chapter 2

One wrong word and his whole world would come crashing down.

Dane wiped the sweat from his face as he stepped into the quiet locker room after morning practice. The team had already cleared out, their laughter fading toward the mess hall. He tossed his gear into his locker and reached for a clean shirt when the door clicked shut behind him. Heavy footsteps echoed on the tile.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the big hero himself.”

Dane turned fast. Ezra Kane leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, that smug grin fixed on his face. His green eyes locked onto Dane with predatory focus.

“What do you want, Kane?” Dane asked, voice steady despite the spike in his pulse. “Practice is over. Go bother someone else.”

Ezra pushed off the lockers and stepped closer. “Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this, Wilder. Or should I say, the guy who can’t even shift on a quiet night in the woods?”

Dane’s stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Ezra shot back, grin widening. “Last night. I was running the trails after my second-place finish. Heard noises in the clearing. Saw you on your knees, groaning, begging your wolf to come out. It never did.”

Dane’s hands clenched into fists. “You were spying on me?”

“Spying?” Ezra laughed sharply. “I was just running. You’re the one putting on a show. The great Dane Wilder, academy golden boy, can’t shift. How long have you been faking it? All those wins, all that talk about pack strength—lies.”

…

“Keep your voice down,” Dane hissed, stepping chest to chest with him. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

Ezra didn’t flinch. “I know plenty. I saw you fail twice. Your body locked up. The things you said—‘My parents trusted me,’ ‘I can’t keep faking it.’ Pathetic.”

Dane’s face burned. He wanted to swing but held back. “What do you want? Here to ruin me? Go ahead. Tell everyone.”

“Not yet.” Ezra’s eyes sharpened. “Meet me tonight. Hidden clearing behind the old storage sheds. Nine sharp. We train. I help you figure out why your wolf won’t show. You show up, or I start talking. One word to the coach or the team chat, and your captaincy is gone by lunch.”

Dane swallowed hard, pride twisting painfully. “You think I’d trust you? My rival?”

“You don’t have a choice,” Ezra replied with a shrug. “Come alone. Or tomorrow the whole academy knows the truth.”

The silence stretched. Dane’s mind raced, but he had no escape. “Fine,” he growled. “I’ll be there. But if this is a joke, you’ll regret it.”

“Threats from the guy who can’t shift?” Ezra chuckled. “Cute. See you tonight, Wilder.”

He sauntered out, leaving Dane to slam his locker shut. His hands shook as he changed. He had worked too hard to build this image—now this arrogant rival held it all in his grasp.

The day dragged through classes and meetings, but Dane’s thoughts stayed fixed on the night ahead. By nine, he slipped out of the dorms and made his way to the hidden clearing, tucked behind thick brush and old trees. Moonlight barely pierced the canopy.

Ezra waited, leaning against a tree with a duffel bag at his feet. “You showed. Smart.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Dane said sharply. “What training can a track guy offer?”

Ezra unzipped the bag, revealing resistance bands and weighted vests. “Library research on old techniques. Forcing the shift through stress and movement. Start with ten perimeter runs at full speed. Then push-ups. Focus on your wolf the whole time.”

Dane eyed the gear skeptically but complied. They ran hard, feet pounding the dirt. Ezra kept pace, barking encouragement. “Faster! Picture the wolf breaking free—claws, fur, power!”

“Easy for you,” Dane panted. “You shift whenever you want. This isn’t working. I feel nothing but tired.”

“Again,” Ezra ordered. “Drop for fifty push-ups. Eyes closed. Breathe deep. Let it rise in your chest.”

Dane hit the ground, arms burning. Sweat poured down his face. “This is stupid. Nothing’s happening.”

“Keep going,” Ezra said, crouching nearby. “I saw you last night—you were close. What does it feel like?”

“Fire in my bones. Everything locks up. No release.” Dane pushed through the reps. “Why do you care? You hate me.”

Ezra laughed. “I like winning. Beating you fairly beats holding this secret. Talk. When did you first realize you couldn’t shift?”

“I was fourteen,” Dane grunted. “Full moon ceremony. Everyone changed easily. I froze. Dad covered, said late bloomer. It never came.”

“Harsh,” Ezra muttered. “My family pushes me hard too. Always first. Get up—jumping jacks, high knees. Drive it!”

They moved through more drills: burpees, sprints, resistance work. Ezra’s commands filled the clearing. “Harder! Use that fire from leading the team!”

“It’s not the same,” Dane shot back, chest heaving. “This is chasing something missing. You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe,” Ezra admitted with a smirk. “But I’m helping. Fifty more.”

The session intensified, but the final sprint went wrong. Dane’s leg cramped violently. He stumbled and crashed to the ground.

“Get up,” Ezra said.

“Back off,” Dane growled, sitting up. Anger boiled over. “This isn’t working. You’re making it worse. I shouldn’t have come.”

Ezra threw up his hands. “Fine. But remember, I can still talk. We try again soon.”

Dane stood slowly, body aching, pride in ruins. “Trusting you was a mistake. Stay out of my business, Kane.”

He grabbed his things and stormed out, branches snapping underfoot. The walk back felt endless. His muscles screamed, but his mind churned louder. Had he handed his rival the perfect weapon to destroy him? Or was there a slim chance this could actually help?

Either way, sleep would not come easy tonight.