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The first thing you should know about me is that I have spent seventeen years as the world's least impressive consolation prize.
My brother Lucien arrived first, screaming like he was already giving orders. The full moon was out. The elders felt his wolf before he even took his first breath. Golden eyes. Perfect lungs. Future alpha material. Then I showed up. The room went quiet. Silver white hair. Pale eyes. Skin so light I looked like I had been assembled in the dark. Some elder whispered "cursed," which was rude, but also fair. I have never shifted. Not once. No claws, no fangs, no wolf. Just me and my spectacular inability to meet expectations. Moonfang Pack has two alpha twins. Correction. Moonfang Pack has an alpha twin and whatever defective thing came attached to him. *** Moonfang Manor is exactly as miserable as it sounds. Everything is expensive wood and polished stone, but somehow it is freezing year round. The walls have heard every whispered insult about me. The dining table seats twenty, but I have never felt smaller than sitting at the far end while my father talks to Lucien and around me. "The scouts confirmed Nationals," Alpha Dominic announced at breakfast, not even glancing my way. Lucien straightened up. "Coach thinks we have a shot." "You will not embarrass Moonfang." "I know, Dad." I stabbed my eggs and considered spontaneous combustion. Selene Vale, my mother technically, noticed my hood was down. "At least cover your hair outside." Because the silver strands are the problem. Not the part where I am basically a werewolf without the wolf. Priorities. I pulled my hood up. "Happy?" She walked away without answering. Lucien kicked my foot under the table. I kicked back harder. He almost smiled. That is the thing about my brother. He is never cruel to me. Never joins the whispers or the sidelong glances. He just exists on the other side of an invisible wall. Caring from a distance. It is almost worse than outright hostility. *** Blackthorne Heights Academy saved my life. Not dramatically. No heroic rescues. Just a building full of humans who do not know Alpha Dominic Vale has two sons. As far as they know, Lucien is an only child at some fancy private school, and I am just some guy with insomnia. It is beautiful. "JEFF!" Anna Brooks slammed into me before I made it through the gates. I hit the pavement hard. "You are insane," I wheezed. "And yet here you are. Every day. Almost like you like me." "I question that decision constantly." She grinned like a maniac. Maxwell jogged up behind her, carrying an obscene amount of snacks and a hockey magazine. "You look terrible." "Thank you. Truly. My self esteem was getting dangerously high." "I am serious. Your face screams a tragic backstory." "You read too many comics." Ella fell into step beside Alex, studying me a second too long. "You did not sleep again." I shrugged. Sleeping is overrated anyway. *** The rooftop was our spot. Windy, slightly illegal, and perfect. Maxwell handed me a bag of chips. "Okay, real question. If you had to fight one horse sized duck or a hundred duck sized horses, what would you pick?" "That is the question you have been saving all morning?" "It is important." Anna snorted. "He has been texting me about this since midnight." "A hundred duck sized horses," I said. "Easily. They cannot coordinate. The horse sized duck would kill me instantly." "Finally, someone with sense," Maxwell said. "Ella said she would try to befriend the giant duck." Ella shrugged. "Diplomacy is valid." "Diplomacy with a monster duck," Alex said flatly. "You would last three seconds." "You do not know that." "I know you cried at a squirrel last week." "That squirrel looked suspicious." I laughed. Actually I laughed. It felt foreign in my throat. These moments still caught me off guard. My friends treated me like I was normal. No curses. No bloodlines. No failed shifts. Just Jeffery. It was terrifying, honestly. Because I had something to lose now. *** "Okay, next question," Maxwell said, leaning forward. "Be honest. On a scale from one to ten, how much does your family actually like you?" Anna kicked him. "Max." "What? We are all thinking about it." I considered lying. Then I looked at their faces. Genuine. Curious. Safe. "Negative three," I said. "Maybe negative four on a good day." Ella's expression softened. "That bad?" "My mother told me to cover my hair so I would not embarrass them at breakfast. My father has spoken to me exactly seven words today. I counted." "Seven words?" Alex said. "That is brutal." "Seven generous words. Most days I get zero." Anna put her hand on my shoulder. "For the record, we would give you at least a seven." "A seven?" I raised an eyebrow. "Only seven?" "Eight if you share your chips." I tossed her the bag. "Bribery