There was one school in Torma. Pack school. Ranging from Pre-K all the way to college. I’d never left this town—getting permission to leave was a mission in and of itself—and had attended pack school since the first grade.
I had exactly one friend to show for my many years stuck here.
“Hey, girl,” Simone called as I walked through the front gate, making my way up the garden-lined path.
“Hey, Sim,” I said, reaching her side in a second. “Still working on that braid, I see.”
Simone had fantastic hair; it was dead straight to her waist, thick, and so black, it almost looked blue in the sunlight. She loved to experiment with hairstyles, and for the last few weeks had been attempting to fishtail braid it. Attempting being the operative word.
Her expressive face screwed up into a tight knot of annoyance. “Why the fuck is it so hard?” She gestured to where most of the strands had already fallen loose. “I watch the videos online and those bitches braid to their ass in like five seconds, one-handed while filming it, for shifter’s sake. Bullshit, if you ask me.”
I snorted out some laughter, elegant as always. “Keep working at it. I definitely think you’re getting better.” White lies kept the world spinning, right?
She shot me an I know what you’re doing but thanks for being a great friend stare as we continued into the school. Whoever had built this monstrosity of a brick building in 1847, hadn’t thought much outside of practicality, because no one would design anything to be this ugly, squat, and depressing, unless it had just been the easiest style at the time. The only redeeming character was the wood-lined gardens, filled with flowers and herbs, that surrounded the perimeter.
Poor attempt to cover up the fact that it needed to be bulldozed and started again.
“I’m not sure I can stay here for another year.” Simone sighed, her dark brown eyes dropping dramatically. “I mean, is it even legal to stop us from traveling and meeting new people? I’m sick of all these assholes.”
She wasn’t the only one, but legal or not, we weren’t allowed to step foot outside Torma without permission. Leaving us stuck here, with the same shifters whom we’d grown up with. Shifters I hated.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up about leaving until you’ve shifted and learned to control the beast,” I said, repeating the cardinal rule while holding open the glass doors to the building for us to enter.
Personally, I wouldn’t be asking for permission, but Simone, unlike me, had good standing here thanks to her parents’ place in the pack: enforcers for the alpha.
She let out another exaggerated sigh. “True. But the moment that happens, we’re heading on an epic road trip. I already have it all planned out.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I would be long gone before that. Simone’s birthday wasn’t until January, so that meant she still had over a year until her first shift, missing this year’s winter solstice.
I couldn’t wait for her, and I wouldn’t ask her to be a lone wolf… Most of them turned mutt in the first few years, losing control of their beasts completely. Mutts were always put down by the packs, but it was a risk worth taking for me.
One way or another, I’d be put down whether I was mutt or not. It was just a matter of time, so why not give myself at least a fighting chance out in the real world?
“So,” Simone said, changing the subject rapidly, “your hair… I mean, we’re going to talk about it, right?”
Reaching up, I attempted to run a hand through the bird’s nest I had going on up top. “Shit, I forgot to brush it. Had to get out of the dumpster-house in a rush this morning.”
She examined me closer. “Look, normally, I don’t blink an eye, what with my own…” She waved a hand toward her “braid.” “But today is a new kind of interesting you’ve got going on.”
Dammit. There was a bathroom nearby, so I ducked inside with Simone following.
My hair was long and wavy, a stupid wave that wasn’t quite a curl but had enough definition to make it look constantly unruly. And it was red—the only redhead in the pack, to make blending in so freaking easy.
“You should let me cut it? Or Daphne,” Simone suggested unhelpfully.
Gritting my teeth, I shook my head. “You know I can’t waste fifty bucks on a cut.”
Pulling out the tie, I ran my fingers through it a few times. Simone stepped in to help as well, and eventually, we tamed it.
“The color is still the most stunning shade I’ve ever seen,” she said wistfully, tracing her fingers through a few loose strands.
