Rewrite My Story

Tiara’s POV

“You gonna tell me why you ran out the way you did?”

His voice startles me even though it shouldn’t. Luke’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like I’m some kind of mystery he’s determined to solve.

I don’t answer.

Mostly because I can’t.

What the hell am I supposed to say? Oh sorry, I freaked out because you’re not supposed to be real and I’m definitely not supposed to be here?

Yeah. No.

So I just stare at the floor, my hands gripping the edge of the bed so tight my knuckles ache.

Luke sighs, and I can hear the faint irritation in it.

“You faint in the middle of game practice,” he says, “then bolt down the hallway like your tail’s on fire. Doesn’t exactly make sense, does it?”

I finally look up at him.

His golden eyes catch mine, sharp and impatient and… god. They’re even more unreal up close.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Why’d you even bring me here?” I say.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I lift my chin. “Why here? For all I know, we’re still strangers. You don’t even know me.”

That stops him for a second. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away.

“We are strangers,” he admits. “But you fainted. What did you expect me to do? Leave you lying in the hallway like trash?”

I almost la I'llugh at that. Leave me like trash? Yeah, that would feel familiar.

But no. I bite my tongue and shake my head.

“You could’ve taken me to the nurses’ office,” I shot back.

Luke narrows his eyes at me, clearly annoyed now. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? You think I’d rather have people gossip about me dragging some girl into the infirmary when I could just handle it here?”

I scoff before I can stop myself.

And honestly? I don’t even know why I’m being so harsh.

This is Luke Thorne. My favorite character. My favorite everything. I’ve cried over him. Screamed over him. Hated and loved him through twenty books of heartbreak and tragedy.

And now here I am, face to face with him. And instead of falling all over myself… I’m snapping at him like I’ve got something to prove.

Maybe I’m just… jealous.

Jealous of the girl who was supposed to stand here instead of me.

Elara.

The “perfect” female lead who Luke falls for.

And whose choices end up costing him his life.

I clench my fists in my lap. No. Not this time.

I’m not following the script.

For all I know, following the script is what killed him in the first place.

Because Luke… Luke has secrets.

Secrets it took Elara months and me, through my obsessive re-reads to figure out.

Biggest of them all?

That Luke Thorne isn’t just some immortal hockey star.

He’s an immortal werewolf.

And no one was there to save him.

I won’t make the same mistake.

I am a werewolf too, sweetheart.

“Ungrateful,” Luke mutters, cutting through my thoughts.

I blink. “What?”

“You don’t appreciate my effort,” he says flatly, pushing off the wall.

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I throw myself at your feet?” I shoot back, rolling my eyes.

His mouth twitches, almost like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Don’t bother. Wouldn’t suit you.”

I actually snort at that before catching myself.

“What now?” I mumble, more to myself than to him.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just checks his phone, then slides it back into his pocket.

“You can’t leave yet,” he finally says.

My head snaps up. “What? Why not?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “Nobody’s allowed to be in or out before nine. Rules. So unless you want to risk running into some of the others…” He jerks his chin toward the door. “…you’re better off staying put.”

I let out a grunt and flop back on the bed.

That’s right.

Nine o’clock. That was in the book too. The rules of the Elite Boys’ hostel.

I bury my face in my hands.

What am I even doing?

I should probably… check.

Make sure.

I get up and start looking around the room until I find a mirror tucked in the corner. My heart’s already hammering.

If I’m Elara…

If I’m actually her now…

I’m expecting to see long blonde hair. Blue eyes. Perfect pale skin.

Luke’s biggest weakness has always been blondes. That’s what drew him to Elara at first.

I close my eyes. Take a deep breath.

And then I look.

And almost fall over.

Because staring back at me… is me.

Same black silk hair. Same almond-colored eyes. Same dusting of freckles across my cheeks.

Not Elara.

Me.

I press my fingers to the glass, confused.

How the hell—

“Something wrong?”

I jump. Luke’s standing right behind me, his arms crossed again.

I whip around. “No! Nothing’s wrong!”

He raises a brow. “You’re acting like a crazy person.”

I glare at him. Then something slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Wait. I thought you had a thing for blondes. Isn’t that why you noticed Elara first?”

As soon as the words leave my lips, I freeze.

Oh no.

Luke’s expression darkens instantly.

His golden eyes narrow into something sharp.

“How do you know that?” he asks, his voice low now. Dangerous.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

My brain stumbles over itself, trying to come up with something, anything—that doesn’t sound insane.

“Uh…”

He takes a slow step closer. “Well?”

“Maybe… the magazine?” I blurt.

He studies me for a long moment, then finally smirks faintly.

“That figures. They love to make up stories about me.”

I nod quickly, letting out a shaky laugh.

“Yeah. Magazine. That’s it.”

But then he tilts his head, his eyes still fixed on me like he’s trying to see straight through my skin.

“I do have a thing for blondes,” he says softly.

Then his smirk sharpens into something colder.

“And that, Tiara, is exactly why I wanted you to help me get closer to Elara.”

I blink. “I… what?”

“You heard me.”

My stomach drops.

“Wait… you know my name?”

His smirk widens.

“Of course I do, Tiara. You’re Elara’s best friend, aren’t you?”

I stare at him, my throat dry.

Best friend?

Elara is… my best friend?

What in the world is happening?

I take a step back, bumping into the edge of the bed.

Luke doesn’t move.

He just keeps staring at me with those golden eyes, like he’s already two steps ahead of me and waiting for me to catch up.

And all I can think is…

This isn’t the story I know.

Not at all.