THE ALPHA MUST DIE

Emilia never believed in omens.

But that day, the trees at the intersection whispered like they knew a secret. The wind sliced through her jacket despite the layers, and something heavy curled in her chest, a tightness she couldn’t explain, like the air itself had thickened.

“Happy birthday and graduation, darling.” The voice came out of nowhere, deep, familiar, jolting her like a snap of cold water. Emilia flinched, then looked up to find her father’s grin staring back at her from the rearview mirror.

She shifted in her seat, crossing her arms tightly. “Thanks, Dad. Didn’t think you’d show up. Thought work would come first. Again.”

His smile faltered slightly.

His eyes softened. “I know I’ve missed things.” He gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I’m trying to change that.”

Stephanie turned around from the passenger seat, giving Emilia a look that was part amused, part reproachful. “Be nice, honey. He really tried this time.”

Then, her expression softened, the teasing slipping away. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. You deserve to feel special today.”

Something touched her lap, Emilia looked between them, a box wrapped in brown paper and twine. She blinked in surprise. Her dad had passed it back without her even noticing.

“Open it when you’re alone,” Stephanie said, the excitement in her voice barely contained.

Confused, Emilia’s brows knit together. Then the corners of her mouth lifted slowly. Maybe… just maybe, it was what she’d been hinting at for weeks. Her parents were grinning, Stephanie was practically glowing, Max smirking with mischief in his eyes.

“Let’s stop at McDonald’s!” Emilia said, her voice bubbling with sudden joy.

“It’s late, honey. We should head home,” Stephanie replied, though her tone was warm.

Max glanced at Emilia through the mirror, then grinned wider. “McDonald’s it is.”

The road narrowed as they turned off the main highway. The darkness felt heavier here, the streetlights spaced too far apart. Emilia pressed her nose to the cold glass, watching frost race across the edges of the window.

Then the car jolted.

They bounced once, hard.

“What was that?” Stephanie gasped, hand flying to the dash.

“No idea,” Max muttered, already easing the car to the shoulder.

He stepped into the cold, crunching over gravel as he made his way toward the back. Stephanie leaned forward, peering into the mirror, her fingers white-knuckled on her purse.

“Mom? What’s going on?” Emilia’s voice wavered.

Before her mother could answer, Max came sprinting back to the car, eyes wide with something Emilia had never seen in them before.

“Drive. Now!” he shouted, slamming the door shut.

Emilia’s heart thundered in her ears. “Dad? What happened?”

“Almost home,” he said, voice tight, jaw clenched. His eyes flicked wildly between the mirrors and the road as he floored the gas.

They barely made it around the next bend when it stepped into their path.

A creature, no other word fits. Broad shoulders. Thick fur. Glowing eyes. Something between wolf and man. It stood still as a statue, as if waiting.

Max didn’t brake. He couldn’t.

“Dad!” Emilia cried, but the word was swallowed by the screech of tires.

Her scream caught in her throat. Her limbs locked. Her mind screamed to move, to duck, to run… but she was frozen.

The tires screamed as Max wrenched the wheel to the left. The car tilted, lost balance, then flipped. Once. Twice. Glass exploded. Metal screeched. The world spun, then slammed to a stop…. upside-down.

Everything was still. Then came the sound of a tire spinning slowly in the air.

“Emilia… Stephanie…” Max’s voice broke, rasping through blood and grit.

He reached out with one trembling arm. The other was gone. His eyes scanned the wreckage. Stephanie was slumped forward, unmoving. Something sharp and metal had pierced through her seat and… her.

“Steph… Stephanie!” he gasped, voice cracking. He thrashed against the seatbelt, pain erupting from every nerve.

“Emilia…” His voice dropped into a whisper.

Just hold on, he thought. Please…

Then he heard it.

Footsteps. Steady. Close.

Emilia’s eyes fluttered open, just barely. Everything blurred and swayed. She caught a glimpse … boots? paws? Before the darkness returned.

The next time her eyes opened, everything was too white. Too clean. Machines beeped in rhythm. The air stank of antiseptic.

A girl sat beside her bed, clutching a phone in both hands.

“You’re awake,” the girl breathed, then bolted from the room. Moments later, she returned with a doctor and nurse.

“I’m Doctor Frank. Can you tell me your name?” He leaned over, flashlight in hand, examining her pupils.

“Emilia,” she whispered, her throat dry as sandpaper.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, lifting her wrist to check her pulse.

She blinked slowly. “No.”

“Do you feel pain anywhere?”

“My shoulders… my leg. Right side.”

“Alright. We’ll run a few more tests, but you’re stable for now. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was kind. Rehearsed.

Emilia turned her head slightly. Something lingered at the edge of her memory. A low growl. Eyes glowing. A shape, not quite human. She blinked it away.

Meanwhile,

Somewhere else in the city, Detective Nolan zipped his coat tighter as he stepped into the mangled remains of the vehicle. Wind hissed between trees. Flashing lights bathed the scene in red and blue.

“Let’s go over the statements again,” he said, eyes scanning every corner.

“One witness said they saw someone… with glowing eyes,” Martha replied, holding up a notepad. “I’ve requested CCTV from nearby stores.”

“Dashcam?”

“Destroyed,” she said. “And the memory card is missing.”

Nolan’s jaw tightened. “Anything else?”

Martha glanced around, then leaned in. “The fur.”

He nodded slowly, lips pressed tight. “Fur at a crash site, no animal in sight…”

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then he said it. “Changeling.”

Nolan’s jaw flexed. That word again. Always whispered. Always tangled up in cases like this, unsolved, unbelievable. Until now.