It was an unusual color, that was for sure. A deep burgundy at the scalp, it lightened in an ombre effect to end up strawberry blonde on the tips. Subtle and natural—and weird as fuck.
Story of my life, really, being the freakshow of the pack. Thanks, Dad.
The sound of students filtered under the door, and as soon as a few juniors entered the bathroom, we bailed. I couldn’t stay in any enclosed space for too long or I’d end up with the crap beat out of me.
The hall was busy, so I put my head down and hugged the strap of my bag closer. “Did you get the assignment done?” I asked Simone, who was partially blocking me so we could maneuver through the shifter students.
She nodded and sighed simultaneously. “I want the twenty hours of my life back that I spent reading that shit, though,” she stated. “Like, it was worse than that one on the island where all the kids turned into feral assholes.”
I shuddered. “Hated that one, too. I’m starting to think I’m just not into anything with too much realism.”
She blinked at me. “You think that was realistic?”
“Kinda reminds me of how our pack is run,” I said, trying—and failing—to sound blasé.
Simone side-eyed me closely before giving a shake of her head. “I can’t even argue with you. It’s a dictatorship, but that’s how shifters don’t turn mutt. Wolves need a powerful alpha or we go rogue and our beasts take over.” Her face fell. “Not that I’d know, having to wait another damn year to shift.”
To say Simone was pissed about our first shift not being together was an understatement, but the Rule of First Shift had been passed from the original creator of our kind. The dark deity we worshipped.
Shadow Beast.
He’d set the shifter command and it couldn’t be overruled. Wolves had tried in the past, but no one had been successful in bringing on the change early. Call it wolf puberty, set in stone.
Maybe it was because we aged slowly and could live for a couple hundred years longer than humans. Or maybe the beast just liked the age of twenty-two.
No one had met the demon of our kind to ask him.
“I want it so bad,” Simone continued. “But I’m also freaking out about the pain. You know how bad it is when I break a nail, and this is like…”
“Breaking every bone?”
She shuddered. “Girl, could you at least attempt to sugarcoat it for me?”
I shrugged. “Pain doesn’t bother me like it used to. What I’m afraid of is not being able to bond with the wolf. What if she rejects me?”
Like every other person in my life. Yeah, I know, sob sob, we all had a sad story.
“She won’t,” Simone said forcefully. “She’s going to love you, and you’ll hunt rabbits, and it’ll be like having your second-best friend built in for life.”
No one was replacing Simone in best friend numero uno spot, apparently… not even an entity I shared a soul with.
“I’m almost positive I’ll have control by the third shift,” Simone added, shaking her shoulders in a confident little dance. “I’ve so got this.”
“I have no doubts at all,” I said, meaning every word.
The first two shifts were always a complete loss as the beast took over, our human side barely remembering anything at all. The majority had control by shift four or five, but I wouldn’t put it past Simone to have hers down by shift number three. She was that determined.
Either way for me, the second I had control of my wolf, I was escaping this fuck of a town.
And never looking back.
Just as we passed the main run of lockers for the seniors, a familiar group came into sight, easy to spot as students parted along the hallway for them like they were royalty.
I supposed they pretty much were.
Simone saw them at the same time as me. “Run!” she whispered harshly, shoving me toward the nearest exit. It was too late, though. They’d seen me, and I couldn’t outrun them. Especially not the two who had already turned: Torin Wolfe and Jaxson Heathcliffe.
Why the fuck were they even at college at all? They’d graduated last year, but for some insane reason, would not leave.
“Stay!”
The command came from Torin, future alpha of the Torma pack. His father, Victor, had ruled us for fifty years now with no sign of retiring. I mean, the fact that he’d changed their last name to Wolfe pretty much said everything one needed to know about how highly he regarded himself and his standing in the shifter world.
And Torin, the precious only son, was the future alpha. With this power, he could command wolves in the pack. Not that he generally needed any help in controlling them, especially the female shifters, thanks to his bright green eyes, chocolatey dark hair, and the sort of chiseled jaw that love stories were written about.
