CHAPTER 1: The Weight of Number 7

​The squeak of rubber soles against the polished hardwood was deafening, a sharp, rhythmic punctuation beneath the roar of a sold-out university arena. The scoreboard above the court flashed in bleeding red neon: 88-88.

​Seven seconds left on the clock.

​Jake felt the sweat slicking his forehead, stinging his eyes, but the heat radiating from his skin had nothing to do with exhaustion. Inside his chest, his wolf was pacing the cage of his ribs, scratching at the surface, demanding to break through. Every time his palms connected with the leather of the basketball, a surge of raw, dangerous energy rippled through his veins. His claws desperately wanted to extend.

​"Pass the ball, Jake! Don't be a damn hero!"

​The voice barked from his left, dripping with arrogance and forced authority. Cole.

​Cole was cutting through the paint, his eyes flashing a dangerous, predatory amber for a fraction of a second—a detail hidden from the thousands of human fans in the bleachers, but blindingly clear to Jake. Cole was the future Alpha of the rival Northern Ridge Pack, the son of his father’s sworn enemy, and, by some cruel twist of fate, the starting point guard of their university team. On the court, the jersey dictated they were brothers. In reality, they were two predators sharing a territory that was far too small.

​Jake didn’t pass.

​With a brutal crossover that left his defender stumbling on the hardwood, Jake drove inside. He pushed off the floor with a vertical leap that defied human biology, his muscles straining against the fabric of his sleeveless jersey, the bold Number 7 stretched across his broad chest. He slammed the ball through the iron rim with a force that made the entire backboard shudder just as the final buzzer echoed through the stadium.

​90-88. Win.

​The arena erupted. Students flooded the court, the cheerleaders shrieked his name, and his teammates threw themselves at him. But Jake couldn't breathe. The air felt too thick, too human. As his feet hit the ground, his gaze locked instantly with Cole's.

​Cole wasn't celebrating. He wiped the sweat from his blonde hair, his blue eyes icy and sharp as he stepped into Jake’s personal space, his chest heaving.

​"Nice shot, golden boy," Cole murmured, his voice dropped to a frequency only Jake’s Lycan hearing could catch over the deafening crowd. "But enjoy the court while you can, future Alpha. You can jump as high as you want, but you’re still trapped in your father's cage. The Crescent Pack expects its true king by the next full moon. If you don't take the mantle, someone else will claim your lands."

​"Shut your mouth, Cole," Jake growled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, dangerously low and primal. His green eyes flashed a dark, warning emerald.

​Without waiting for the MVP presentation, Jake shoved his way through the chaos of the court. He ignored the coaches, ripped open the back doors of the locker room facility, and burst out into the dark, secluded alleyway behind the stadium.

​He needed isolation. His wolf was thrashing, suffocating under the pressure of the impending Ascension. Just as he stepped into the shadows, the sky finally broke.

​A sudden, freezing rain began to pour, heavy drops cloaking the night. The icy water slammed directly onto Jake’s overheated, burning skin. The contrast was electric. Steam practically rose from his bare shoulders as the freezing droplets rolled down the tight contours of his chest and the muscles of his arms, but the cold did nothing to cool the Lycan blood boiling in his veins.

​Right then, the phone in his gym bag vibrated violently. He pulled it out. The caller ID made his blood run cold: Father.

​The anger that had been simmering all evening boiled over. Instead of answering, Jake let out a raw roar of frustration. He grabbed a heavy metal folding chair left by the maintenance doors and hurled it across the alleyway. The chair slammed into the brick wall with a deafening metallic screech, buckling completely into a twisted mess of steel before clattering to the wet asphalt.

​"Damn it all!" he shouted into the night, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. He raised his foot, ready to kick the next structure in sight.

​"You know... university property didn't really do anything to deserve that."

​A voice cut through the dark. It was clear, steady, and entirely, undeniably human.

​Jake spun around, his instincts instantly locking into a defensive stance, his sharp eyes piercing the shadows and the sheets of falling water.

​Standing beneath the flickering yellow glow of a broken streetlamp was a girl. She was holding a stack of heavy textbooks tightly against her chest, practically swallowed whole by an oversized, worn-out hoodie. Her dirty blonde hair was rapidly soaking from the storm, framing a soft, strikingly beautiful face.

​It was Avery.

​As her deep blue eyes met his, the frantic, violent storm inside Jake’s chest abruptly ceased. The wolf that had been ready to tear the alley apart suddenly went dead silent, whimpering softly in a way Jake had never heard before. A sudden, violent electric spark shot straight down his spine, making every hair on his arms stand up.

​A human? Jake thought, his mind racing as he subtly inhaled, trying to catch her scent through the downpour. But there was no wolf, no pack signature. All his senses picked up was the smell of rain, old paper, and fresh cotton. Why is my wolf reacting like this to a human girl?

​"Are you okay?" Avery asked quietly. She took a small, cautious step forward, her intense blue gaze searching his face with a strange, hidden weight that contradicted her fragile appearance.

​Jake stared at her, completely captivated by an unexplainable, magnetic aura radiating from her very presence. He had no idea that the girl standing before him, looking so innocent and lost in the freezing rain, was the most lethal threat to his freedom.

​And the only reason his heart would ever beat again.