Cinderella among the wolves

I was the wolf-shifter Cinderella.

No joke.

First reason? Tonight was the Wolf Moon Mixer-a grand event where the three most prominent packs of Europe paraded their most eligible, unmated wolves. It was like a supernatural singles market. Our alpha was hosting this year, but me? I didn't even qualify to serve drinks.

Instead, I'd been assigned to scrub the visitors' lodge from top to bottom. That's what you get when you're lower than an omega in the pack hierarchy-so low you're practically invisible unless someone needs a mop.

I pulled the mop out of the bucket, dumped the grimy water down the toilet, and flushed. After shoving the cleaning supplies back into their cupboard, I wiped my brow on the sleeve of my overalls and surveyed the bathroom.

The marble surfaces gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the frosted window. Gold taps sparkled, and the jacuzzi-large enough for eight-looked pristine. The whole room practically glowed.

All that without a single Disney song or a crew of singing critters. Take that, Cinderella.

But my fairytale didn't include a ball, a prince, or even a pumpkin carriage. No, it came with laughter-male, raucous, and irritating as hell-from the suite's living area. The second reason I was the shifter Cinderella? If Cinderella had her ugly stepsisters, I had the Ember twins.

I pushed the bathroom door open and stepped into the living area I'd spent the morning scrubbing spotless. There they were, Fangley and Clawley, sprawled across the plush sofas, glued to a documentary about Scandinavian shamans.

"Hey!" I clapped my hands loudly. "We've got a list of chores to finish before noon!"

Fangley barely spared me a glance, shooting a lazy glare before turning back to the screen.

I felt my jaw tighten. Of the two, Fangley was supposedly the responsible one, but when they were together, their combined laziness was unmatched.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a pair of boxers-crumpled, stained, and definitely not mine. I held them up. "Which one of you idiots left this in the bathroom I just cleaned?"

Fangley flicked a glance at Clawley, who snickered but didn't bother answering. Instead, he grabbed the remote and cranked up the TV volume. On-screen, some guy sliced open a bird's belly, examining its entrails.

I clenched my fists. "Of all the times to slack off, why now? The alpha's trying to make a good impression!"

"Ayla ," Fangley drawled, not even looking at me, "why ask a question when you already know the answer?"

"Beowulf can kiss my ass," Clawley muttered, stretching and plopping his feet onto the coffee table. "We stocked the bars, unloaded the kegs, and set up the grill. That's our share done."

"Now fetch us beers," Fangley added, not missing a beat.

I stormed over to the TV, following the power cord with my eyes until it disappeared behind the cabinet. "Your 'share' was half-assed at best," I snapped. "Frida said one of you was supposed to help me with the rooms."

Frida, our self-appointed head housekeeper, avoided physical labor like it might bite her. She gave orders from the sidelines, wielding her title like a whip.

Clawley belched and ran a hand through his scraggly hair. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Fangley waved a dismissive hand. "Unless you want all three of us punished, get to work."

Oh, hell no.

I stormed toward the power cable, my lips pressed into a tight line. Of all the people I could've been stuck with, the pack administrator just had to assign me to work with the Ember twins-a pair of arrogant bastards whose father had killed mine.

Pack history was a tangled mess, and mine was at the center of it. My dad had been the alpha for years, leading with strength and fairness, until the Ember twins' father challenged him. He didn't just take my father's title-he took his life. Alpha Ember ruled with cruelty, and for years, he kept his grip on the pack.

Then, a few years ago, Beowulf showed up. A young, ambitious wolf with something to prove, he came out of nowhere and took Alpha Ember down in a fair fight. The pack needed a new leader, and Beowulf seized the throne.

You'd think that would've been the end of the Embers, but being the children of a defeated alpha is one of the worst fates in pack politics. No one respects you, and the power your family once wielded vanishes overnight.

Under Alpha Ember, my mom and I had been shoved to the bottom of the pack, treated like dirt. Meanwhile, the twins, drunk on their father's power, made my life hell at the academy. They tormented me for sport, always reminding me how untouchable they were.

Now? Their dad was dead, their family disgraced, and they'd been stripped of their status. They were omegas.

