Chapter 1—

Ella's POV

The bleachers are cold as hell, but I don't care.

Damon's out on the ice, skating laps like he's the only person in the world. The rink lights make his jersey glow. His blades cut clean lines behind him, and I could watch him forever.

Practice ended twenty minutes ago. Everyone else already left, the other players, the coach, even the janitor who usually kicks me out. But Damon knows I'm here. He always knows.

He glides to the boards right in front of me and looks up. His grin is stupidly perfect.

"You're still here."

"I'm always still here."

He laughs and skates toward the players' tunnel. I know what comes next. I grab my bag and hurry around to the back entrance, the one near the locker rooms.

The storage room door creaks when I push it open. It's small in here, just hockey sticks, boxes of tape, and a bench along the wall. Damon's already there, waiting. His hair is wet from the shower now. He changed into jeans and a hoodie.

He pulls me inside and kisses me before the door fully closes.

His lips are warm now. I like this part. The part where it's just us and nothing else matters.

"You okay?" he asks, pulling back to look at me.

"I'm okay."

"You seem quiet."

I shrug. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

About how I have to sit in the back of every class so no one sees me looking at you. About how I eat lunch alone while you're at the popular table with Sera and her friends. About how your phone buzzes with her name sometimes when we're together and you always turn the screen away.

But I don't say any of that.

"Just nervous about tomorrow," I say instead.

He cups my face in his hands. His palms are rough from the hockey stick. "Don't be nervous. Tomorrow's going to be perfect."

"You don't know that."

"I do." He says it so sure. So confident. "I'm winning that award. Coach basically told me already. And when I get up there, I'm calling you up. Everyone's going to see you. Everyone's going to know."

My heart does that thing it always does when he talks like this. That flutter. That hope.

"And Sera?" The name leaves a bad taste. "She's going to be sitting right there. What if she"

"Sera doesn't matter." He cuts me off. "Sera's just... she's just someone I have to deal with. Her dad is on the school board. You know how it is."

I don't really know how it is. He's never explained. Every time I ask, he says it's complicated.

But I let it go. I always let it go.

"Promise me," I whisper. "Promise me you'll actually do it this time."

His face changes. Just for a second. Something flickers in his eyes, guilt maybe, or annoyance. But then it's gone, and he's smiling again.

"I promised already."

"Say it again."

He sighs, but it's a soft sigh. Tired, not mean. "I promise, Ella. Tomorrow night. Everyone knows."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so bad.

He kisses my forehead. "I should go. My mom texted like three times."

"Yeah. Okay."

He pulls away and grabs his bag. At the door, he pauses. "You need a ride? I could drop you somewhere close and you could walk the rest."

It's the same offer he always makes. The same offer I always refuse.

"It's fine. I'll walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He nods and leaves. The door swings shut behind him.

I sit on the bench for a minute. Maybe five. The storage room smells like ice and sweat and the air freshener the janitor uses. I've spent so much time in here this past year. It's basically our second home.

When I finally leave, the night air hits me hard. Cold. November cold. I pull my jacket tighter and start walking.

The streets are quiet. Dark. I pass houses with lights on inside, families eating dinner or watching TV. Normal stuff. Stuff I don't have.

My phone buzzes. A text from Damon:

Home safe. Text me when you get there.

I smile despite everything. He does care. He wouldn't text if he didn't care.

I type back: Almost there.

Another buzz: Tomorrow changes everything. I mean it.

I hold the phone to my chest for a second. Right over my heart.

By the time I get home, my fingers are numb and my nose is running. The house is dark except for the kitchen light. Mom works nights at the diner, so I'm used to coming home to an empty house.

I heat up leftover spaghetti in the microwave and eat standing over the sink. My phone sits on the counter, and I keep looking at it. Waiting for another message.

He doesn't send one.

That's okay. He's probably asleep. Hockey players need their rest.

I wash my plate and head to my room. My bed is unmade, like always. My closet door doesn't close all the way because too many clothes are stuffed inside. The mirror on my wall shows me everything I don't want to see.

I look at myself for a long time.

Tomorrow, everyone's going to see me. Really see me. And I'm terrified.

Not because of Damon. I trust Damon. It's everyone else I don't trust. It's the way they look at me now, like I'm invisible at best, a joke at worst. What happens when they find out their star player chose me? What happens when Sera finds out?

I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling.

My wolf is quiet tonight. She's always quiet. Sometimes I wonder if she's even real, or if the whole werewolf thing skipped me somehow. Mom says my wolf will wake up when she's ready. When I meet my mate.

But that's a joke, right? Guys like Damon don't end up with girls like me. That's not how it works. He's just... different. He sees something in me that no one else does.

Or maybe he's just using me until something better comes along.

No. I can't think like that. He promised.

I roll over and grab my phone. One last message from me:

Goodnight. See you tomorrow. I love you.

I've only said that a few times. He doesn't always say it back. But tonight, right before I drift off, my phone buzzes.

Love you too. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.

I fall asleep smiling.

And I have no idea that tomorrow is going to destroy me.