A THRONE OF SHADOW AND SOULMATES

"Hey! You're gonna drown out there!"

I heard a voice cut through the rain

I stopped mid-stride, water splashing up my jeans. The storm had turned my school

quad into a sea of puddles, lightning slicing the sky above the old stone buildings. I could feel the wind so cold with the rain drips and my hair clung to my face as I spun toward the sound.

Under a drooping oak tree stood a guy leaning against a sleek black sports car, the kind that didn't belong anywhere near student housing. He looked like he'd stepped out of another world, too composed for the chaos around him.

Derek Clawson.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his storm-dark hair slicked to his head. Even through the rain, I could see it - his eyes, faintly red. The first flash I dismissed as lightning. The second one made my pulse jump.

I clutched my folder of mythology notes tighter, though most of the pages had already turned to pulp. "I'm fine!" I shouted over the thunder.

"Not everyone needs a shiny car to survive a drizzle."

Derek's grin cut through the rain like light through smoke. "Fiery. I like it. Are you always this friendly, or just with me?" It was obvious that he said this Sarcastically.

Trust me I definitely shot back

"Are you always this annoying, or just with girls who have better things to do?"

He turned off the car and started toward me, moving slowly and deliberately.

"I've seen you in mythology class," he said, voice dropping just enough to make me hear it over the rain.

"You write like the world's ending." Flirty right well

My chest tightened not because of his words, but because he'd noticed me at all, but I had to act cool I didn't let him know how nervous I was that he even noticed I existed.

"What's your deal, Clawson? You stalk everyone or just me?"

He laughed, the sound low and rough. "Only the ones who stand out." Gosh he's too flirty

Cold rain trickled down my neck, but heat bloomed in my cheeks.

I turned away. "Save it. I don't fall for wolf-in-leather types."

"Wolf?" he echoed with a smirk I couldn't see. "Interesting choice of words."

My mother's voice echoed in my mind, soft and casual from the night before.

"Your dad and I are heading to the forest, little pie. Back soon." In case you don't know I'm the little pie, it's just a pet name my mother calls me

My mother had married into that secret world - werewolves hiding behind human faces, but unfortunately I had been born on the border of both. Too human for the pack, too strange for everyone else.

Lost in thought, I didn't see the car until its bumper clipped my leg.

The impact spun me sideways. My folder flew open, papers and sketches scattering like feathers. Ink bled into the puddles, my work dissolving into a watercolor blur.

The car screeched to a stop.

My body hit the pavement, palms stinging, rain hammering my back. For a few seconds, all I could hear was the storm and her own heartbeat. Then the driver's door opened.

Derek.

He was out of the car and running toward me, eyes glowing brighter-red, unmistakable now. For a split second, I could swear I saw claws flex at his fingertips. Then they were gone.

"You okay?"

He said, voice cutting through the downpour. "I didn't see you-rain's crazy."

He reached for my hand. For an instant, I almost let him. Then instinct - something old and sharp - screamed no.

"I'm fine," I said, shoving myself up. "Just try not to run over people next time."

His jaw tightened. Most girls giggled or flirted when Derek Clawson looked at them.honestly I was not feeling it what the other girls felt then I snapped back. And that made me an interesting target .

He crouched beside me. "Let me fix this," he said softly. "I'll replace what you lost."

I grabbed one of my ruined essays, crumpled and soaked. "Keep your guilt money.

Drive better."

We both reached for the same page - a sketch of a golden wolf. Our fingers brushed.

Zap.

A jolt shot through my hand, up my arm - not pain, not electricity, but heat, raw and alive.

My breath caught. Derek froze too, eyes wide, the same shock mirrored there. For a moment, the world was nothing but rain, thunder, and the strange hum between them.

"Derek! What's taking so long?"

The voice cut through everything. Sharp, annoyed, perfect.

Joanna Linfield. Her dark hair, untouched by rain, her heels clicking against the wet pavement as if the storm itself obeyed her.

Her gaze landed on me - soaked, scraped, clutching my ruined notes - and her smirk deepened.

"Oh. So this is what's keeping you."

"Back off, Joanna," Derek muttered without looking at her.

I stood, gathering what was left of my papers. The spark still burned under my skin, wild and confusing. "I'm fine," I said stiffly. "Next time, try headlights."

As I turned to leave.

"Wait," Derek called. His tone had changed - lower, commanding. Even the rain seemed to hesitate.

