MasukI 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 all, I hated pretending to be someone else every minute of the day. It had only been six days. Six days since Lucien's accident. Six days since Dominic decided my life no longer mattered. And already I felt exhausted. I missed Blackthorne Academy more than I expected. I missed sitting with Anna and Maxwell during lunch while they argued over stupid things. I missed Ella stealing fries from everybody's plate. I even missed Alex acting like an old man trapped inside a teenager's body. That life had been simple. Quiet. Nobody looked at me twice there. Nobody expected me to carry an entire pack on my back. *** My phone vibrated while I sat alone in Northcrest's empty hallway before practice. Anna. I stared at the screen for a few seconds before answering. "Finally," Anna said immediately. "Do you know how worried I have been?" I leaned my head back against the wall. "I am alive." "You disappeared for almost a week." "It has not been that long." "It has for normal people who answer their phones." Despite everything, I smiled faintly. That sounded just like her. Anna's voice softened. "What is going on?" I looked down at the hockey bag by my feet. How was I supposed to answer that? Oh, nothing serious. I am secretly pretending to be my twin brother while living inside a werewolf nightmare. "Family problems," I said quietly. Silence stretched through the phone. Anna knew me too well. "You sound tired." "I am tired." "Is it bad?" I swallowed slowly. "Kinda." "Do you want me to come over?" Part of me nearly said yes. I wanted normal so badly right now. I wanted one honest conversation where I did not have to think before speaking. But that was impossible now. "No," I said softly. "I just need to deal with some things first." Anna sighed. "You better come back soon because Maxwell is getting dramatic." I almost laughed. Almost. *** I changed quietly while the others joked around me. Kelvin sat nearby scrolling through his phone. "The internet thinks we are destroying Northfang tonight." Travis laughed. "Good. Somebody needs to humble Roland Hayes." That name again. I stayed focused on my skates. Ever since our first meeting, something about Roland felt wrong in a way I could not explain. Every time we looked at each other, I felt too aware of him. It annoyed me. Coach clapped his hands loudly. "On the ice. Now." The team moved immediately. I followed them out. The rink lights were brighter tonight. Students filled the stands already even though this was only a practice match. Hockey here was treated like a battle. Then Northfang stepped onto the ice. I immediately recognized Roland. Tall, calm, with a chilled aura that made everyone else feel louder. He moved across the ice effortlessly, seemingly unimpressed by anything around him. But the moment his eyes settled on me, they lingered. I looked away first. Not because Roland seemed angry. Because he was so observant, like he was trying to figure something out. The whistle blew. *** I forced myself to focus on skating instead of overthinking. That was harder than it sounded. Lucien moved naturally, his body flowing without hesitation. I still had to think about every turn, every stop, every pass. A puck slid toward me. I caught it poorly and almost lost my balance. Someone from Northfang laughed. "Vale looks rusty." I ignored it and kept pushing forward. The crowd noise grew louder. Players crashed into each other near the walls. The coach yelled constantly from the sidelines. Everything moved too fast. Then I saw Roland skating straight toward me. I tightened my grip on the stick automatically. Roland stopped directly in front of me. For a second, neither of us moved. "You are distracted," he said calmly. I frowned. "Worried about me?" His expression barely changed. "You should worry about yourself." The puck flew between us. Both of us moved at the same time. Our shoulders slammed together hard enough to make me stumble backward. The reaction hit instantly. Something strange rushed through me so suddenly it almost hurt. Not pain exactly. More like pressure building under my skin. My heartbeat sped up. For half a second, I forgot where I was. Roland froze too. Just briefly. But I noticed. Our eyes locked again. The noise around the rink faded strangely. I felt exposed standing there, like Roland could suddenly see too much. Then another player crashed between us, breaking the moment. I stepped away immediately. My breathing felt uneven now. What the hell was that? The rest of the game became harder. Every time Roland got near me, I felt that same strange tension again. Something dangerous. *** Roland kept watching me too. Not openly enough for others to notice, but enough for me to feel it. Near the end of the game, I lost control of the puck again. Roland stole it easily. "You are not playing like yourself today," he said quietly as he skated past. I forced myself to glare at him. "Mind your business." Roland looked at me for a long second before skating away. That look stayed in my mind long after. It did not feel random. It felt intentional. Like Roland already knew something nobody else did. The final whistle blew. I left the ice immediately before anyone could stop me. My heart still felt unsteady. This whole situation was getting worse. I could handle fake interviews. I could survive Northcrest. But Roland Hayes was becoming a problem. *** I hurried down the empty hallway outside the locker rooms, hoping for a second alone. Then a voice behind me said, "You are a terrible liar." I stopped instantly. Slowly, I turned around. Roland stood at the end of the hallway staring directly at me.POV: Roland Roland sat in the old leather chair in his cluttered home office late at night. Stacks of papers covered the desk, and the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room. Jeffrey stood right in front of him, voice trembling as he demanded answers. “Who did you say ‘I love you’ to on that phone call?” Jeffrey asked. He wasn’t yelling. His eyes looked hurt, like something inside him was cracking. “I need to know. Are you with someone else? Was this all fake for you?” Roland tried to look away. His hands gripped the arms of the chair. “Jeff, it’s not what you think.” Jeffrey stepped closer. “Then tell me. I’ve been through enough with videos and fake stuff. Don’t make me guess anymore. My trust is already gone.” Roland’s chest felt tight. He wanted to explain everything, but the words stuck. The blackmail, the pressure, all of it. He ran a hand over his face. “I can’t drag you into this. It’s bigger than us.” Jeffrey’s face twisted with hurt. “Bigger than us? I’m fa
