The Growl

"On my mark, get set—go!"

Before Coach Liaison even finishes the word, I launch forward, leaving behind a trail of dried grass and kicked-up sand. The plan is simple but brutal: sprint from the pack’s main building to a mahogany tree deep in the forest, retrieve the red cloth tied to its highest branch, and race back to Coach. Victory comes with bragging rights and respect, both of which I need more than anything right now.

The competition is fierce. I can already feel the thundering footsteps of my six opponents—well, five wolves and me. A quick glance behind confirms it: I’m the only one not in wolf form.

"Seriously?" I mutter under my breath. "One connection with your wolf, and you all abandon humanity? Who does that?"

My golden-brown hair whips around my face as I push myself harder. Beside me, Ken—already shifted into his wolf form—pulls ahead slightly, his dark brown fur sleek and shimmering in the sun. I catch the faint glint of his mischievous brown eyes as he throws me a smug look over his shoulder.

“Not so fast, Ken,” I growl, my competitive edge flaring.

Behind me, Kira closes in, her muddy brown fur a blur as she gains ground. She nips at my heels, the hot breath of her wolf brushing against my calves.

"Touch me with those filthy canines of yours, and I’ll pluck them out to use as bracelets," I snap, side-stepping her attack without losing momentum.

Kira snorts, clearly dismissing my threat, but I don’t care. I’ve got bigger problems. There are only two wolves capable of beating me in a race: Ken and Kira, the inseparable twins who’ve been my best friends since childhood. We’ve done everything together—school, training, even pranking the pack elders. But now, it’s every wolf for themselves, and I can’t let them win.

The problem? They’ve already shifted, and I haven’t.

At 18, most wolves are fully connected with their inner wolves, able to shift between forms with ease. But me? I’m what they call a late bloomer. My wolf is there—I can feel her growling inside me, her presence simmering just beneath the surface—but I can’t shift yet. It’s like trying to hold onto water: the harder I try, the more the connection slips away.

“You just need a little push,” Damien told me yesterday during training. Easy for him to say; he shifted perfectly on his 18th birthday. I’ve tried everything—meditation, running drills, even forcing the change during a sparring match—but nothing works.

Today, though, I don’t need to shift. I just need to win.

We’re nearing the forest now, the towering trees casting long shadows across the trail. This is where my plan comes into play. With a sharp whistle, I set it in motion.

Douglas, a gray wolf who isn’t even part of the race, suddenly veers into the path, colliding with David. The pale blue wolf stumbles, slamming headfirst into a tree and dropping out of the race.

One down.

A moment later, a golden retriever puppy darts into view, directly in Selena’s path. She skids to a halt, whining in distress. Selena loves puppies more than life itself—seriously, she once skipped training to rescue a stray—and can’t bring herself to ignore the little furball. Alfred, running too close behind her, doesn’t stop in time and crashes into her.

Two more down.

Douglas retreats into the shadows, his role complete. That leaves just me, Ken, and Kira.

'Madeline!' Kira growls through the mind-link, her voice sharp and accusing. 'What did you do to the others?'

I glance her way and catch the piercing glare of her amber eyes. Even in wolf form, her glares are deadly.

'Snookums!' Ken’s voice cuts in, lighthearted and teasing. 'You’re a genius! That was Douglas, wasn’t it? Let me guess: free burgers for a week?'

'Focus on the race, Ken,' I snap, refusing to let his taunts distract me.

Kira reaches the mahogany tree first. As I hoped, the red cloth is tied high on a branch, far out of reach for a wolf. She skids to a stop, her body trembling as she begins the process of shifting back to human form.

Ken arrives seconds later, also attempting the shift. Neither of them has mastered it yet—it’s not easy for newly awakened wolves—and their hesitation gives me the opening I need.

With a burst of speed, I leap onto Ken’s back, using him as a springboard to launch myself upward. My fingers brush against the cloth, and I yank it free. It rips in two, but that doesn’t matter; Coach never said the cloth had to be intact.

Just as I’m about to land, Kira slams into me.

The impact knocks me to the ground, my head slamming against a rock. Pain explodes in my skull, and for a moment, everything is blurry. I hear the faint growls and snarls of the twins fighting for the cloth, but the sound feels distant, like I’m underwater.

And then, something inside me snaps.

A deep, guttural growl erupts from my throat, so raw and primal it silences everything around me. Kira freezes, her ears flattening as she whines and backs away. Her tail tucks between her legs, and she lowers her head in submission. Even Ken hesitates, his human form frozen mid-step.

I don’t understand what’s happening, but I don’t have time to question it. My instincts take over, and I snatch the cloth from Kira’s paws. Ignoring the pounding in my head, I push myself to my feet and run.

Ken tries to tackle me, but I dodge him with ease, his naked form a blur in my peripheral vision. The forest blurs around me as I sprint back to the main building, every muscle in my body burning with exertion.

When I reach Coach Liaison, I drop the torn cloth at his feet and collapse onto the ground, panting.

"Why am I not surprised?" he mutters, his brown eyes narrowing as he examines me.

"You said 'by any means necessary,'" I remind him, struggling to catch my breath. As I speak, I feel my wolf retreat, the golden glow of my eyes fading back to their usual pale blue.

Coach sighs, running a hand through his sandy curls. "I suppose I did. And now, you owe Douglas five burgers."

Behind me, Douglas grins like a Cheshire cat. "Cafeteria’s that way," I tell him, patting his shoulder and handing him a few dollar notes. "Enjoy your prize."

Selena storms past, cradling the golden retriever. "Evil!" she declares, but the smile tugging at her lips tells me she’s not entirely mad.

Ken jogs over, shirtless but grinning. "Snookums, you amaze me. That strategy? Brilliant."

"Yeah, you were not smart enough to see it coming," I tease, shoving him away as he tries to hug me.

He smirks. "Feisty as always. It’s what I love about you."

"Idiot," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

The thought of what happened during the competition comes back—the growl. It comes up once in a while and it's a little confusing when it's only been recorded that only alphas possess that trait. Dad thinks it's just my wolf's way of showing her frustration for not being released yet. So I comfort myself with that thought.

As I approach the pack house, a sharp pain shoots through my stomach, doubling me over. I a tickling sensation between my legs.

Oh no.

Not now.

It’s the ninth of September.

"Not you again," I groan, clutching my abdomen as I stagger inside.