For me, though, he was a horror novel—my worst nightmare.
Two of the three approached now, and my stomach swirled as I prepared myself for what was to come. Torin’s command had been the one to stop me in my tracks, but today he hung back to let his friends have their fun. In truth, Torin had never really hurt me, but he didn’t stop the others either, and that was just as bad in my opinion.
Sisily Longeran, the alpha chick of my year, started to circle me. “Mera Callahan,” she drawled, “the redheaded bitch of our pack.”
She took great pleasure in pointing out on the regular that no one else had my shade of hair color. The rest of the pack fell somewhere between honey blond to the darkest of raven locks, with all shades of skin color included. I had tanned skin and hazel eyes, the same as many others, but my hair…
A giant fucking stop sign announcing my presence.
“Sisily Longeran,” I shot back, “the next alpha-mate. You and Torin are going to make such beautiful babies.”
Beautiful, evil little shits, but I refrained from mentioning that.
Sisily’s smile spread as she drifted closer to Torin. They did look great together, with her perfect mahogany mane and bright azure eyes so striking against his coloring.
The moment she first shifted, after the solstice moon, their expected bond would kick in, and they’d feel the connection. The mate bond was all pre-ordained. A magical fucking miracle.
I had a mate out there too, but if it was any of the assholes in my pack, I’d rather chew my own arm off.
Sisily, done flirting with the almost-alpha, returned back to me. Her jasmine and lemon myrtle perfume drifted with her, and I almost gagged. This was her signature scent from Thomas, the apothecary master, who handmade all of our skin products so we didn’t react to human chemicals. And I fucking hated it to the point that one whiff induced nausea.
At least it did usually give me a heads up that she was close by, so I could escape. Not today though.
She bared her teeth, chest rumbling, and knowing what was coming, I braced myself as she slammed me into the lockers. The entire row shuddered under the assault, and heat burned along my back. Shifters healed fast, but I wouldn’t have that ability until my beast was released, so for now, I got to suffer and heal almost humanly slow.
“You are pathetic,” she spat. “Weak.”
“You wish,” I replied, shooting her a dark smile of my own. What she called weak, I called staying the fuck alive until I could escape them. An entire pack versus one wolf? Yeah, who could win with those odds?
I had fought back at the start, but it only made the beatings worse. So now I chose to grow mentally and emotionally stronger, forged in a fire of their hatred, all the while biding my time until I’d be free.
“Leave her alone,” Simone shouted, unable to get to me; Torin was deliberately in her way.
“Simone, it’s cool,” I said, forcing myself to sound cheerful. “Sis here is super clumsy; I’m used to her tripping and falling into me.”
Sisily’s growls grew lower and more menacing, but I was beyond giving a shit.
“Stop it!” Simone tried again, and I really wished she wouldn’t. As I’d told her many times, there was no need for both of us to be a target. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her.
Thankfully, her parents’ position in the pack saved her from the worst of the bully behavior, but some still found small ways to punish her for having me as a friend.
Fucking loyal friend that she was; I barely deserved her.
“Shut it, Simone,” Sisily said without looking away from me. “Or you’ll join your half-breed mutt of a friend.”
“Half-breed and mutt,” I said with a forced laugh. “And last week, I was also a whore. I mean, my mom is super proud of me. Just so you know.”
Her hands formed into fists as she went in to break my nose again—signature move of hers—but she was stopped by Jaxson Heathcliffe.
My favorite tormentor.
My oldest friend outside of Simone.
Even if we were definitely more enemies these days.
“I thought I told you to give up coming to classes,” he drawled, leaning in close, his finger swiping across my cheek. It was a gentle motion, but the darkness brewing in his coffee-colored eyes spoke of something different.
A chirpy smile crossed my face. “Right? I mean, I tried that, but my teachers were all ‘you’re going to fail’ and ‘I’ve been looking for a red fur throw for my bed,’ so I decided maybe not showing up was a bad idea.”
