Fated to my Alpha nemesis

Rule number one for anyone living in a werewolf pack—especially if that person is human: Never humiliate the future Alpha.

Rule number two?

If you do, don’t get caught.

I broke rule number one three hours ago.

And right now, I just broke rule number two.

“You can run, but you can't hide, human,” Darren says with a cackle.

They’ve been chasing me for hours, and this time I know they won’t stop.

The damp earth smells of decay and rain-soaked leaves. Every snapping twig beneath their feet sends a metallic twist through my stomach. My pulse pounds loud enough to betray me.

There’s a half moon out. Moon and her little companions guard my path through the trees.

Silver light slips between branches, streaking the forest floor.

They can probably see, hear, and scent me far better than I can run — but I refuse to believe I’m helpless.

“Run as fast as you can, Micaela,” Damon calls, his voice carrying easily through the trees. “Because when I catch you, you are going to regret ever being born.”

And I know he means it.

I contemplate climbing a tree. Wolves are terrible climbers.

Or at least that's what I'm betting my survival on.

If I get to the top fast enough, they won’t be able to reach me. However, I’m not entirely sure they wouldn’t fell the tree just to get to me.

With no other option in sight, I decide to scale the tallest tree I can find.

I search for a handhold as quickly as possible, then use it to propel myself upward. With my other hand, I grab a stump above my head. I find a place for my right foot and, with the combined effort of my hands and sneaker-clad feet, I begin making progress.

The snapping of sticks and crunching of leaves announce their closeness.

I close my eyes for a moment to steady my breathing, then climb higher.

A bug crawls up my arm and I shriek, holding on with one arm as I flap the other repeatedly to get whatever’s on it off.

I let out a heavy sigh when I no longer feel the creature on my skin.

For a moment, I regret printing and plastering those pictures of Damon dressed in eyeliner and a pleated skirt all over school.

Caption: Future Alpha. Current Drama Queen.

His face when he saw them had been priceless. Almost been worth this.

Almost.

I knew I’d be in trouble.

I just didn’t expect a manhunt.

I shake off the regret.

Pranks are the only way I ever hit back.

I refuse to be their favorite punching bag without consequences.

I climb.

My palms and feet begin to ache with the promise of blisters. I ignore it and double my pace.

“Over there,” Rachael yells. “She’s up in that tree.”

“Fuck,” I mutter.

I refuse to look down as I focus on the task before me.

For some reason, Damon’s friends are fiercely loyal to him, despite the fact that he’s an ass. I’ve never understood that.

Dad says it’s because of the effect of the alpha blood running through him, while Cole believes they just want positions in the pack when he becomes Alpha, so they start their ass-kissing early.

I think they simply identified their fellow asses in each other and formed a band of grumpy idiots who have nothing better to do than make my life hell.

Damon growls, the sound sending a cold shiver of fear down my spine.

When I finally look down, the group has stopped at the base of the tree, effectively surrounding it. Darren is in his wolf form, while Damon, Rachael, and Mason remain human.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Micaela. You’ll fall. Come down,” Damon calls with that smugness I find absolutely infuriating.

I grit my teeth.

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t like to see that,” I shoot back.

“You’re right. I would. But I’d rather not deal with a crime scene. Come down.”

He says it like I’ll bow to his whims.

Like one word from him pulls the strings and I dance.

It annoys me — that making my life miserable isn’t enough for him.That he thinks he can control me too.

“You are not the boss of me.”

“Micaela, come down.”He says it like a warning.

I absolutely will not heed.

“So you can corner me? I’d rather take my chances falling.”

“She’s not going to come down, Damon,” Mason says.

Smart boy.

“The bitch is crazy,” Rachael mutters.

“Takes one to know one,” I retort as I resume climbing.

“Bitch.”

I roll my eyes. Typical. “I think you need to expand your vocabulary, dear.”

She growls.

I laugh.

Climbing the tree isn’t so hard anymore. I’m almost at the top.

Just when I start getting comfortable, my foot slips.

A loose piece of bark tears away.

For a terrifying heartbeat, I dangle over the darkness below. My hands dig into the branch, knuckles white, heart pounding in my throat. If I fall now, there’s no telling how badly I’ll hurt myself… or whether they’ll catch me.

The muscles in my arms begin to tremble as I struggle for a better grip. Sweat beads on my forehead.

They laugh.

Damon doesn’t.

But I’d bet he’s enjoying this.

Not today, I tell myself.

I hear the cracking and rejoining of bones that accompanies Darren shifting back into human form.

I shut my eyes for a second, then open them. Gritting my teeth, I haul myself up, shivering — not from the cold, but from the rush of adrenaline.

I find a sturdier branch and adjust my grip, switching handholds and planting my feet properly before pulling myself higher with a groan.

I reach the top and settle onto a branch, staring down at the ground far below, my heart still racing.

Slowly, I relax.

The night breeze hits my skin, and I suddenly feel stupid for not considering that this high up would be colder. My pink T-shirt is far too light, and my jean shorts far too short.

They can’t possibly plan on staying here all night… can they?

Moon’s glow is clearer from this height, and I study the little crevices etched into her surface.

In the distance, an owl hoots. Crickets sing in the night’s quiet.

“Someone should climb it,” Mason suggests after a while.

“Not me,” Rachael says immediately.

“I’ll go,” Darren offers eagerly. “Get ready to scream,” he calls up to me.

Why can’t they just leave me alone?

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn.

“Then I’m definitely doing it.”

Dumbass.

I close my eyes and send a silent prayer to Moon for strength before climbing down a few branches.

I didn’t choose this tree for its height alone, but also for the rock-hard fruits it bears.

Darren begins climbing.

I begin gathering my nutty weapons.

It takes him longer than it took me to maneuver through the stumps and knots of the tree. They have no idea how much experience I have.

Scaling trees is a pastime for me — at least when I’m not being chased by werewolves intent on murder.

A few near falls and curse words later, Darren reaches a reasonable height.

I release fire.

“Fuck!” Darren snarls. “I’m going to get you, human!”

He continues climbing, so I triple my assault.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

He slips.

For a moment, I think he’s going to fall.

A smile spreads across my lips.

“Quit throwing that stuff at me!”

“Are you dumb? Why would I stop?”

Darren’s fall is accompanied by a loud thud, crunching leaves, and snapping twigs.

He won’t be too hurt. It’ll take time, but whatever’s broken will heal.

Werewolf abilities and all that.

Unfair. I know.

“Who’s next?” I call out.

Silence answers me.

I thought as much.

Then Damon steps closer to the tree.

He looks up at me, the startling green of his eyes catching the moonlight.

“Catch her,” he says quietly, eyes fixed on me.

Oh, goddess.

I should have known he’d never let me get away that easily.

I expect him to climb.

He doesn’t.

Even from this height, I can almost see the smirk on his face.

Slowly…

He begins to shift.

Bones snap with sharp cracks, joints popping. Muscles coil and lengthen beneath skin that ripples and tears into fur. A snout pushes forward, teeth bared, eyes burning with green fire.

He was human a second ago.

Now the forest holds a predator in his place.

And I am its target.

A massive black wolf stands at the base of the tree.

And snarls.

My mouth goes dry.

He lowers his head.

And rams the trunk.

The entire tree shudders violently.

The branch jerks beneath me.

My fingers slip.

And—

—I scream.