Chapter 5

Chapter 5 — The Trap

Rhea's POV

"Rhea, you've barely touched your food."

Mom's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I look down at my plate. She's right. I've been pushing the same piece of chicken around for ten minutes.

"Sorry." I force myself to take a bite. It tastes like nothing. "Just tired."

Dad sets down his fork. "Long day at school?"

"Yeah."

"Anything happen?" Mom asks. Her eyes are sharp. Concerned.

I think about Ryker standing at the front of my classroom. About the way King—I mean, his Lycan—seemed to focus on me even though I never looked up. About Lila being dragged out screaming.

"Nothing important," I lie.

They exchange a look. The kind that says they don't believe me but won't push.

"The prince seems to be spending a lot of time at the school," Dad says carefully. "That's unusual."

My heart skips. "Is it?"

"Royalty doesn't usually concern themselves with pack schools." Dad leans back in his chair. "Makes me wonder what he's really looking for."

"Maybe he cares about the younger generation," Mom offers. But even she doesn't sound convinced.

I take another bite. Chew slowly. Try not to think about the possibility that Dad just voiced. The dangerous, impossible hope that Ryker might be there because of me.

He can't smell you, I remind myself. He doesn't know you exist.

But Sable stirs. Restless. He knows something. His beast knows.

I push my plate away. My stomach is too twisted to eat.

"May I be excused?" I ask.

Mom frowns. "You need to eat more than that."

"I'm really not hungry."

She studies my face for a long moment. Then she nods. "Go rest. You look exhausted."

I escape to my room and close the door. The silence is immediate. Comforting.

I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. My chest aches. The dull, constant pain that's been there for four months. Ever since I felt the bond snap into place.

Why does he keep coming to the school? I ask Sable.

I don't know, she admits. But King is restless. I can feel him.

What does that mean?

It means he's searching for something. Or someone.

My heart thuds harder. He can't be searching for us. He doesn't know we exist.

Sable doesn't answer. But I feel her uncertainty. Her hope.

I roll onto my side and curl into a ball. The pain in my chest intensifies. Not physical. Emotional. The kind that no medicine can fix.

I can't do this much longer, I whisper.

I know, Sable says softly. I know.

Sleep doesn't come easy. When it finally does, it's restless. Full of dreams I can't quite remember when I wake up.

The next morning, I feel worse. My body is heavy. My emotions are all over the place. One minute I'm fine. The next I want to cry for no reason.

"What's wrong with me?" I mutter while getting dressed.

The transformation, Sable says. It's accelerating.

I freeze. "What?"

You're mated to a Lycan Prince. That means you're becoming a Lycan too.

"That's not possible. I'm a wolf. Not—"

You were a wolf, she corrects gently. But the bond changes things. Every full moon, you shift a little more. By the sixth full moon, the transformation will be complete.

I sit down hard on my bed. My hands are shaking. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

I didn't know before. It's instinct. Ancient knowledge that's only now surfacing.

"How many full moons has it been?"

Three.

Three. Which means I have three more. Three more months before I'm not a wolf anymore.

"Will I get a scent?" The question comes out barely above a whisper.

I don't know, Sable admits. Maybe. Probably.

My stomach drops. If I get a scent, Ryker will smell me. He'll know. And then everything I've been hiding will be exposed.

I don't know if that terrifies me or relieves me.

"We need to be careful," I say.

Agreed.

I finish getting dressed and head downstairs. Mom is already in the kitchen.

"Morning, sweetheart," she says. Then she looks at me more closely. "Are you feeling okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine." I pour myself coffee. My hands are still shaking slightly. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Maybe you should stay home today."

"No." The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. I soften my voice. "I'll be fine. Really."

She doesn't look convinced but doesn't argue.

Dad walks in. He's dressed for training. "Ready?"

I blink. "For what?"

"Our session. Outside pack borders. Remember?"

Oh. Right. We train together every few days. Far enough from the pack that no one sees. Far enough that no one asks questions.

"Yeah," I say. "Let me grab my stuff."

Twenty minutes later, we're deep in the woods. The air is cooler here. Quieter.

Dad and Mom shift into their fighting stances. I do the same.

We move through drills. Blocking. Dodging. Striking. My parents are good. Really good. They've been training me since I was ten and it shows.

I land a solid hit to Dad's ribs. He grunts but smiles.

"Good," he says. "Again."

We go again. And again. Sweat drips down my back. My muscles burn. But it feels good. Like I'm doing something instead of just waiting.

