights hanging overhead and barely anyone was out and about except a few people walking their dogs or the occasional car speeding past. Maybe I would have found the combination of all of these things scary if my mind wasn’t in a whole other place entirely, a place it probably shouldn’t be—back in the library with Elijah leaning forward to grab my hand. I tried to shake off the memory by visibly shaking my head as if that could dislodge it—anyone who walked past me right at that moment would probably think I was crazy—but not matter what I did, I could still feel the warmth of his hand against mine. The tantalising sparks, the smoothness of his skin when he cradled my palm in his and I could remeber the temptation I felt… the temptation to beg him to let his arms tr
But… I did end up having to leave that spot when fatigue made my figure hunch over, and the image of my darkened living room started to blur as sleep slowly took over my vision.Still, I took slow, cautious steps back to my room, checking every corner as I went. I had almost convinced myself that I’d simply forgotten to lock the door and that the feeling of my home being invaded was just paranoia. But at the same time, every muscle in my body remained coiled with anticipation and fear.The slightest noise—a creak of the floorboards, the faintest shift of air—had me jolting upright, fingers twitching toward the knife that now had a permanent place on my bedside table.It was almost funny. I hadn’t been this jumpy since I left Shadow Gulf. Back in my home pack, I had lived in a constant state of tension, flinching at the smallest movement, jolting at the sound of approaching footsteps.It was how you learned to survive when raised hands were always poised to strike.Since moving to Lupi
“Tea or coffee?” I asked the woman seated on my couch.She looked up at me, her blue eyes full and sharp at once, and replied, “Coffee.”That was a surprise—my mother never drank coffee—but I made it without a word. Two cubes of sugar, like she used to prefer, a little milk, then I set it on a coaster and brought it to her.She nodded with a muttered, “Thank you,” and took a long sip. I just stood across from her and stared.She looked much older than the last time I saw her. Her hair was longer and more unkempt, though pinned back into one of her typically severe buns. There were more wrinkles on her once-ageless face. Her lips were pulled down in a permanent frown, her posture more slumped. Her hair was grayer. She looked tired—more fragile than I’d ever seen her.Maybe another child would feel their heart ache a little, seeing their parent like this. But I was just trying to figure out how she had found me—and, more importantly, who she might have led here.I kept waiting, tense, c
When I was sixteen, I made the mistake of trying to carve out a path for myself.One of the routes I took involved working toward my PhD and falling for a man—or rather, a boy. He was only two years older than me, with sandy blonde hair, freckles, and the kindest smile I’d ever seen. He treated me better than anyone ever had.All my life, I’d been told I was destined for someone else—the son of the Alpha. But why? Why was I supposed to bind myself to someone I didn’t even love? Someone who didn’t love me either? Someone who wasn’t even my mate?So, for a little while, I decided to defy that destiny. That was how I ended up with my first boyfriend.He was the son of the pack doctor. We met at school shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t shrink away from me, cowed by my title or the weight of what I was. He saw me eating alone one day and approached with the brightest smile. He introduced himself and waited for me to do the same—something I’d rarely done,
The garden smelled like lavender and fresh earth.I was small again—maybe seven or eight—kneeling in the flower beds beside Mum. The sun hung low and golden, spilling warmth across the hedges and blooming petals. Bees buzzed lazily in the distance, and windchimes clinked from the porch like tiny bells. I could hear the steady snip of her garden shears, rhythmic and familiar, like a lullaby wrapped in sound.She wore her straw hat, the one with the frayed brim and blue ribbon I used to tug when I wanted her attention. Dirt streaked her forearms, her fingernails packed with soil, but she looked radiant—like the sunlight itself loved her.“There we go,” she said softly, reaching down to pat my back. “Your hands are gentle. That’s why the flowers like you.”I grinned, my heart blooming with pride. “I wanna help every day.”She glanced sideways, her eyes warm. “I’d love that. Maybe you can teach your sister how to do this.”I giggled, still elated at the thought of having a little sibling.