But even with their fall from grace, they still outranked me and my mom. That's how it worked in the pack-there was always someone lower.

And lucky me, that someone was us.

I yanked the power cord from the socket, plunging the room into silence as the screen went black mid-bird-dissection.

Both twins turned to glare at me, their annoyance in perfect synchronization.

"Listen up," I said, crossing my arms. "We've got one more room to finish. If we all pitch in, we can be done before anyone arrives-"

"Did you not hear my brother?" Fangley growled, standing. His voice was low and sharp, the remnants of his old arrogance still intact. "Beowulf can call us omegas, strip our rank, but I'll be damned if we help him curry favor with other packs."

"And cleaning's for weasel shifters," Clawley added, sneering, "or those who live with them."

I stiffened. "Neither of you would have the guts to say that to his face."

The twins rose in unison, their movements menacingly smooth. Their posturing was familiar-a throwback to our academy days when they'd bullied me relentlessly.

But times had changed. They weren't the all-powerful tyrants they used to be. Their father's defeat had knocked them down the hierarchy, just as mine had left me at rock bottom. Yet somehow, they still acted like they were better than me.

Not today.

I pulled my shoulders back, clenched my teeth, and tightened my fists at my sides. What could the twins possibly do to me that I hadn't already endured? Punches, kicks, scratches, whippings, spit, humiliation-been there, done that. Pain didn't scare me anymore. It faded, wounds healed. Respect, though? Once lost, it was gone forever. I wasn't about to let those two bastards lounge around while I did all the work.

Fangley and Clawley stood in front of me, arms crossed, a wall of muscle blocking my path. Fangley on the left, Clawley on the right. My throat went dry, but I didn't step back. Even if one of them lashed out, I'd hold my ground.

"You could never keep your mouth shut," Clawley snarled, baring his teeth.

My pulse quickened. Those words-they'd been his favorite prelude before slamming my head into a locker back at the academy. They always came right before the beatings that left me bruised for days.

I took a deep breath, forcing calm into my voice. "Ah, the golden days. Nostalgia's cute and all, but we've still got work to finish."

"Cleaning toilets is an insult," Fangley spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "We're not omega scum."

I let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking my head. "Oh, yeah? When your dad killed mine to become alpha, and you two reminded me of it every damn day, I felt the same. But newsflash: dodging your duties won't magically restore your status."

Fangley's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into something between a sneer and a smirk. "But we know what will."

I raised a brow. "What's it gonna be this time? A direct challenge to Beowulf, or sabotaging him by 'strategically supervising' while I do all your work?"

Clawley squared his shoulders, his tone dripping with venom. "We're going to challenge Beowulf."

"Bold plan," I deadpanned, gesturing to the bucket and mop in the corner. "I'd suggest warming up with the toilets first. Y'know, build your confidence."

"Ayla ," Clawley growled, grabbing my arm, his grip just tight enough to sting. "Join us. With your strength-"

The door creaked open, cutting him off.

Frida strutted in, trailing two of Beowulf's harem like an over-glorified parade leader. "Oh, Wulfie," she cooed, her voice so saccharine it made my teeth ache. "Wait until you see what I've done with the guest suite."

And then he entered. Beowulf.

Every muscle in my body stiffened, my heart slamming against my ribs. His turquoise eyes locked onto me, and for a second, it felt like they stripped me bare. My wolf stirred, pressing hard against my chest, desperate to reach him.

Gods, he was stunning. High cheekbones, square jaw dusted with golden stubble, skin bronzed like he'd been kissed by the sun itself. And that body-shirtless under his leather jacket, his torso a masterpiece carved by years of battle.

I dropped my gaze to the floor, letting my hair fall forward to shield my face. Two years ago, in this very building, I'd had an encounter with him that still haunted me. Exquisite pleasure, crushing regret-it was a memory I wished I could erase.

"See the portrait of Fenrir?" Frida's grating voice yanked me back to the present. "I framed it with pine for a Scandinavian vibe. Perfect for our Norse alpha."

Beowulf grunted in acknowledgment, clearly unimpressed.

I lined up against the wall with the twins, standing still and silent as omegas were expected to in the presence of a superior. My heart pounded like a drum, loud enough that I was sure the twins could hear it.

