CHAPTER 2

“Oliver!” Harrison barked, not breaking his predator’s stare.

Oliver Kensington jumped, his eyes darting toward the dirt. “Yeah, Harrison?”

“You saw that pitch. You have the scent of the trajectory, right?”

Oliver nodded, his head bobbing like a nervous pup. “Uh-huh. I saw it.”

“What was it? A strike or a ball?”

The boy hesitated, glancing at the gathered pack of kids. “Uh… a strike? Definitely a strike.”

A jagged, triumphant grin sliced across Harrison’s face. He leaned into my space, his scent of cedar and rain-drenched earth hitting me like a physical blow. “Told you, Cruz. I’m sure the rest of the pack agrees. Right, guys?”

A chorus of submissive murmurs rippled through the clearing. Nobody in the Northern Reach academy dared cross Harrison Cole. He was the Alpha-heir, the golden boy with the heavy fist. To go against him was to ask for a target on your back.

I threw my hands up, the wooden bat nearly slipping from my sweaty palms. “You’re such a liar!”

Harrison laughed, a low vibration that seemed to rumble from his chest. He took another step, cornering me in the makeshift batter’s box. “Bark all you want, Maddie. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a wolfless embarrassment. You suck at the Guardian drills.”

“I do not!” My throat felt tight, a mix of heat and stinging salt. “Stop being such a prick, Harrison!”

The amusement in his eyes turned into something sharper, something mean.

“Go home and howl to your mommy about it,” he taunted, moving so close I could see the golden flecks in his pupils. “Oh, that’s right. Your mom skipped town. Guess she didn’t want a runt like you dragging her down. Poor little Maddie—even your whore mother couldn't stand the sight of you!”

The world went red.

The pack knew the story. Vivienne Cruz had fled the territory after a scandal involving a high-ranking Elder from a rival pack. She’d left me behind with my father, Richard, and a stepmother who looked at me like a stain on the rug. The gossip was the only thing that traveled faster than a wolf in these woods.

“Don’t you talk about her!” I screamed. My hands slammed into Harrison’s chest, shoving him back.

A collective gasp broke from the kids on the bleachers. Harrison stumbled, his sneer twisting into a snarl. He didn't wait. His hands shot out, gripping my shoulders and hurlng me back. I skidded through the dirt, the grit stinging my palms, but I forced my legs to lock. I charged him again, shoving him with everything I had.

“Piss off, Harrison!”

The onlookers were silent now, sensing the shift from a game to a blood-feud.

“What did you just say?” His voice was a low, dangerous growl.

“You heard me,” I snapped, my chin tilting up. “What are you going to do, Harrison? Call your daddy?”

The air cracked. A split second later, fireworks erupted behind my eyes as Harrison’s fist connected with my cheek. My head snapped back. I hit the ground hard, the taste of copper filling my mouth.

A suffocating silence fell. The instructors were already sprinting across the grass, their boots thudding against the earth.

I should have stayed down. Any sane girl would have. But the handle of the ash wood bat was right there against my fingertips. I didn't think about the rules or the pack law. I grabbed the wood, swung from the ground, and put every ounce of my rage into the arc.

A sickening crack echoed through the clearing, followed by a high-pitched, jagged scream.

Harrison was on the grass, clutching his forearm. He was sobbing—a raw, ugly sound that didn't fit an Alpha. I sat there, wiping blood from my lip, a dark, jagged sense of victory blooming in my chest.

The teachers swarmed him. Most of them focused on the heir, but the Headmaster of the Reach Academy didn't go to Harrison. He came for me.

“Explain this!” he roared, his hand clamping onto my arm like a vice. He hauled me to my feet, his face turning a deep, bruised purple.

I looked at him, my head spinning but my heart steady. “You should breathe, Headmaster. You’re starting to look like an overripe beet.”

The man’s grip tightened until I heard my joints protest. “This is your final hour at this academy, Madeline Cruz!”

He dragged me toward the stone buildings, my boots dragging in the dirt. As we reached the heavy iron doors, I glanced back at Harrison. He was still on the ground, cradling his broken arm.

I leaned in and whispered to the wind, “Who sucks at the drills now?”

The Return

Six years later…

Watching Vivienne Cruz step out of the sleek black SUV was like watching a predator emerge from the brush. She moved with a lethal, fluid grace, her back as straight as a blade. Her designer coat and dark lenses screamed status—symbols she used to mask the lack of warmth underneath. She was over forty, but in the eyes of the pack, she was still the most dangerous woman in the territory.

“Keep the engine running,” Vivienne told the driver. She didn't look back.

She slid her glasses up, revealing those gray, piercing eyes that saw everything and felt nothing. She turned to me, and for the first time, the rehearsed smile was gone.

“You don’t have to do this, Madeline. We can turn around right now.”

I looked at the gates of the Cruz Estate. The scars on my back—and the ones in my head—ached in the cold mountain air.

“I’m not turning back, Mother,” I said, my voice as hard as the iron gates. “I’m here to take what’s mine.”

I stepped forward, the scent of the Northern Reach filling my lungs. It smelled like cedar, betrayal, and Harrison Cole.