Mom takes me down with a sweep. I hit the ground hard.

"You're distracted," she says. "Focus."

I get up. Brush dirt off my clothes. "Sorry."

"What's going on in your head?" Dad asks.

Everything. Nothing. Too much to explain.

"Just thinking about the tournament," I say.

It's not a lie. I have been thinking about it. Wondering if I should enter. Wondering if it's worth the risk.

We're in the middle of another drill when I smell him.

Not Ryker. Someone else. Another wolf.

I freeze. Dad and Mom notice immediately.

"Someone's here," I whisper.

They both go still. Alert.

A figure emerges from the trees. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair.

Colt.

My heart stops.

"Well," he says. His voice is calm. Measured. "This is interesting."

Dad steps in front of me. Protective. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Colt's eyes sweep over us. Taking in our stances. Our defensive positions. "Training outside pack borders. Alone. That's... unusual."

"We have permission," Mom says quickly.

"Do you?" Colt raises an eyebrow. "From who?"

"Alpha Daniel."

"Interesting. Because he never mentioned it."

Silence. Heavy. Tense.

Then Dad sighs. "Look. We're just trying to keep our daughter safe."

Colt's expression softens slightly. "From what?"

"From bullies." Mom's voice is steady. Strong. "Rhea gets harassed at school. We're teaching her to defend herself."

Colt looks at me. Really looks at me. I keep my face blank.

"The bruises," he says. "I've seen them."

I nod. Don't speak.

"And you think combat training will help?"

"It already has," Dad says. "She needs to be able to protect herself when we're not there."

Colt is quiet for a long moment. Then he nods. "Alright. I understand."

Relief floods through me.

"But next time," he adds, "get proper clearance. Training outside pack borders without permission can be seen as suspicious."

"Understood," Dad says.

Colt turns to leave. Then he pauses. "She's good, by the way. Your daughter. Better than most wolves her age."

He disappears into the trees.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"That was close," Mom whispers.

Too close.

The next day is the tournament's opening ceremony.

I stand in the crowd with Remy and Alec. My stomach is in knots. I didn't sign up for this. I don't want to be here.

But everyone keeps talking about it. About who entered. About who might win.

Beta Jack steps onto the platform. He's holding a clipboard.

"Welcome everyone," he announces. His voice carries across the clearing. "Thank you for coming to the opening ceremony of the Midnight Pack Tournament."

Cheers erupt. I stay silent.

"I'll now read the list of participants."

My heart pounds. I scan the crowd. Looking for Joric. For Britney. They're nowhere.

"First up, Marcus Chen."

Applause.

"Second, Sarah Williams."

More applause.

"Third, Rhea Collins."

Everything stops.

My name. He just said my name.

"What?" I whisper.

Remy turns to me. His eyes are wide. "You entered?"

"No. I didn't. I—"

"Fourth, Britney Hall."

I hear her laugh. High-pitched. Mean. I turn.

She's standing twenty feet away. Smirking. Joric is next to her. Also smirking.

Oh no.

"Fifth, Joric Hall."

They did this. They registered me without my permission.

My hands curl into fists. Rage burns in my chest. Sable snarls.

How dare they, she hisses.

Beta Jack continues reading names. I don't hear them. Blood rushes in my ears.

Remy touches my arm. "Rhea. Breathe."

I can't breathe. I can barely think.

"You don't have to fight," Alec says quietly. "You can withdraw."

"And look weak?" The words come out sharp. Bitter. "That's exactly what they want."

"So what are you going to do?"

I stare at Joric and Britney. They're still smiling. Still celebrating their cruel joke.

Something hardens inside me. Something cold and certain.

"I'm going to fight," I say.

"Are you sure?" Remy asks.

"Yes."

Because I'm done hiding. Done pretending I'm weak. Done letting them treat me like I'm nothing.

If they want to see me fight, then I'll fight.

And I'll win.

Sable purrs with approval. Finally.

Beta Jack finishes reading the list. Thirty names total. Thirty wolves ready to compete.

"The first round begins in three days," he announces. "Matches will be posted tomorrow. Good luck to all participants."

The crowd disperses. I stay rooted to the spot.

This is really happening. I'm really doing this.

Remy and Alec stay with me.

"You're going to be amazing," Remy says.

"You're going to kick their asses," Alec adds.

I want to believe them. But fear sits heavy in my stomach.

Because fighting means being visible. Being seen. Being noticed.

And if Ryker is watching—if his Lycan is paying attention—then everything could change.

Everything.