POV: Jeffery Jeffery stood in the middle of the penthouse, arms crossed tightly, face guarded. Roland stood across from him, looking nervous. The fake relationship had turned into a complete mess of real feelings and broken trust. “We need to talk,” Jeffery said firmly. “I’m going to forgive you. But I have two conditions.” Roland nodded quickly. “Anything. I’ll do anything.” Jeffery held up one finger. “First condition. Tell me who you were talking to on the phone. The one where you said ‘I love you.’ Is it a relationship? Are you just friends? I need the truth.” Roland’s face went pale. He opened his mouth then closed it. “Jeffery, it’s complicated…”— Jeffery’s stomach dropped. He waited but Roland stayed silent, eyes darting away. Anger bubbled up fast. Without another word he turned and walked to the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge, grabbed a soda and some leftover pizza, but his hands shook. He wasn’t even hungry. Roland was still keeping secrets. And Jeffery was al
POV: Jeffery Jeffery stood on that stupid stage with lights blinding him from every side. Cameras flashed like crazy, clicking nonstop. His stomach twisted tight. The stripping video still played in his head and probably everyone else’s too. He felt naked all over again, even in this button-up shirt Roland picked out. Whispers rippled through the crowd right away. “Look at him. Total mess.” “Roland Hayes deserves way better.” “He’s just riding the fame train.” Jeffery’s face burned hot. Humiliation hit him like a slap. He wanted to bolt, jump off the stage and run until his legs gave out. His hands shook at his sides. Why did he agree to this? Fake couple stuff for the sponsors. All eyes on him like he was some joke. Then Roland’s hand slid into his. Warm. Steady. He squeezed gently, thumb brushing over Jeffery’s knuckles. Jeffery glanced over quickly. Roland’s jaw was set, eyes fierce and protective like he was ready to fight the whole room. “Let me handle this,” Rolan
POV: JefferyJeffery sat in the cold conference room, hands trembling under the table. The AC blew freezing air across his neck while his face burned hot. Roland sat right across from him, face blank like a stranger. No smirk, no anger, just nothing. The three sponsors stood at the head like they owned the world and Jeffery had just trashed it. One guy in a sharp black suit slammed a tablet down so hard the sound cracked through the room."Look at this,” the sponsor barked. “Videos of you half-naked, shoving people, drunk off your face. It’s everywhere. Twitter, TikTok, Instagram. Comments are calling you a mess. This is unacceptable. You’re dragging our brand through the mud.” Jeffery’s stomach twisted hard. He wanted to explain the fight with Roland, the stupid call that started everything, how one thing snowballed into that basement nightmare. His mouth opened but the words got stuck. Heart pounding, throat tight, he just sat there frozen.Before he could get anything out, Roland
POV: JefferyJeffery woke up with a pounding headache that felt like someone was hammering nails into his skull. His mouth tasted like old socks and bad decisions. He groaned loudly, pressing both palms against his temples. The room spun a little when he tried to sit up. Sunlight stabbed through the curtains in his apartment. Morning already. How did he even get here?He cracked his eyes open. Anna, Maxwell, and Chloe stood right in front of his bed, arms crossed. Their faces mixed worry with that annoyed look friends get when you screw up big. Anna looked soft but tired. Maxwell had his jaw tight. Chloe just raised one eyebrow as if she was waiting for answers.Jeffery blinked hard and looked around. Yep, his own apartment. His own messy bed with the same blue sheets. No idea how he ended up back here. Last thing he remembered was the bar. Then... nothing clear.“What happened?” he croaked, his voice rough like sandpaper.Anna stepped forward first and handed him a mug of coffee. The
Roland’s POVRoland and Anna burst out of the bar chasing Jeffery. The cool night air slapped their faces as they followed him down the street. He was stumbling fast for a drunk guy, keys still in his hand. They lost him for a minute near the old warehouses but spotted a crowd up ahead. Loud music thumped from an abandoned house with a half-broken basement door. People were spilling out, laughing and shouting. This was bad.They pushed through the crowd. The basement smelled like mould, cheap beer, and sweat. Dim string lights hung from cracked ceilings. Someone had turned the place into a wild pop-up party. In the middle, on a rickety old table being used as a stage, stood Jeffery. Shirt already off, tossed somewhere. He was fumbling with his belt, pants low on his hips. About to drop his boxers right there in front of everyone.“Jeffery!” Anna yelled, shoving past some laughing guys with phones out.Roland’s stomach flipped. “What the hell, man?”Anna didn’t wait. She jumped up on t
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. Golde
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
I stood frozen in the dim concrete hallway, my back pressed against the cold wall like it could somehow save me. The silence pressed down, thick and heavy. My pulse hammered so fiercely I could feel it in my teeth. Every part of me screamed to run, but my legs refused to move. Roland did not rush.
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







