Stupid Haircuts

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

I'd had a crush on my brother's best friend, Ethan—the most powerful Alpha of our Northern Territory—since I was twelve years old. When I was fifteen, I boldly confessed my feelings to him. He laughed and patted my head, casually promising, "When you turn eighteen and shift, if you're my mate, I'll mark you." That offhand promise became my greatest hope for three years. I spent every day waiting for my wolf to awaken, praying to the Moon Goddess that she would designate us as mates. But on the night of my eighteenth birthday, after my wolf first awakened, I was shocked to discover that Ethan truly was my mate! Ignoring the intense shifting pain coursing through my body, I immediately shifted into my wolf form and ran toward Ethan's training grounds. I clutched the gift I'd prepared long ago, but instead heard Ethan urgently confessing to his Omega assistant Victoria: "Who would be stupid enough to actually care about a true mate? The bond between her and me is just the Moon Goddess's mistake. I only love you. I'll only mark you as my Luna." The words hit me like silver bullets to the chest. My wolf whimpered in pain, the mate bond burning like acid in my veins. I stood frozen behind the trees, watching the man I'd loved for six years dismiss our sacred connection as if it meant nothing. Later, Ethan introduced Victoria as his "fiancée." When Victoria demanded that I publicly bless their marking ceremony, Ethan remained completely indifferent to my humiliation. "Sylvia should give us her blessing," Victoria announced at the pack meeting, her voice sweet as poison. "After all, she's been like a little sister to Ethan all these years." Every wolf in the room could smell my distress. But Ethan said nothing, refusing to even look at me. When rogue wolves attacked our territory and I was surrounded, Ethan didn't hesitate to scoop up Victoria—who had only a tiny scratch on her finger—and carry her away to find the pack healer. He left me bleeding and alone, silver claws ha