I stopped. Slowly turned.

"What's your name?" he asked.

For a second, I considered lying. Then, for some reason I couldn't explain, I didn't.

"Skye."

And boom I was gone, running into the storm before he could say anything else.

Derek stood there, rain pouring over him, my name echoing in his mind. Skye. It fit - wild, unpredictable, untouchable.

Joanna folded her arms. "Forget her. She's nobody. A broke scholarship girl who doesn't know her place."

He barely heard her. The energy he'd felt - that spark - wasn't human. It was wolf magic. Ancient. Rare.

A low growl built in his chest, swallowed by thunder.

Somewhere beyond the university walls, a wolf's howl answered.

He'd come to Northbridge to escape the pack - the expectations, the training, his father's shadow.

I stumbled into her dorm, dripping wet, hair plastered to my neck.

I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breath coming hard.

My reflection in the mirror caught me off guard - pale face, wide eyes, and a faint golden glow pulsing where blue should've been.

"Great," I muttered. "Now I'm hallucinating."

I peeled off my hoodie and tossed it aside, glancing at the desk where my ruined notes lay.

The golden wolf I sketched shimmered faintly beneath the lamplight, the ink spreading into something that looked almost alive.

My phone buzzed. A text from Mom.

Made it to the forest. All good, little pie. Love you.

My chest tightened. I wanted to reply - to ask what was really going on out there - I she didn't. Instead, I sat on my bed and stared out the window, where thunder rolled and lightning carved the sky in half.

Somewhere distant, a wolf howled.

I looked back at my reflection. The glow in my eyes didn't fade. It pulsed - faint, then stronger, like something ancient remembering itself.

"This isn't the end of the storm, the wind howled harder. The sound wasn't just weather anymore. It was a call.

And deep down, I knew - this was only the beginning.

The lecture hall for Advanced Mythology was the noisiest in the whole school

I sat near the back, my bandaged palm throbbing under a flimsy strip of gauze. The sting wasn't just from the scrape, it carried the weight of yesterday's crash, the car, and that electric jolt from Derek's touch.

I tried to focus on my new notes, scribbled in a rush that morning, but the words swam.

The Mega Alpha: a mythic wolf with the strength of all packs, rising in times of chaos, born from spilled blood.

The myth felt too close today, like a shadow creeping into my reality.

A hush rolled through the room, starting at the door and spreading like wildfire.

I didn't need to look up.I felt him. The air shifted, heavy and charged, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

Derek Clawson had entered.

He stood at the entrance, scanning the rows. His black t-shirt and jeans were simple, but he carried himself like he owned the place.

His crimson eyes, sharp and unnatural, cut through the crowd's stares and whispers.

He moved down the steps, fluid and sure, ignoring empty seats until he reached my row. Without a word, he slid into the chair beside me, shrinking the space around them.

His scent hit, sandalwood, and something wild, like a forest after a storm.

"Skye," he said,my name a low, deliberate note.

I kept my eyes on my notebook, my heart pounding. Trying to keep my cool and show how uninterested I am I responded

"What, looking for another target to mow down?"

A soft chuckle rumbled from him, warm and disarming. "Brought you something." He set a sleek leather bound notebook on my desk, its quality screaming money.

Next to it, a steaming coffee from the campus's fanciest café, its rich aroma a far cry from my usual cheap brew.

"I don't want your stuff," I said, voice tight. I risked a glance at him and regretted it.

Up close, he was overwhelming-sharp jaw, a faint scar slicing his eyebrow, and those red eyes that seemed to peel back my defenses.

Now I get why all those girls can't get over him

"Not a bribe. An apology." His gaze flicked to my bandaged hand. "A real one. How's the hand?"

"Fine."

My cheeks warmed as I looked away.

The professor stepped in and started droning about Greek Titans, but the words were noise.

Derek's presence drowned out everything.

"Just so you know," he murmured, voice low and private, "most people say 'thanks' when someone checks on them."

"Just so you know," I fired back, matching his tone, "most people don't check on you after slamming you with their car."

His lips twitched into a real smile, small but electric, turning his brutal good looks into something magnetic. "You're not most people, are you?"

He didn't speak again during the lecture, but his presence was a pulse beside me. He didn't take notes, just watched the professor, though his eyes flicked to me now and then. Each glance felt like a touch, sending my nerves into overdrive.

The fifty minutes dragged, every shift of his arm, every breath, making me hyper aware of his size, his heat.