works on me. Tragic, I know." Maxwell pretended to write something down. "The subject is emotionally neglected but easily bought with snacks. Fascinating." "You are all terrible friends." "And yet," Anna said, "you are smiling." She was right. I was. *** The conversation shifted to Nationals, which meant Roland Hayes. "Northfang is winning," Maxwell declared. "Roland Hayes exists. End of discussion." Ella sighed dreamily. "He is so attractive." "He looks like he has committed at least three felonies," Anna argued. "Both can be true." Alex pulled up an interview. Roland Hayes stood outside an arena, dark haired and terrifyingly calm. The reporter asked about rivals. "Moonfang is not a concern," Roland said. Maxwell clutched his chest. "Iconic." I looked away. Something twisted in my chest. Instinct. Warning. I did not know which. And then the rooftop lights flickered. Everyone froze. "That was weird," Maxwell said. "Right? That was weird." The lights flickered again. A cold breeze swept through, raising goosebumps on my arms. "Probably just a power surge," Alex said, but he did not sound convinced. Anna turned to me. "Jeff? You look pale. Paler than usual. Which is impressive." I could not answer. Because something was happening outside. *** I walked to the edge of the rooftop. My friends followed. The sky had changed. Dark clouds gathered above the school, moving faster than they should. They swirled like something was pushing them, pulling them, shaping them. "Okay," Maxwell said slowly. "That is not normal." Anna grabbed my sleeve. "Jeff, what is going on?" "Jeffery." A whisper. Right in my ear. I spun around. No one was there. "Did you hear that?" I asked. "Hear what?" Ella said. "You are scaring me." I turned back to the sky. The clouds were parting. Not slowly. Not naturally. They ripped open like curtains being pulled aside, and the light that spilled through was wrong. Too bright. Too silver. Too cold. The moon. It had appeared in the middle of the daylight sky. Full. Massive. Pulsing. And it was staring directly at me. "Jeffery," the whisper came again. Louder this time. Closer. My friends were saying something. Anna was shaking my arm. Maxwell was backing away. I could not hear them. The clouds continued to open. The moon kept pulsing. And somewhere in the distance, I heard tires screaming on the highway. Metal twisting. Glass shattering. Then silence. The clouds opened fully. The moon bathed everything in silver light. And I knew. Something terrible had just happened.Roland’s POVI yanked Jeffery straight into my small bathroom by his wrist, nearly pulling his arm out of its socket. My brain was completely fried with pure panic. The tile floor was freezing under our bare feet, but my hands were shaking so bad I could barely grab the metal shower handle. I slammed the tap open all the way. The showerhead hissed loudly before throwing a thick, heavy spray of hot water against the glass door, steam rising fast to fog up the mirror.We didn’t have a single second to waste on being careful. I reached over and pulled the designer shirt off over Jeffery’s head in one fast jerk, throwing it onto the floor by the sink. He was fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, breathing super fast, kicking them off his ankles while I yanked my pants down to my knees. The cold morning air against our bare skin made us both shiver hard, but the crazy rush in my blood felt like pure fire.Four minutes. We had four stupid minutes to wash off the sweat, the red marks, an
Jeffery’s POVConsciousness crashes into me like a brutal body check into the hard ice rinks. One second I was deep in a foggy dream, floating in that weird limbo between sleep and total darkness, and the next, my shoulder is being violently yanked back and forth. The cozy warmth of the bed is instantly ripped away as my eyes snap wide open in the dark. The ugly green numbers of the alarm clock on the nightstand glow sharply through the dark room: 3:47 AM.My head feels like someone slammed a heavy brick straight into my skull. My muscles are heavy, dead, and locked up with exhaustion. Sleep deprivation clings to my brain like thick, sticky glue. I can barely breathe, let alone process why the room is shaking or why my heart is suddenly pounding against my ribs like a trapped wild animal.“Wake up! Now!” a voice barks in my ear.It’s Roland. His grip on my bare shoulder is so tight his fingers are practically bruising my skin. I blink through the blurry darkness, struggling to focu
