第2章

The autumn wind in New York was warmer than the forests on pack lands.

I rented a tiny, run-down apartment near Columbia.

My roommate's name was Maya. A werewolf girl from a small western pack with bright, curious eyes.

The second she saw me, she threw her arms around me in a hug and exclaimed,

"Oh, thank god! I was so worried I’d be the only one of our kind here. What if I got found out? I’m so glad I met you."

The first week of school, I handled everything alone. Registration. Moving. Assembling secondhand furniture.

On my fourth day in the city, the pack’s family group chat finally lit up.

My mother, Isolde, had posted nine photos of the Royal Wolf Academy.

Gothic architecture and vaulted ceilings filled my screen.

My father, Alistair, immediately replied with a crown emoji.

【Aria’s dorm is a premium single, but the mattress is too hard. It will affect her spine.】 my mother complained in the chat.

【I've already arranged it.】 Dad replied instantly. 【A new custom luxury mattress will be air-freighted tomorrow. My heir must have the best.】

I stared at my phone.

Four days.

Hundreds of messages in the chat, and not a single one asking, "Cassian, did you make it?"

To them, I was invisible.

Maya munched on an apple as she watched me trying to fix a leaky pipe and asked,

"How come your family didn't come with you? You're moving to the human world. They're brave to just let you go alone."

I tightened the wrench, my voice flat, "They're busy."

Maya blinked, then slapped me on the shoulder,

"No worries! We're both in New York now. I've got your back!"

I glanced up at her.

It was the first decent thing anyone had said to me in days.

On the second weekend, I was on my usual ten-kilometer weighted run in Riverside Park.

Three miles in, a sharp, violent cramp seized my right leg.

I collapsed onto the pavement without warning. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt in an instant.

It was an old injury.

Normal werewolves have powerful healing. Even a broken bone can mend in hours.

But I'm not normal. When I shifted at ten, my wolf was damaged. My healing is less than half as fast as a regular wolf's.

At the Northern Trials, when I was thirteen, a rabid bear broke through the wards. It went straight for Aria, who was frozen in terror.

I was the one who tackled her out of the way.

The bear’s claws tore my right leg open, deep enough to see the bone.

When the medics arrived, Alistair and Isolde were clutching a perfectly fine, sobbing Aria, frantically checking if she was scared.

No one even looked at me.

I had to drag my mangled leg away, bite down on a scream, and tear off a piece of my own shirt to tie a tourniquet.

That gash, which had sliced into my meniscus, became a weakness that never fully healed.

A constant, nagging pain. Just like now.

In the campus sports medicine clinic, a human doctor gave me strong anti-inflammatories and strapped an ice pack to my knee.

The doctor frowned and said,

"Old meniscus injury, it's inflamed. You kids who love high-intensity trail running never take care of your joints. Do you need me to contact your family?"

I stared at the ceiling and said,

"No. They're busy."

My phone vibrated.

In the group chat, Isolde had sent a minute-long voice memo.

I played it. It was full of her dramatic warnings:

"Aria, your combat training is tomorrow. Make sure you wear your advanced protective gear. Don't get hurt, sweetheart. Mommy would be heartbroken."

I let out a cold laugh, switched out of the group chat, and opened my private chat with her.

The last message was still from five days ago:

【Did you send the necklace?!】

I limped out of the clinic, hobbling back to the apartment one painful step at a time.

When I opened the door, the rich smell of cooked meat hit me.

Maya burst out of the kitchen with a huge platter of sizzling steaks and announced,

"Eat! I got venison. We're werewolves! We have to eat meat!"

Looking at the plate, my throat tightened.

I didn't say thank you. I just dropped my head and ate until it was all gone.

Late October. The pack was celebrating the First Blood Hunt, one of the most important festivals of the year.

My phone was blowing up with photos of the lavish party.

Long tables overflowed with food.

In the center, a massive, prime stag.

【Celebrating Aria's first victory in the First Blood Hunt! The Alpha himself brought down this stag as her prize!】

my father proudly announced in the chat.

A flood of praise and congratulations followed.

I sat in my cramped New York apartment with a box of microwaved pasta that was starting to get gummy.

I swallowed a mouthful and dialed Isolde's number.

It rang for so long I thought she wouldn't pick up.

She answered, the background full of loud cheers and clinking glasses,

"Hello?"

My grip tightening on the phone, I said,

"Mom."

Isolde’s voice was sharp with annoyance,

"Cassian? Why are you calling now? We're all celebrating Aria. I'm very busy."

I started,

"My leg..."

She cut me off, speaking quickly,

"Is it about money? If you need more, I'll have the accountant wire some. That's all, Aria is about to cut the cake."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The call was over.

I stared at the black screen, and it suddenly felt so absurd.

What was I even expecting?

That they'd remember why my leg was scarred? Who it was for?

The door opened.

Maya rushed in, bringing a gust of cold autumn air with her. She held up a paper bag and said,

"The diner had a special! I got the last two cheeseburgers!"

She pressed a warm burger into my hand.

On the wrapper, someone had clumsily drawn a big smiley face in ketchup.

The heat of the burger seeped through the paper into my palm.

My eyes started to burn.

I took a huge bite. It was hot and filled my empty stomach.

I turned and looked out the window at the glittering lights of New York City.

Thanksgiving was in a few weeks. A seven-day break. I wasn't going home.