Elijah hadn’t shown up to class. Again.At first, I tried to tell myself it wasn’t anything new. He skipped sometimes—especially when things got bad at home. I didn’t expect him to come back right after being punished for goddess knew how long. But that realisation did nothing to settle my erratic thoughts, all it did was breed more worry. What if he was actually hurt and weak and unable to come to class because of that, what if he wasn’t even released from Victor’s clutches yet. The worry had bloomed into something tighter—something close to panic.It’s been days. Nearly a week since I saw him last. I dismissed the class and gathered my things slowly, lingering at the front as the students trickled out.Then I saw him—Luka—headed toward the door, his hoodie half-zipped, a satchel slung over one shoulder. He didn’t look at me as he passed by the lectern, and his steps were clipped, his shoulders rigid. He always lingered when Elijah was around. Now he seemed like he couldn’t get ou
I didn’t even remember walking through the door.One minute I was in hell—my father’s brand of it, brutal and endless—and the next, I was here. In the apartment I used to share with Luka. Still technically shared with him, I guessed. His hoodies still hung on the hooks by the door. There was a toothbrush by the sink, an unopened energy drink on the counter. Signs of life. His life. But not mine.I locked the door behind me and didn’t leave again.The curtains stayed drawn. The lights stayed off. Time bled out around me, thick and directionless. The world outside stopped existing. I moved through the apartment like something dead but too stubborn to rot all the way through. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t even feeling. I just… existed. Barely.My back throbbed with every breath. The skin was raw, tight, like it had been stitched together too quickly. Every time I shifted, it pulled and burned. I hadn’t changed out of the shirt I threw on that first night—it clung to me now, damp with old s
The cup was cold in my hands. I raised it slowly, and the smell hit me first—rotten fruit and metal and something sharp that made my nose sting. My stomach turned. I closed my eyes, braced myself, and drank. The moment it touched my tongue, I gagged. It burned going down, thick and syrupy, like swallowing hot tar. My throat seized, and I doubled over slightly, coughing as my stomach twisted in revolt. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, breathing hard. My eyes watered. Adora didn’t blink. She just watched me like a scientist observing a test subject. Victor chuckled weakly from the bed. “Such dramatics. You’d think she was being poisoned.” Wasn’t I? My limbs felt heavier now. My thoughts slower, dulled at the edges. But I knew the next part. I’d done this before. Too many times. So I stepped forward, finally, my feet dragging like I was wading through water. My hands were shaking again—but this time, it wasn’t just fear. It was power, building beneath my skin in
The gala went on as planned the next day—a glittering illusion I drifted through like a ghost in borrowed skin. Laughter filled the air, light bounced off crystal glasses, and the string quartet played a song I couldn’t remember even as I stood there listening. Everyone seemed enchanted by the atmosphere—the silk gowns, the polished shoes, the delicate scent of white lilies clinging to every surface.But I couldn’t breathe.The dress I wore might as well have been made of lead. My smile ached. My chest felt like an empty cage. I moved when someone spoke to me, I nodded, I thanked them for compliments I didn’t hear, but I wasn’t there. Not really. I was somewhere else entirely.I was thinking about Elijah.And myself.Mostly myself.The worry had lodged itself in my throat and hadn’t moved since yesterday. It was the kind of worry that gnawed slowly, not loud or sharp but constant—a dull ache behind every thought. But I didn’t have time to wallow for too long, Victor had summoned me a
I didn’t go to any more classes.Instead, I climbed the stairs to the top of the old building by the botanical gardens and sat on the roof, staring out across the trees. I could see the football field in the distance. Birds circled lazily overhead. A few students walked below, but no one looked up.I stayed there for hours, staring down at everyone and everything, until eventually, I couldn’t linger anymore. When I finally dragged myself to the field, I heard the whispers even louder this time. Like they’d had most of the morning to curate whatever brand of gossip they’d been spreading the whole day and make it into something more explosive. Sure enough, heads turned the second I stepped into the light.“Well, if it isn’t our beloved prince,” Hunter said, loud enough for the entire field to hear. His voice carried across the grass like a whip, sharp and mocking. “Back from royal exile.”I didn’t respond. I kept walking, my boots crunching over the turf, the weight of the stares press
I didn’t want to be here.My head was splitting, my eyes felt like they were vibrating in their sockets, and I hadn’t slept—not unless you counted thirty minutes of my eyes being shut as real sleep. After leaving Lenora’s office last night, I’d wandered for hours before crashing back at the apartment with nothing but silence, leftover regret, and whatever was left of Lenora’s scent from two nights ago to keep me company. I’d reached out to my dealer the second I was alone, hands trembling as I asked him to give me something. Just anything, as long as it would numb the pain. He couldn’t get me more than a couple of pills, and they’d already worn off by morning.But at least I didn’t have to spend the rest of the night drowning in my own emotions. I’d considered skipping school—after all, I really didn’t want to be here. But I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. I didn’t need to give anyone any more things to use against me than they already had. Anyway, now I was here, on campu