When class ended, I grabbed my things, desperate to bolt.

"I'll walk you to your next class," Derek said, standing to his full height, towering and unshakable.

"Not necessary."

"I insist."

They stepped into the hall together, and the stares hit like a wave.

Not just for him-for them. Skye, the quiet scholarship girl, beside Derek Clawson, campus royalty.

Whispers followed, hungry for gossip.

He matched my pace, his long strides easing to fit mine.

"So, Skye. What's your deal?"

"No deal. I go to class, study, go home."

"Home's where?"

"None of your business."

He laughed, a real, startled sound that turned heads. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

"Should I be?"

His smile faded, replaced by a look that was halfcurious, halfdark.

"Yeah," he said, voice low and serious. "Most people should."

Before I could unpack that, a syrupy voice cut in.

"Derek! There you are. I've been searching everywhere."

Joanna appeared, arm looping through his like she owned him.

Flanked by her friends Chloe and Isabelle, she was a vision of polished beauty, her eyes glinting with malice as they fixed on me.

"Oh, it's you," Joanna said, her smile sharp as glass. "Still hobbling?

Or is that just how you walk? Heard you took a nasty spill yesterday.

" Her friends giggled, sharp and mean.

My face burned, but she stood tall. "I'm fine, thanks."

Derek's body tensed. He pulled his arm free, slow and deliberate. "What do you want, Joanna?"

"Just reminding you about the Sigma party tonight." She leaned closer, voice syrupy. "You're my date, remember?"

"Not going," Derek said, eyes still on me,

Now that's the attention I don't need.

Joanna blinked, her perfect mask cracking. "What? You promised. We always go together."

"Changed my mind." His tone was steel, final. He turned to her, and I saw raw power in his gaze-commanding, untouchable.

Joanna's face paled, her social throne crumbling in public. Her eyes darted from Derek to me,

blazing with fury.

"I hope she has nothing to do with this?

She spat the word "she" like poison.

"This plain, nobody human? What, you slumming it now?"

The word "human" hit me like a slap, too sharp, too knowing. It wasn't just an insult-it felt like a blade aimed at my core.

Derek stepped forward, his presence swelling, the air turning cold.

"Watch your words, Joanna," he said, voice a deadly whisper. "Apologize. Now."

Joanna froze, tears of rage in her eyes. She looked at me, lips trembling, but no apology came.

With a choked sob, she spun and fled, her friends scrambling after her.

The hall went quiet, students pretending they hadn't seen the drama unfold.

I stared at Derek, mind spinning.

He'd just torched his relationship with Northridge queen for her-a girl he barely knew.

It was reckless, terrifying.

"Why'd you do that?" I whispered.

"She disrespected you," he said, like it was obvious. "I don't let that slide."

His phone buzzed, sharp and insistent. He pulled it out, and his face shifted-tensed, jaw tight. The text was short, from a blocked number:

The forest is hungry. Come now. Don't be late.

"I gotta go," he said, all warmth gone.

"Something's up."

He looked at me, and for a moment, I saw something raw in his eyes-not the confident campus king, but a boy carrying a weight too heavy to name.

The boy who'd warned her to be afraid.

"You here tomorrow?" he asked.

I nodded, words stuck in my throat.

"Good." He reached out, his fingers brushing a damp strand of hair from my cheek.

The touch was brief, but that electric spark flared again, softer but real.

A promise.

Then he was gone, striding through the crowd, students parting like water.

I stood alone, the hallway buzzing around me.

My skin tingled where he'd touched me, his scent-forest and storm-lingering.

In five minutes, he'd defended me, claimed my attention, and vanished.

The coffee he'd left sat warm in my hand, a small anchor in the chaos.

I was in deep, uncharted waters.

But as I headed to my next class, my phone vibrated. My roommate messaged but i hadn't recovered from Derek's touch yet

My dorm was a small, cluttered sanctuary, books and notes spilling across my desk.

I dropped my bag and sank onto my bed, the coffee from Derek still in my hand. Too rattled to decide if it was a peace offering or something more.

Her bandaged palm ached, a reminder of yesterday's crash and that impossible spark.

I closed her eyes, trying to shake the image of Derek's crimson eyes, but they followed me into the dark.

My parents' world had always been a mystery, half told in bedtime stories and coded phone calls.

Werewolves, pack laws, ancient feuds-things my mom shared with a smile, but never the full truth.

