LOGINAt sterlinggate university, only one rule matters: Monsters do not belong. Yuna never meant to become one. After being publicly humiliated by her boyfriend , Yuna’s emotions spiral out of control, she had a tough encounter with her bully, Megan, triggering a secret she was never meant to awaken. She isn’t just a werewolf. She is a kitsune. A nine-tailed fox believed to be extinct. A creature every wolf has been trained to hunt. When her transformation is exposed, the university goes into lockdown. Hunters flood the campus. Silver charms are distributed. And one order is made clear: “Kill the kitsune”. The only person willing to protect her is Noah Phillips,the star wolf of the university… and the son of the chief hunter leading the execution. As danger closes in and her powers grow harder to control, Yuna must choose: hide and survive, or rise and fight back. Because if the wolves discover the truth… They won’t just kill her. They’ll start a war.
View More"She really thought she was all that?"
The words hit Yuna before she even saw who said them. She pushed through the main doors of Sterlinggate University, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and immediately felt the weight of a hundred stares. Students clustered in groups along the hallway, their phones out, their eyes flicking between their screens and her face.
Yuna's stomach dropped. Something was wrong.
Giggles erupted from a group of girls near the water fountain. Two guys standing by the notice board nudged each other, smirking as she walked past. The whispers followed her like a shadow, growing louder with each step.
"Did you see the video?"
"I can't believe she actually fell for it."
"Christopher's such a savage."
Yuna's hands trembled as she gripped the strap of her bag tighter. Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a rope around her ribs and was pulling it taut. She kept her eyes down, focusing on the polished floor tiles, counting her steps. Anything to avoid the mocking faces.
She reached her locker and fumbled with the combination lock. Her fingers shook so badly it took three tries to get it open.
"Yuna! Yuna!"
Camille's voice cut through the noise. Her best friend sprinted down the hallway, her blonde hair flying behind her, her face pale with worry. She skidded to a stop in front of Yuna, breathless.
"Have you seen this?" Camille shoved her phone into Yuna's face.
The video was already playing. Christopher sat in the table tennis court, surrounded by his friends, all of them laughing. The camera was shaky, probably held by one of them, but the audio was crystal clear.
"I told you she was gonna fall for it," Christopher said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Such a cheap girl. Three months and she's still clinging to that ugly bracelet like it's made of gold."
His friends roared with laughter. One of them slapped Christopher on the back.
"Bro, you actually did it. I didn't think you could pull it off."
"Please," Christopher scoffed. "It was too easy. She's so desperate for attention, she would've believed anything."
The video cut off, but the damage was done. Yuna stared at the screen, her vision blurring. The comments section below the I*******m post was flooded with reactions.
"Yuna got played so hard lol"
"This is what happens when you're that naive"
"Christopher is a legend"
Yuna's throat closed up. She couldn't breathe. The hallway spun around her, the voices blending into a single roar of mockery.
"Yuna, say something," Camille pleaded, gripping her arm. "Are you okay?"
Before Yuna could answer, the crowd shifted. Christopher and his friends appeared at the end of the hallway, strutting toward them like they owned the place. Christopher had his phone in his hand, still grinning at whatever was on the screen.
Something inside Yuna snapped.
She shoved her locker shut and marched straight toward him. Camille called after her, but Yuna didn't stop. The students around them sensed the confrontation and pulled out their phones, forming a loose circle.
"Chris," Yuna said, her voice shaking. "Is it true?"
Christopher looked up from his phone, his grin widening. His friends snickered behind him.
"Is what true?" he asked innocently.
"The video. The bet. All of it."
One of his friends laughed outright. "You seriously asking if the video's real? What, you think we cloned him or something?"
The others joined in, their laughter sharp and cruel. Christopher just shrugged, completely unbothered.
"Come on, Yuna. Don't make this harder than it has to be. It was just a game."
"A game?" Yuna's voice cracked. "You told me you loved me."
Christopher rolled his eyes. "And you believed it. That's on you."
The hallway erupted in laughter. Someone in the crowd shouted, "Ohhh, savage!"
Yuna's vision went red. She didn't think. Didn't plan. Her fist flew forward and connected with Christopher's nose with a sickening crack.
The laughter stopped instantly.
Christopher stumbled back, his hands flying to his face. Blood seeped between his fingers. The crowd gasped, and a dozen phones swiveled to capture the moment.
"This should definitely be a K drama series!" someone shouted excitedly from the back.
Yuna stared at her hand, her knuckles already starting to bruise. She had never hit anyone before in her life. Where had that strength come from? That anger?
"Oh my God," she breathed. "Chris, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Get away from me!" Christopher shoved her hard.
Yuna stumbled backward, her feet tangling, and crashed to the floor. Her palms scraped against the tile, stinging. The crowd erupted in fresh laughter, their cameras still recording.
"Yo, she got wrecked!"
"Someone call the nurse!"
Camille rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Yuna. "Are you insane? You can't just push her like that!"
Christopher ignored her, still holding his bleeding nose. "She's crazy! You all saw that, right? She assaulted me!"
"What is going on here?"
The booming voice silenced everyone. Henry Sullivan, the basketball coach, pushed through the crowd. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with a permanent scowl and zero tolerance for nonsense. His eyes swept over the scene, taking in Christopher's bloody nose and Yuna on the floor.