Once, my wolf had believed Beowulf was my fated mate. I'd been foolish enough to approach him, to-

No. I shoved the thought away. Nothing good could come from revisiting that mistake.

Frida continued parading Beowulf around the room, basking in the credit for my hard work.

Fangley leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper. "When Alpha asks about the second suite, tell him you didn't have enough time."

My jaw clenched. "Frida told Clawley-"

"He's less likely to whip you," Fangley snapped.

"But Frida will," I muttered, knowing it was true.

Fangley didn't argue. We both knew Beowulf didn't micromanage the pack. He was too entangled in supernatural politics as the Shifter King of Logris. That left the harem to handle discipline, and Frida wielded her authority like a damn weapon.

A knock at the door broke the tension. I stepped forward to answer, relief flooding through me at the distraction.

Randel stood there, tall and imposing, his dark skin gleaming under the hallway lights. He was one of the few enforcers who treated me with decency.

"The metal mage wants extra for the last-minute changes to the Fenrir statue," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

Frida shoved past me, nearly knocking me off balance. "Let me handle that scammer. Eliza, Ginger, you're with me."

As they disappeared down the hall, I was left alone with the twins.

They whispered in hushed tones, glancing toward the bathroom door.

My pulse quickened. Were they seriously planning to challenge Beowulf today?

No way. Even they weren't that stupid.

Ayla

I couldn't afford to get tangled in their nonsense. My heart raced as I shoved the boxers behind the sofa cushion, then crept closer to the door, just in case things went south.

Seconds later, Beowulf walked out of the bathroom, his sharp gaze locking onto me. "Report."

The emptiness in his eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. I hardened my resolve, but deep inside, my wolf shrank, tail tucked, crushed by the sting.

"All tasks completed as instructed, Alpha," Fangley said, drawing Beowulf's attention away from me. "Except the last guest room. Ayla needs more time to finish her duties."

Beowulf's gaze returned to me. "Explain."

The twins turned to face me, their identical glares sending static through the air. Anger surged in me-not just because they were trying to pin their laziness on me, but also because Beowulf acted like I was invisible, even as my wolf howled for his attention.

My throat tightened. What good would it do to play along with their game? I wouldn't gain their respect. They had taunted me every day about my murdered father.

I owed them nothing.

Beowulf raised an eyebrow, silent but expectant.

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "It's easier for two people to finish the work of one than for one to finish the work of two, Alpha."

"Frida told us to unload the drinks delivery and set up the grill," Fangley cut in, eager to shift the blame. "She told Chlamydia over there to prepare the guest rooms."

The insult burned. My cheeks flushed with humiliation. That bastard had to use the harem's favorite nickname for me.

Beowulf's lips curled in a disgusted frown. For once, I was glad he didn't remember what had happened between us.

"Ask Frida," Clawley added, trying to cover their tracks.

Beowulf narrowed his eyes. "Not necessary." He surveyed the room, his gaze landing on the TV area. "Two empty cans of lager. Two dents on the sofa. Scuff marks on the table from someone using it as a footrest."

"We finished early, Alpha," Clawley said, unfazed.

Fangley nodded, adding, "Frida said we could-"

"Silence." Beowulf's voice sliced through their excuses like a blade. His nostrils flared as he walked over to the sofa and flipped the cushion, revealing the hidden boxers.

My breath caught in my chest, but I forced myself to keep a mask of indifference.

Beowulf held up the boxers between his thumb and forefinger. "You." His amber eyes seethed with fury as they fixed on me. "Get out."

Relief crashed through me in a tidal wave, rushing out with my breath. The twins would want to tear me apart for this, but by the time they got their bearings, I'd be long gone. They were tough, sure, but I was faster, more vicious-and I had a hell of a lot more to lose.

I bolted for the door, flinging it open just as a pair of enforcers stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat. Now it was three against two. If the twins had any sense, they'd take their punishment and forget about challenging the alpha.

Beowulf's growl rumbled through the air, making my skin prickle. "If you so much as blame the girl for this, I will-"

The door clicked shut behind me, muffling whatever Beowulf was about to say.