I was human, an outsider, loved but separate.

I opened my laptop, pulling up my Mythology notes.

The Mega Alpha stared back at me, its lore woven with blood and chaos. I always thought it was just a story, a myth to study.

But Derek's eyes, that jolt

A knock at the door jolted me.

"Skye? You in there?" It was Mia, my clumsy roommate, a bubbly art major who always seemed to know the campus gossip.

"Yeah, come in," Skye called.

Mia burst in, eyes wide.

"Girl, spill. I heard you were walking with Derek Clawson today. Like, the Derek Clawson. And he embarrassed Joanna? For you?"

I groaned, setting the coffee down.

"It's not like that. He just... sat next to me in class."

"Sat next to you, bought you coffee, and publicly torched Joanna's ego," Mia said, flopping onto the bed.

"That's not nothing. The whole campus is buzzing. You're, like, famous now."

"I don't want to be famous,". "I just want to get through my classes."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. Derek doesn't just notice people.

He's... intense. And those eyes? Freaky, but hot. You're in trouble, Skye."

I didn't answer. I didn't need Mia to tell me I was in trouble. I felt it, like a storm brewing just out of sight.

The drive home from Northbridge stretched endlessly, each mile heavy with silence.

Skye gripped the steering wheel, her thoughts a tangle of Derek's crimson eyes, the electric shock of his touch, and the way he'd cut Joanna down with a few sharp words. But her father's text loomed larger, its words like a cold blade: The forests are restless. Her mom's voice echoed in her head, using that phrase when pack tensions simmered, when the wild world pressed too close to their quiet life. Delayed. The word sat like ice in her gut.

She pulled into the driveway of their modest twostory house, a world away from the glossy wealth Derek swam in. This was her haven-her mom's herbscented kitchen, her dad's steady presence. But today, the house felt brittle, like it might shatter under the weight of what was coming.

Inside, she found her dad in his study, standing at the bay window, staring at the dark forest beyond. Dane Garrick's broad shoulders, usually squared with an alpha's strength, slumped under an invisible burden. His reflection in the glass showed deep lines carved into his face, his graying beard stark against the gloom.

"You're home," he said, voice rough like gravel. He didn't turn.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Skye dropped her bag by the door, the leather notebook from Derek heavy inside it, like a secret she wasn't ready to face. "Your text sounded bad. Where's Mom? What's 'delayed' mean?"

He turned, and the grief in his gray eyes hit her like a physical blow. It was raw, alive, stealing the air from the room. This wasn't about restless forests. This was worse.

"Your mom..." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat, forcing control. He picked up a small wooden wolf from his desk, a gift from her mom, his fingers tracing its edges. "Kaida insisted on coming with me. A scouting mission. To find safer land for the pack."

Skye's heart dropped. "Why? What's wrong with our territory?" The howl she'd heard after meeting Derek flashed in her mind, sharp and ominous.

"The Red Pack's growing stronger," Dane said, his fists clenching, the carved wolf fragile in his grip. "They're not just fighting for control anymore. They're forcing wolves to join them, using some twisted purification rite. Their numbers are swelling. We're peacekeepers, Skye, not warriors. Our best shot is to find new land, somewhere safe to regroup." His gaze drifted, lost in memory. "She wouldn't stay behind. You know her-those fierce eyes, that stubborn spark. I could never say no."

Cold dread coiled in Skye's stomach, sharp and separate from her confusion over Derek. "Where is she, Dad? When's she coming back?"

He stared at the floor, the silence louder than any answer. His face was a man's whose world had collapsed.

"Dad?" Her voice was a whisper, fear roaring in her ears. "Where's Mom?"

Deep in the forest, where trees choked out the sun, the air was thick with earth, pine, and the faint tang of blood. The Red Pack's training ground was chaos-young warriors with glowing crimson and amber eyes clashed in brutal sparring, snarls and thuds echoing through the clearing. This was Derek's world, forged in sweat and violence.

At the center stood Damon Clawson, a towering figure whose presence drained the warmth from the air. His red eyes burned, scars mapping his face and arms like a history of war. He watched the training with a predator's focus, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"You're late," Damon said, not looking at Derek. His voice was like stones grinding together.

"Was at the university," Derek said, keeping his tone even. Skye's golden eyes flashed in his mind, a shield against his father's weight.