"Everyone, get to class. Now." His tone left no room for argument.
The students scattered reluctantly, still murmuring and checking their phones. Coach Sullivan glared at Christopher and Yuna.
"Both of you. My office. Ten minutes."
He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.
Camille helped Yuna to her feet, brushing dirt off her clothes. "Are you okay?"
Yuna nodded numbly. She wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. But she couldn't say that out loud.
The meeting in Coach Sullivan's office was brief and humiliating. He sat behind his desk, arms crossed, looking between them like they were both equally at fault.
"I don't care who started it," he said flatly. "This kind of behavior is unacceptable. Yuna, you're already on thin ice after last semester's tournament. One more incident and you're off the team. Christopher, get your nose checked and stay away from her. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Coach," they mumbled in unison.
"Good. Get out."
Yuna left the office feeling hollow. She didn't go back to class. Instead, she wandered through the empty hallways until she found herself at the basketball court. It was quiet, dimly lit, the overhead lights casting long shadows across the polished floor.
She dropped her bag by the bleachers and walked to the center of the court. The silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. Her chest ached. Her eyes burned.
And then the tears came.
She sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, and sobbed. All the humiliation, the anger, the betrayal, it poured out of her in ugly, gasping cries. She didn't care if anyone heard. She didn't care about anything anymore.
A low growl echoed through the court.
Yuna's head snapped up, her tears freezing on her cheeks. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
The far end of the court was dark, the lights flickering weakly. But she could see them. Two glowing eyes, lemon yellow and predatory, staring at her from the shadows.
"Who's there?" Her voice came out small and terrified.
The creature stepped forward, and Yuna's breath caught. It was massive, a wolf far larger than any normal animal, its fur dark and bristling. Its lips curled back, revealing razor sharp teeth.
It growled again, deeper this time, and crouched low.
Before Yuna could scream, it lunged.
Monday morning arrived grey and purposeful.They loaded the car in Margaret's clearing while she stood on the porch with her arms crossed, watching. She had spent both days putting Yuna through training that was nothing like Noah's physical combat preparation. Where Noah had taught her body, Margaret taught her attention.How to feel the Binding without being overwhelmed by it. How to project calm through the connection rather than anxiety, which apparently kitsunes in distress broadcast like a radio signal. How to recognize when something pressing against the connection was safe and when it wasn't.By Sunday evening Yuna was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with her muscles."Three weeks," Margaret had said at dinner. "I'll be in Los Angeles in three weeks. Before then, practice daily. Even five minutes. The Binding is like a muscle. Use it or lose the strength you built.""I will.""And stay away from Garrett." Margaret had looked at her very directly. "Not because you can'
The name settled over the table like a drop in temperature."I've never heard of him," Yuna said."You wouldn't have. He's spent fifty years making sure no one current can identify him." Margaret stood and moved to the bookshelf, pulling a leather-bound journal from the third shelf. She set it on the table and opened it to a page near the middle. "This is what I know. Which is more than most and less than I'd like."The journal page had a sketch. A man's face, done in careful pencil, with angular features and eyes that the artist had drawn with disturbing attention to detail. There was something in the rendering of those eyes that made Yuna's fox spirit press uneasily against her ribs."He was the leader of the kitsune hierarchy before the royal line asserted authority," Margaret said. "Not royal bloodline. A powerful elder who believed power should belong to whoever could take it, not whoever was born to it." She turned the journal slightly so Noah could see. "He and your mother's gr
Margaret had them up before sunrise.This turned out to be deeply unpopular with Camille, who appeared in the kitchen wrapped in a blanket, her hair catastrophic, looking at Margaret with the quiet betrayal of someone who had expected better."You have class back on campus Monday morning," Margaret said without looking up from the stove. "We have two days. We don't sleep in."Camille sat down heavily. "You and Coach Sullivan would get along terrifyingly well."Margaret put toast and eggs on the table and sat across from Yuna."Before we begin, I want to ask you something," Margaret said. "And I want an honest answer.""Okay.""Do you want this? The Binding, the leadership, the responsibility for your people." Her eyes were direct. "Because you've been surviving. Running from danger, fighting when you had to, protecting those immediately around you. That's different from choosing to lead. Choosing to carry something much heavier." She paused. "Your mother made that choice deliberately,
The inside of Margaret's house was warm and ordered, every surface deliberate. Books filled the walls, not for decoration but for use, their spines creased and worn. A fire burned in a stone hearth. On the kitchen table, three cups were already set out.Three."You knew we were coming," Noah said, pulling out a chair.Margaret moved to the stove with the efficiency of someone who had lived alone for decades and made every motion count. "I felt Yuna cross into my territory about forty miles back. A royal bloodline moving through the land announces itself." She glanced over her shoulder. "Like a bell being struck.""You can feel that?" Yuna asked."I could feel your mother the same way, thirty years ago." Margaret brought over a pot and poured tea without asking if anyone wanted it. "Sit down, please. All of you."They sat. Yuna wrapped her hands around the cup, more for something to hold than because she wanted tea.Margaret sat across from her and looked at her with open, unhurried as












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