Chapter 1.

Iris.

Present day. New York. June, 2025.

Three years later…

“Iris…”

That deep, rich, unforgettable voice. My breath hitches in my throat. His mouth grazes the inside of my thigh with a feathery kiss. I gasp, my back arching as heat unfurls in my belly. The sheets twist in my fists. I’m already trembling in response to this carnal sin.

“Let me take you there…” he whispers against my skin.

I close my eyes and part my legs for him. His head lowers between my legs. The rasp of his tongue strokes over my clit, teasing, coaxing. I can’t stop the moan that escapes my throat. My hips rise for him. My walls clench, eager and desperate for him. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, his fingers working inside me, slow and steady, so skilled, so devastating.

“I’m coming…” I gasp, barely above a whisper.

And I don't lie. I fall apart under his touch, pleasure crashing through me in waves that leave me breathless. I'm suddenly boneless. As the aftershocks shudder through me, he lifts his head, his eyes glowing, feral, gold. A werewolf’s gaze.

He pulls away and brings a locket to my throat, the one with the carved silver wolf. He wears it gently. Then he rises, his tattoo of a snarling wolf, etched on his back. I know that wolf. I’ve traced that tattoo in a hundred dreams.

He enters me again. Thick. Deep. Claiming. The pressure builds quickly, a sweet ache in my core. I dig my nails into his shoulders. I cry out as the rhythm of our bodies merges into something primal. And then, I change.

A low growl tears from my chest. My hands morph into claws. My back arches, bones shifting beneath my skin. My vision sharpens. My mouth opens to howl, 

And I wake.

“Ahh!” I bolt upright in bed.

 My chest heaves, drenched in sweat. My thighs are slick. My palms are clammy. I blink hard, trying to ground myself.

The dream. Again.

Same man. Same silver locket. Same unbearable, aching pleasure. And always, always—the transformation.

I look around my small apartment. Morning light peeks through the blinds. The skyline of New York hums in the distance. It’s real. I’m safe. I’m still me.

But I’ve had this dream every few weeks since the day of the accident, according to mum. Since Mom and I escaped and came here according to her. Since she told me they’d tried to kill me according to her.

She never told me who “they” were.

No hospital records. No memory of the crash. Only a warning.

And now… she’s gone. Just like everything else.

I force myself out of bed and head for the shower, trying to wash away the remnants of the dream. But the sensation lingers. The taste of it. The fear. The craving. The change.

Today I have to go to the Ministry of Identity. My final year under this identity is almost up. The words of my foster mother echo again in my head, like a ringing bell.

‘Honey, never let your trail go cold. Never let them find you. Change your name. Always.’

‘But why?’ I’d asked.

‘No questions. Just obey.’

She was right. I’ve never stopped running.

I text Terrence.

Me: Terrence. I’m coming to the office.

***

“I can’t help you, Iris.”

“What?” Panic grips my chest. “What do you mean you can’t help me?”

Terrence doesn’t look up at first. He keeps scanning the numerous documents before him, his jaw tense. I shift uncomfortably. I can still feel that man from my dreams. His mouth. His heat. His growl. My body remembers, even if my mind wants to forget.

Terrence finally sighs and meets my eyes.

“I warned you, didn’t I? Three times. That’s all the system gives you. You’ve exhausted your ID changes. You can’t stay here. You have to leave the States.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I say, my voice rising. “You know what happened. You know why I’ve had to hide. My mother trusted you. She said you’d protect me.”

“I am protecting you.” His voice softens. “You need to disappear, Iris. For real this time.”

I reach into my purse and slide a folded wad of cash across his desk. My hands are shaking.

“Please, Terry. Just one more time.”

He glances at the money but doesn’t touch it. Instead, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out an envelope. He slides it toward me without a word.

“What’s this?”

“Your way out.”

I open it and scan the contents. A one-way bus ticket. A resume. A job placement.

“Colorado?” I murmur. “Gerald Ford?”

“Alpha Gerald Ford,” Terrence corrects, reverently. I frown. “He’s looking for someone to care for his aging mother. He’s reclusive. He's very private and he pays well too.  No questions asked. It’s the safest place I could find for someone in your situation.”

He pauses. My situation? I'm not a plague. Am I?

“Your new name is Iris Conrad. It’s clean. Fresh. And it’ll buy you time.”

My stomach knots. “So that’s it? I just vanish into the woods? Become a caregiver to a stranger’s mother?”

His voice is quiet, firm. “You don’t have a choice anymore, Iris. You’re out of names. Out of time.”

I look down at the new identity. Iris Conrad. It barely feels like mine. Mine is Iris Lupus. But it’s my only chance.

I nod once, stiffly. Not because I’m ready. But because I’ve already lost everything once, according to mum. I won’t let them find me again.

This is my last resort.