Damon's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Playing human. A waste of time. Your place is here. Strength is here. Power is here." He turned, his gaze a physical force. "The White Wolf is weak, running like a coward with his pack. Now's our chance to strike. But you-" He sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. "You reek of city streets and human softness."

Anger flared in Derek's chest, hot and familiar. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Are you?" Damon stepped closer, his scent-old blood and dominance-overwhelming the forest. "Your head's with that human girl you're chasing."

Derek froze. How did he know? A chill ran through him. His father's spies were everywhere, even on campus. The thought was a violation, a leash he couldn't shake.

"She's nothing," Derek lied, the words bitter. Skye's defiance was a light in the dark of this place.

"Keep it that way," Damon growled, his face inches from Derek's. "Feelings make you weak. They rot you, slow you down. They're the White Pack's disease, and I won't have it in my blood." He waved his hands and pointed at the other wolves training. "Kael, Roric, Jax, Silas! Your alphaintraining needs a lesson in power."

Four massive warriors stepped forward, eyes glinting with hunger and fear. Four against one. Damon's favorite way to break him.

The fight wasn't fair-it was a punishment. Derek was fast, strong, but against four seasoned wolves, it was a grind. Fists slammed into his ribs, his jaw, his back. Blood filled his mouth, sharp and metallic. He fought back, claws flashing, fury fueling him. He sent Silas crashing into a tree with a crack, but the others pounced, driving him to his knees.

"Pathetic!" Damon roared, his voice cutting deeper than any blow. "Get up! I didn't raise a weakling! You're the next Alpha! Act like it!"

Derek staggered to his feet, body screaming. His father's eyes were a tyrant's, not a teacher's. But Skye's face-her unimpressed glare, her fire-flashed in his mind. Not weakness, but strength. Something worth fighting for.

With a raw roar, he threw himself back into the fray, moves sharper, fueled by defiance. He wouldn't break. Not today.

Back in the study, Dane faced Skye, his eyes a storm of grief. The truth hung between them, too heavy to bear.

"We were ambushed," he said, voice breaking like glass. "The Red Pack. Damon was there."

Skye's hands flew to her mouth, a gasp escaping. "No..."

"He turned the warriors with me," Dane said, hollow. "That forced purification-it broke their minds, made them his. And Kaida..." He gripped the wooden wolf, knuckles white. "She stood her ground. Braver than any of us. Damon looked at me and drove his claws into her chest. A warning."

Tears burned Skye's face, silent and hot. Her mom-vibrant, stubborn, human-gone. Delayed was a lie, a cruel shield now shattered.

"He didn't know she was human," Dane said, a bitter laugh choking him. "Thought she was just the White Pack's Luna. His 'warning' was murder."

Skye stumbled forward, and Dane caught her in a fierce hug. They clung to each other, two broken pieces in a silent house, the loss screaming louder than words.

"I'll make him pay," Dane vowed, his voice hardening to steel. "I'll rally the Alphas. We'll end Damon."

The words should've been a comfort, a promise of justice. But Skye felt only fear. A war was coming, and her dad was charging into it, fueled by rage.

As she sobbed into his shoulder, two faces haunted her: her mom's warm smile and Derek's crimson eyes. The son of the monster who'd destroyed her family.

It was too cruel to be chance.

The world she'd known and the one she was stepping into were colliding.

And she was caught in the explosion.

Skye sat on her bed later, the house too quiet, the wooden wolf now on her nightstand. Her mom's absence was a void, swallowing everything. She stared at Derek's notebook, untouched in her bag. It felt like a tether to him, to that spark she couldn't shake. But now, knowing who his father was, it burned.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Mia: Heard about the Derek drama. You okay? Campus is WILD. Skye didn't reply. She couldn't explain the storm inside her-grief, anger, and something dangerous tied to Derek.

She opened her laptop, pulling up her Mythology notes. The Mega Alpha stared back, its lore steeped in blood and chaos. It had always been a story, a puzzle to solve. Now, with her mom gone and Derek's father a murderer, it felt like a warning.

Across town, Derek stood at the edge of the forest, blood drying on his knuckles. The fight had ended, his body bruised but unbroken. His father's words echoed-weakness, power, Alpha-but Skye's face drowned them out. She wasn't just a girl. She was a spark, a challenge, a piece of something bigger.

Another howl rose from the trees, sharp and urgent. The pack was restless, and Damon's plans were moving. Derek's world was closing in, and Skye was at its heart, whether he wanted it or not.