Chapter 1

Alanza Verity’s POV

“Come out with me tonight.”

Lucia’s head popped into my view. I was wiping down the espresso machine, breathing in the steam and stale coffee scent. This job wasn’t a life goal, but it was a quiet escape. And I had Lucia. She was my one friend, the one person who made me think about a future away from the Crystal Lake Pack.

“Can’t. Dad wants me home as soon as I can.”

The grimace twisting her face made a little warmth flutter in my chest. At least someone got it. She didn’t know the whole truth—that I was a wolf shifter defect—but she saw the control.

My dad, the pack Beta, was an expert at short, demanding texts. I only had this job because he got tired of me being home, I was sure. Every cent not spent on gas went toward the thousand dollars I owed him for my beat-up old Taurus. The car was a sputtering mess, one pothole away from death, but it was mine. That tiny bit of freedom was everything.

Anything was better than being home.

“You should just move out. We can get an apartment together and party all night.”

Lucia said this almost every day. It never got old. I wanted that life. I didn't even need the party part. I just needed to be away from the pack. But shifters don’t just let go of their own. Not even wolfless defects like me.

I shoved my glasses up the bridge of my nose. They kept sliding. I hated how they looked, how they advertised my failure. Shifters had perfect eyesight. It was a gift from their wolves. I had no wolf.

I flicked the dirty rag at her. She squealed and jumped back. “I would if I could, and you know it. Aren’t you supposed to be restocking our cups? Dinner rush is almost here.”

“Fine, fine. But I still think telling him to back off once won't kill you. It might teach your parents you’re an adult.”

That would never happen. Dad was the Beta. I did what he said. The only person above him was the Alpha, and I didn’t want to cross him either.

“It’s a cultural thing,” I muttered. She dropped it. For now. Lucia would come back to it. She always did. She was constantly showing me apartment listings and helping me draft fake budgets. She was pushy, but in the sweetest way, just desperate for me to be independent.

Lucia was the first person to notice how much control my family had. The first person to care. The first person to say words I couldn't even admit out loud yet. “Your family is abusive. Who the hell does this?”

They hadn't always been that way. My family loved me once. Before I came of age and failed to shift. I had warm memories, sweet memories. I brought them out late at night when the loneliness felt too heavy. Memories of Mom, when she would actually smile and hold me. Memories of Dad throwing me onto his shoulders, telling me I could touch the stars. Memories of my siblings, Jimena and Pascual, calling me their baby sister.

Good times. Gone times.

It might hurt less if the affection hadn’t just vanished. If Mom’s blue eyes hadn't turned from a warm summer lake to frigid winter skies. If Dad hadn’t thrown me into the woods with nothing, telling me the hardship would finally bring out my wolf.

It didn't work. He was still mad about it.

Leaving work was always a small ritual. Lucia never drove away until she saw my car on the road. She worried my Taurus would die, which was fair, but mostly she worried I’d get mugged.

Months ago, when I told her she was also at risk, she grabbed my hand. “You would help me. So I’m going to help you.”

I loved her for that.

It made the guilt worse, though. I still hadn't told my ride-or-die best friend that I was a shifter, that I came from the local pack. She thought I was just a neglected kid from a normal human family. I convinced her not to call the police at least twice a week, especially when I showed up with new bruises.

The police couldn't do anything anyway. The pack had different laws. The government only cared if we harmed humans.

The only real escape was a fated mate in another pack. I dreamed about it. It was a fantasy I couldn't let go of. But the thought hurt, too. What if I had no mate? Or worse, what if my life in a new pack was exactly like this one?

The night air was warm for early spring, but the scent of coming rain hung on the breeze. I drove out of the brightly lit business strip, past the quiet neighborhoods of White Peak, and onto the dark rural road leading to Crystal Lake Pack territory.

The road was familiar, but tonight, it felt heavier. The moon was a thin crescent. The trees seemed to lean in, casting thick shadows. My grip tightened on the wheel. Anxiety squirmed in my belly.

The silence in the car was suffocating. I kept checking the rearview mirror, expecting to see glowing eyes. Being the pack defect meant I was also the pack punching bag. Hunting the wolfless was a favorite game for the young wolves. They couldn't hurt humans, but they could hurt me.

A shudder ran through me, a memory of pain.

“Shit!”

A massive form darted across the narrow streak of my high beams. I slammed on the brakes. My car fishtailed, tires shrieking against the pavement. The smell of burning rubber filled the cabin. My head snapped forward and struck the steering wheel. The car spun and stopped.

“Fuck…”

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. Stars burst behind my eyelids. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I must have bitten my tongue. They usually waited until I was home to corner me. Doing this on the road was a new kind of cruelty.

My hands shook. I peered out the cracked windshield. The road ahead was empty. Whatever ran in front of me was gone. There was zero chance it was anything other than a Crystal Lake wolf.

I swallowed. My heart pounded against my ribs. I had to get home. At least there, if they beat me badly enough, Mom or Dad would call a healer. They’d done it before. Probably just to keep their live-in maid healthy, but I liked to think they cared a little.

I needed to get out of here. Now.

I reached for the keys. A sharp pain lanced through my right wrist. I hissed, cradling it. Sprained. Damn it.

Gritting my teeth, I used my left hand to turn the key. The engine sputtered, then died. I tried again. Same weak whine.

“No no no, come on…” Desperation cracked my voice. “Please…”

I glanced in the rearview mirror, waiting for the yellow eyes to appear. My breathing turned ragged. Panic squeezed my lungs. I was a sitting duck. A rabbit waiting for the jaws to close.

The snap of a branch broke the silence. I flinched, a small whimper escaping my throat. I turned slowly, dread thick in my gut, and looked out the driver’s side window.

That’s when I saw them. Two small points of eerie, yellow light. They hovered at the edge of the dark trees.

“You think they want to play a game with the Beta’s daughter?”