Roland’s POVThe bedroom was pitch black, quiet as a graveyard, and warm from our bodies tangled up together under the heavy duvet. I was out cold, knocked into the deepest sleep I’d had in weeks. My arm was still wrapped tight around Jeffery’s waist, holding his back squished against my chest so he couldn’t slip away while I was passed out. My muscles were completely sore, heavy as lead, and buzzing with that lazy, completely drained feeling that hits you right after mind-blowing sex. After the shouting in the locker room, the paparazzi ambush, and the wild hours on the couch, my brain had completely shut off.Then the sound hit.A sharp, piercing ring sliced right through the dark silence like a jagged blade.The loud vibration buzzed aggressively against the wooden top of my nightstand, rattling my glass of water so hard it sounded like an alarm going off in a small room.“Ugh... damned it,” I groaned into the pillow, my head feeling heavy and foggy. I didn’t want to move. I di
Jeffery’s POVWe eventually moved away from the wrecked couch and staggered into Roland’s bedroom. The big bed was super soft, smelling faintly of clean laundry and Roland’s familiar cologne. Roland didn’t even bother pulling the covers up properly before he crashed out completely. The intense encounter on the couch, mixed with all the crazy stress from the locker room fight and the paparazzi ambush, had completely drained all his energy. He fell into a deep, satisfied sleep within seconds, his heavy breathing turning into a steady, quiet rhythm in the dark room.Even in his sleep, he couldn’t let go of me. His long, muscular arm was possessively draped over my waist, his heavy hand resting firmly on my stomach, holding me tightly against his warm body. He held me like a big, greedy kid clutching his favorite toy, refusing to let me slip away even in his dreams. I lay awake beside him, staring straight up at the dark ceiling. The city outside the high-rise window was completely quiet
Roland’s POV The silly joke died right in my throat, freezing the smile on my face before it could even fully form. One second I was lying feeling like a king, grinning against Jeffery’s skin and chuckling about how we wrecked my living room couch, and the next, my whole body went totally rigid. The cozy, lazy afterglow floating around my head popped like a cheap balloon. A single, cold drop of water landed right on my bare arm where it was resting against his face. I blinked fast in the dim gray light coming through the giant windows, leaning back just an inch to look down at him. Jeffery had his eyes squeezed shut tight, his dark lashes wet and sticking together. Another clear tear leaked out from the corner of his eye, tracing a quiet path down his cheek and soaking straight into the throw pillow beneath his head. My stomach did a violent, sickening drop, like I had just missed the bottom step in the dark.“Hey,” I whispered softly, my voice suddenly sounding very raspy and strai
Jeffery’s POVThe world narrows down to pure sensation the second Roland’s lips meet mine. All the crazy drama from tonight, the shouting in the locker room, the flashing paparazzi cameras, and Maxwell trying to take me away, completely disappear into thin air. The only thing left in the entire universe is Roland’s heavy body pressed on top of mine, the smell of his soap mixing with sweat, and the burning heat trapped between us on this soft living room couch.Roland makes good on his promise, his body pressing Jeffery into the cushions with a desperate, consuming intensity. He doesn’t hold back at all. Every single thrust of his hips, every possessive stroke of his hand, and every heavy press of his weight feels like a loud, wordless demand. He is telling me to stay right here, to stop overthinking everything in my head, and to just be his. He is claiming every single inch of my body, leaving zero room for me to pull away or doubt him.My hands fly to his bare back, my fingers digg
I hated every second of this new life. I hated waking up early for interviews I did not care about. I hated people staring at me everywhere I went like I belonged to them now. I hated the cameras outside Northcrest Academy and the way students suddenly moved aside whenever I walked past. Most of
I lingered in front of the mirror longer than I should have. The reflection staring back at me felt wrong. My black hair replaced the usual silver. Lucien's face looked back instead of my own. It was like a life not meant for me was staring through the glass. I adjusted the collar of my Northcrest
My phone buzzed against the cafeteria table like a warning shot. Alpha Dominic. My father never called me first. Ever. Our communication consisted of him grunting in my direction at dinner and me existing quietly in the background. I answered anyway. "Hello?" "Come home immediately." The line
My fist hit the locker door before I could stop myself. The loud thud echoed down the empty hallway like a gunshot, bouncing off the concrete walls and metal benches. My fists stung immediately, but I barely felt it. The anger was too loud inside my head. "You think this is a game?" I snapped, tur







