MasukAlice woke up smiling.
Which was insane, because she was not the “smile in the morning” type of girl. She was the “smash the alarm and beg the universe for five more minutes” type. Yet somehow, sunlight shined through her curtains, and all she could think about was the kiss with Liam.
Her first kiss.
And not just with anyone, with Liam Hart. The golden boy. The one everyone whispered about in the halls. And he’d kissed her like she was the only girl alive.
Alice rolled over and buried her face in the pillow, groaning into the fabric like it might erase the memory.
“Congrats, Alice,” she muttered. “You’ve officially broken every one of Dad’s rules in a single night. No boys, no distractions, no attachments. You are now a straight A student in failure.”
Sarcasm helped. It always did. A cheap shield against the fear she felt inside her. Because her dad’s rules weren’t just rules, they were survival codes. Attachments made you weak. And weakness got you killed.
Still, she brushed her fingers against her lips, and the stupid smile came back. Liam hadn’t seen the Ashford legacy, the name she carried wasn’t just a mere name. He’d just seen her.
“Pathetic,” she groaned. And then she dragged herself out of bed before she could start daydreaming like some hopeless girl in love.
Breakfast with her dad was torture.
Alice sat at the table stabbing her toast like it had offended her. Samuel Ashford sipped his coffee in silence, the picture of calm storm. One glance from him was enough to make her sit up.
“You’re quiet this morning,” he said.
Alice forced a casual response. “Just tired.”
He hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been… distracted lately.”
Her fork paused midair. “New school. Normal stuff.”
Her dad leaned back, eyes narrowing in that way that always felt like x-ray vision. “Normal doesn’t exist in this town. Remember that.”
She tried to laugh it off. “Right. Because every pop quiz is actually a werewolf plot.”
He didn’t even twitch a smile. “I’m serious. There’s been movement. Packs shifting. Something’s not quite right.”
Her stomach clenched. “Here?”
“Close enough.” His voice sharpened. “This is why I tell you, no distractions. If your focus slips even once, you hesitate. And hesitation will get you killed.”
Alice nodded, throat tight. His words always carried weight, but today they hit harder, because all she could picture was Liam’s smile. And all she could feel was the guilt of hiding him.
School wasn’t any better.
Alice hugged her books to her chest like armor when she spotted Liam at his locker. Laughing with friends, easy as breathing. Her stomach dropped.
Then he looked up. Their eyes locked as his smile softened.
She couldn’t breath for a second.
Before she could react, her friends swooped in. “So,” one teased, “what’s with the smile, Alice?”
“What smile?” she said way too fast.
“The one you’re wearing right now,” another said, nudging her. “Don’t tell me the new girl already has a crush.”
Alice forced a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah, totally. Head over heels in under a week. Super believable.”
Her burning cheeks betrayed her.
Meanwhile, Liam leaned casually on his locker, smirk tugging at his lips like he knew exactly what was going through her head. He scribbled something on a scrap of paper and sent it through a friend.
Alice unfolded it in class, her heart racing.
You look cute when you’re pretending not to look at me.
She nearly groaned. She wrote back:
You’re impossible.
Minutes later, the next note slid onto her desk.
And yet, you’re smiling.
Her face burned, and she shoved the note into her book. When she looked up, her stomach flipped.
Kane sat in the back, eyes locked on her. Not warm, not playful but sharp and unreadable. Like he was sizing her up for something she had no idea about. The hairs on her arms stretched.
The library was quiet that afternoon as the sunlight shined through the library windows. Alice ducked between shelves, desperate for some air.
“Strange place for someone like you,” a low voice murmured.
She was shocked. Kane leaned against a shelf, watching her like he’d been waiting.
“Someone like me?” she said back.
He stepped closer, his presence heavy. “The kind of girl who doesn’t fit here. You’re… different.”
Alice crossed her arms. “Wow. Smooth. Do you rehearse these creepy lines, or are they natural?”
A flicker of amusement ghosted across his face. “Sarcasm. Cute.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want, Kane?”
He studied her, unreadable. “Just to warn you. Liam Hart isn’t who you think.”
Her stomach sank. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t know him. Not really. And when you do…” His voice sounded lower. “You’ll wish you’d stayed away.”
Alice scoffed, though her voice cracked a little. “Yeah, because vague threats from the mysterious guy in the shadows are so convincing.”
She brushed past him, but his words followed her out like a chill.
That evening, Liam walked her home again.
With him, the world felt lighter, easier. But Kane’s warning rang in her thoughts like an alarm clock she couldn’t smash.
“You’re quiet,” Liam said. “Everything okay?”
Alice forced a smile. “Just tired.”
He tilted his head, searching her face. “If I’m rushing things, tell me. I don’t want to ruin this.”
Her chest tightened. He was so sincere it hurt. She wanted to believe every word.
“Relax, golden boy. You’re not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” His smile lit up. “I’ll take it.”
When they reached her porch, his fingers brushed against hers. The spark was instant.
“Goodnight, Alice,” he said softly.
“Goodnight,” she whispered back.
But as Liam walked away, a she felt so uncomfortable.
Across the street, under the shadow of the trees, Kane stood still watching and waiting.
Alice’s breath ceased. And though Liam had already gotten halfway down the block, she saw him pause too. His shoulders tensed, like he knew Kane was there.
For a long, heavy moment, neither boy moved. Two figures in the dark were silent and staring.
Alice froze on her porch, not realizing yet that she wasn’t just between two boys.
She was caught between two wolves.