Why. Was. I such. A smartass?
Honestly, this facet of my personality was going to get me straight up murdered. And I did not need any help in that department.
Jaxson crowded me into the lockers, and the burning in my back increased, but I didn’t make a sound. Leaning down, he ran his nose across my neck, scenting me. He’d never fucking done that before, and I wondered if this was the moment my father’s sins finally caught up to me and my throat got ripped out.
When he pulled away, his eyes flashed, and I swallowed down my next stupid comment, choosing instead to focus on his face. My expression was defiant because I would never back down to him. Never.
Jaxson was gorgeous, with brown skin, midnight black hair, and a long, lean body that hid none of his strength. It made sense that he was best friends with the future alpha. They had a similar look—the epitome of shifter males in both alpha-ness and good looks.
Personality wise, though, they were ugly, small-dick fucktards.
“My dad wanted to kill you and your mother,” Jaxson murmured, breath brushing over my cheek.
This was the first time I’d heard that, so I paid attention. My dad and his dad had been best friends, second- and third-in-line to the alpha, both powerful and confident men. Jaxson’s dad was the one who’d straight-up gutted mine, mere seconds after he’d attempted to take out Alpha Victor.
No questions. No trial.
“Why didn’t you leave college?” Jaxson pushed again. “The real reason?”
I shoved against him with all my strength, not moving him an inch. “What the fuck happened to you? We used to be friends!”
When your parents are best friends, it stands to reason you’ll grow up around each other. He’d been a big brother to me, but the moment my father had betrayed the pack, I’d lost everything.
The darkening of his eyes from coffee to tar was the only indication I had that this was going to be bad. His hand shifted to claws, swiping across my chest in one move. It cut through my shirt and bra, leaving large, red welts across my breasts, just short of breaking the skin. He’d done that deliberately; I’d never seen anyone with the control of Jaxson, and if he’d wanted to break the skin, he would have.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked quietly, forcing my face to remain calm even as pain pulsed against my chest, joining the pain in my back. “I’m not my father. Why are his sins mine to pay for?”
He swung his arm again, this time punching past my head, slamming it into a locker and smashing the metal in. “It’s your fucking face. I don’t want to see it.”
With one last scowl, he spun and left. Sisily, smiling like the smug bitch she was, hurried after him. Torin took an extra second, his eyes landing on my exposed breasts and the red lines from the claws.
“Best get yourself cleaned up,” he said shortly.
When they were gone, I sank back against the damaged locker, wincing as I did. My breathing was rapid as I fought for control, and if I had a beast inside me right now, I’d definitely be standing on four legs. Our wolves were a good escape from the pain and fear.
“Come on,” Simone said softly, tugging at my arm. “I have your extra clothes in my locker.”
She kept them because at least once a month, my locker was destroyed by some sort of disgusting prank. Trash, paint bomb, blood, guts, dead animals.
They weren’t creative, but they were consistent.
My head was ringing as I followed her, one hand clutching the front of my shirt to keep it together. As I walked, a familiar feeling filled my body. I thought of it as my brain distancing itself from the carnage of my life. Sometimes, when it got really bad, my vision doubled over as a darkness descended across it. A darkness that called me.
Fractured sanity was my thing these days.
“I have to leave Torma,” I murmured, mostly to myself.
Simone shot me a sympathetic stare, reaching out to grab my hand. She’d heard this from me before, but she didn’t understand how serious I was. I couldn’t do this any longer.
My family line was tainted in Torma.
My legacy, and that of any children I had, all but destroyed.
After decades running with the Torma pack, the Callahan name had been reduced to two shunned wolves: Mera Callahan, an almost-turned shifter, and Lucinda Callahan, a drunken she-wolf who barely remembered she had a family name.
Nothing worth fighting for any longer. Not here at least.
As far as I was concerned, the solstice full moon couldn’t arrive fast enough.
