Chapter 1 A MOONLESS NIGHT IN MANHATTAN

Manhattan was a frigid, unforgiving void tonight. The heavy, damp air clung to my skin like a shroud as I stepped off the bus in South Manhattan. I'm a fashion student at NYU-I should be worrying about hemlines and sketches-but instead, I was walking toward the one place I never wanted to see: Rainbow Hospital.

My fingers drummed a frantic, nervous rhythm on the reception desk. "Hello, I'm here for an appointment with Dr. Shepherd," I managed to say.

The receptionist looked up, her smile far too warm for a night this cold. "Just a moment, dear." She checked her screen and nodded. "Please go straight down the hall and turn into the last room on your left."

Every step felt like lead. When I entered the office, Dr. Shepherd was checking her watch, looking relieved. "Shireen, I'm glad you made it. I thought you might not come today."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," I said, my voice trembling. "I had an unexpected class." I pulled a chair toward her, my hands shaking so violently I had to grip the back of the seat just to keep from falling apart.

Her expression softened as she slid a document across the desk. My eyes stung with tears I refused to let fall. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and reached for the pen, but she stopped me. Her gaze was penetrating.

"Are you doing this of your own free will?"

I couldn't trust my voice, so I just nodded.

"You can still back out, you know," she said gently. "The person you're doing this for-the one who needs you to take this-is filled with more venom than you can imagine. Be careful, Shireen."

A shiver raced down my spine. Did I even have a choice? "I am doing this wholeheartedly, with complete sanity, Dr. Shepherd," I replied, my voice meek but firm.

"Please read the agreement, honey, before you sign."

The surgical room was sterile and terrifying. As I lay on the cold table, my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I have to do this, I whispered to the empty air, squeezing my eyes shut.

Then came the needle. It was a searing, sharp intrusion. I whimpered, and finally, the tears broke free. Mama, I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I love you and Papa, but there was no other way.

After the procedure, they made me rest for an hour. When I finally stood up, the hospital was eerily silent.

"Do you have someone to take you home?" Dr. Shepherd asked.

"My brother is waiting outside," I lied. I shook her hand and started the long, painful walk to the exit.

"Shireen, remember you need to rest!" she called out. I turned and forced a smile that felt like it was breaking my face.

The night was pitch-black. I hissed in pain with every movement, my body feeling heavy and clammy. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I'd been given a week ago. "Work done. Got the shot. Thank you," I said, hanging up before they could respond.

I waited at the bus stop for thirty minutes before the realization hit me like a physical blow. Nora had mentioned a city-wide curfew this morning-public transport was shut down due to the crime surge. I cursed my own stupidity. No buses. No Ubers. Just me, alone in a part of the city I didn't recognize.

I tried to find my way back, but the streets bled into a secluded, wooded area. This wasn't NYU territory. The air felt different here, heavy with the scent of an unfamiliar pack. I was lost.

Then I saw them. Four men, stumbling out of a nightclub, reeking of alcohol and malice. Fear washed over me, cold and paralyzing. I tried to run, but the anesthesia made my legs feel like water. I ducked behind an abandoned workshop, my heart thudding in my ears.

"She ran this way!" a voice rasped.

I trembled, my wolf instinct taking over for a split second before I peered around the corner. Their eyes were hungry.

"Got you, kitten," one snarled. "Damn, she's a shapeshifter."

"Much better for us, then."

They lunged. They forced me back into my human form, their hands like iron clamps on my limbs. "Please, let me go!" I screamed, but the night just watched. A rough hand slammed over my mouth, stifling my cries.

Between the exhaustion and the lingering drugs in my system, my vision began to swim. My eyelids fluttered, rolling back as the darkness reached for me. But then, a sudden, agonizing fire ripped through me-a pain far worse than any needle, an inferno that burned from the inside out. I AM RAPED.

The darkness didn't bring peace. It brought the end of everything. The silence that followed was louder than the screams.

I don't know how long I lay there on the frozen dirt. But when I woke up, my breath came in shallow, ragged hitches, puffing white against the black sky. I felt hollowed. They hadn't just taken my dignity, but the very marrow from my bones.

Get up, a voice in the back of my mind whispered. It sounded like some sort of celestial power that was bringing strength in me to fight the consequences. "Shireen, get up." This time the voice was louder as if she was right beside me.

I looked beside. Nobody there. My fingers twitched, brushing against the grit of the alley floor. Every muscle protested, a choir of agony screaming at me to stay down and let the cold finish what those men started. But the voice hitherto I heard was now powerful like a thundering echo. The weight of my sacrifice should not go for nothing.

I forced myself onto my elbows, a sharp cry catching in my throat. My body is a map of bruises and betrayal. With a shaking hand, I reached for my phone. The screen was cracked, a spiderweb of glass obscuring the time.

I managed to pull myself toward the brick wall of the workshop, using it to steady my ascent. The world tilted dangerously. I had to get out of this pack's territory. I had to find a way back to the girl who worried about fashion sketches and NYU deadlines, even though I knew, with a soul-crushing certainty, that she was gone.

The winter wind bit into my skin, but I welcomed it. The cold was the only thing that felt real.