Alice stumbled through the gym’s side exit, the rally’s roar—blaring music, screaming crowds—fading to a dull hum as the courtyard’s cold night air slapped her face. The school’s open quad stretched before her, cracked concrete benches under flickering streetlamps, skeletal trees rustling in the wind, the distant thump of the pep rally echoing like a heartbeat. Her hands still glowed faintly from the gym’s ritual circle, her wrist scar burning, the crumpled notes (Break or burn, weapon) heavy in her pocket alongside the bedroom pendant. The vision of Samuel’s ritual—lights pulsing, packs clashing, blood pooling—clawed at her mind, alongside Liam’s plea, Kane’s fierce grip, Mira’s whispered trap, Rhea’s venomous smirk, Elara’s guilty touch, and the new girl’s hiss (The ritual’s now). She was a lab-enhanced weapon, her mother’s affair with the Alpha a cult lie, Liam’s love a trigger, Mira a manipulator, Elara a complicit seer, Kane her only anchor. The courtyard’s silence felt like a tr
The gym doors swung open, and a wall of sound crashed over Alice—blaring pop anthems, cheers roaring from a sea of bodies packed into bleachers. Strobe lights cut through the haze, painting the crowd in slashes of red and gold, the air thick with sweat, perfume, and a metallic tang that set her teeth on edge. She’d fled the classroom’s suffocating notes—You’re theirs, weapon—and Elara’s vision of Samuel’s rally ritual, Rhea’s venomous taunt, Mira’s sly note, Liam’s desperate text (I need you), and the new girl’s hiss (Samuel’s watching). Her wrist scar pulsed, a reminder of the truth: she was a lab-enhanced weapon, her mother’s affair with the Alpha a cult-orchestrated lie, Liam’s love a trigger, Mira a manipulator, Elara a guilty seer, Kane her only anchor. The pep rally was no school event—it was Samuel’s stage, and she’d walked right into it.She pushed through the crowd, elbows bumping sweaty shoulders, her backpack heavy with the crumpled notes and the pendant from her bedroom. H
Alice jolted awake, her heart slamming against her ribs like a trapped animal. The room was dim, fairy lights flickering weakly over posters that peeled from the walls, the creaky bed tangled with sheets that smelled of lavender and sweat. Last night’s truth clawed at her: she wasn’t a hybrid born of love, but a lab-grown weapon, forged by Samuel’s cult to burn the Crimson Moon and Lunar Howler packs. The vision of needles, her glowing scar, Mira’s text (Come back), Elara’s guilty call (I helped them), and the new girl’s whisper (The rally’s their trap, weapon) haunted her. She rolled over, breath shaky, and froze—a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon with claws lay on her nightstand, not hers, glinting like a threat. Her wrist scar pulsed, and her stomach churned. Someone had been here, in her room, while she slept.She swung her legs over the bed, feet hitting the cold hardwood floor, the shock grounding her for a moment. The house was silent, Sophia likely still locked in he
Alice stumbled through her front door, the familiar creak of the hinges lost in the storm raging in her chest. The cafeteria’s chaos clung to her—Liam’s text searing her pocket (Meet me tonight by the old oak), Kane’s fierce I’d burn it all down, Mira’s calculated Come to the pep rally, Elara’s quiet Listen to your heart, and the new girl’s chilling Choose wisely, hybrid. She’d skipped gym, unable to face the crowd after fleeing the cafeteria, desperate for the sanctuary of home. Her bedroom was a cluttered refuge—posters peeling from the walls, fairy lights casting a warm glow, a creaky bed piled with mismatched pillows—but it felt like a prison now, trapping her with her spiraling thoughts.Her senses were razor-sharp, catching every detail—the hum of the fridge downstairs, the lavender scent of her laundry, the thud of her own heartbeat. Her nails ached, digging into her palms as she dropped her backpack, terrified they’d sharpen again. The prophecy—Born of man and moon—swirled in
The cafeteria was a chaotic swirl of clattering trays, shouted gossip, and the acrid tang of overcooked fries mingled with spilled soda. Alice slumped at a corner table, her lunch tray untouched, the noise crashing around her like a tide she couldn’t outrun. Her heart was still raw from the library—Mira’s too-smooth denial of the crescent moon tattoo, Elara’s scarred palm and broken confession about her lost love Thorne, Rhea’s chilling Ask her about the tattoo, Kane’s crimson eyes burning with The Alpha’s scouts are in town. Liam’s howl echoed in her mind, a forbidden ache that tore her apart, and Mira’s unseen text—She’s slipping. Tell him to move faster—lingered like a shadow she couldn’t shake. She’d fled the library to escape their voices, their touches, but the storm in her chest followed her, heavier now in the crowded cafeteria.Her senses were too sharp, catching every detail—the scrape of plastic forks, the sweet sting of cheap body spray, the pulse of a hundred heartbeats.
The school hallway was a riot of noise—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, voices overlapping in a chaotic hum—but to Alice, it felt like a distant echo, muffled by the storm in her chest. She leaned against her locker, the cold metal grounding her as her heart raced from last night’s chaos: Kane’s almost-touch, Ezra’s cryptic promise, Mira’s too-tight embrace. Her senses were too sharp, picking up the sharp tang of cheap perfume, the rustle of backpacks, the pulse of a hundred heartbeats. Her nails dug into her palms, aching like they wanted to sharpen, and she clenched her fists, scared of what they might become. Liam’s howl still haunted her, a forbidden ache that tore at her heart. Kane’s words—I’d burn it all down for you—lingered like a fire she couldn’t extinguish. And Mira’s texts (I need you), piling up on her phone, felt like a warm tether and a trap all at once. The prophecy’s words—Born of man and moon—churned in her mind, making her feel like a stranger in her own skin