I stepped outside the guest house, greeted by the vast expanse of lawn. It was one of the warmest Spring Equinoxes on record, though I suspected it had more to do with the wards surrounding Logris, the supernatural city.

Logris sat in Richmond Park, one of London's largest outdoor spaces. It was mostly forest with deer and lakes, but security was tight. The supernatural world had been exposed to the human world a few months ago, and they'd been attacked. Beowulf and his colleagues on the Supernatural Council had upped the magic protecting us, though they were still fine-tuning the weather enchantment.

I spotted the bronze wolf sculpture, where the whipping post used to stand. My steps quickened as I headed toward it. The sculpture towered over ten feet tall, with chains wrapped around its neck, legs, and tail. Broken chains hung around its mouth, with pieces of metal floating, frozen mid-explosion. It stood atop a plinth labeled "FENRISÚLFR," Fenrir's wolf in Old Norse.

"Like it, do you?" A rough voice called from behind me.

I turned to find a man with quicksilver eyes, his scent sharp like copper pennies. Probably Frida's metal mage.

"It's brilliant," I said, gesturing at the sculpture. "How did you make this in a day?"

He rocked forward on his heels, grinning. "Three hundred years of practice and a pinch of natural talent. You one of the shifters?"

"Yes." I frowned. "Why?"

The mage rubbed his chin. "Do your wolf parties include sacrifices?"

I wrinkled my nose. "No. Why?"

"Because the new wards around Logris are melting like gallium on a summer's day." He stretched his arms and leaned to the side, popping his spine. "The extra magic from the Human World protection's draining power from the doorways to Heaven and Hell."

I glanced toward the guest house. "Should we be worried?"

"Only if you're into that spiritual stuff." He waved his hand, unconcerned. "Get a wardsmith to secure the statue, just in case someone gets any bright ideas about invoking gods, angels, or devils."

I stared at him blankly. "What's the point when you can just email or text them?"

He shrugged. "Just giving you a warning."

A door slammed open, followed by a pained grunt. Two enforcers shoved the twins onto the front steps. My stomach dropped. It looked like they were heading my way.

"Nice talking to you," I said quickly, stepping away from the mage. "Maybe you should tell the woman who handles the invoices."

He shuddered. "Maybe I should."

The sound of a fist connecting with flesh made me wince, and I hurried off the lawn, following the path to the front gates. Guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it down. Fangley and Clawley knew the risks of disobeying orders. Why should I feel bad for not taking the fall?

They weren't my friends. If Alpha Ember were still alive, they'd still be my tormentors. Now, they were just a couple of annoying assholes who thought they had power over me.

My wolf grunted its agreement as we stepped off the lawn and onto the conifer-lined driveway. The scent of pine filled my nostrils, and I tilted my head toward the sky, watching the fluffy clouds.

I had the rest of the afternoon to apply for jobs, colleges, anything in the supernatural world that would get me out of Lunaris, the village inside Logris. My mother and I would start fresh, somewhere no one knew us, and we could live without constant persecution.

The wards shimmered over my skin as I passed through the gates and onto the road that bordered the alpha's compound, one of seven villages inside Logris.

A massive coach rolled toward me, its tires coated in dust, looking like it had traveled from far away.

It stopped, and the door hissed open.

"Excuse me?" The driver called, a handsome blond about my age, his scent distinctly wolf. "Are we close to Beowulf Zayden's place?"

I pointed behind me. "Just over there. Drive through the gates."

He frowned. "We're from the Norse Pack."

My heart skipped. The Norse were one of the largest, most powerful wolf packs. "Are you here for tonight's Wolf Moon Mixer?"

He flashed a sheepish grin. "We got here earlier than planned. Our coach can't get through the wards, and the nClawley they gave us was busy."

I frowned. Someone on Beowulf's team must have dropped the ball. "I have permission to get through the wards," I said. "Let me sit in the driver's seat and help you inside."

Relief washed over his face. "Thank you."

I jogged across the road and climbed aboard. Up close, the driver was even more handsome-clean-cut with a square jaw and perfectly straight nose. His bright aquamarine eyes sparkled like pools, and his sandy blond hair swept back to show off his strong features. He didn't look like someone who spent his days driving coaches.

"Welcome aboard," he greeted, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. He flashed me a dazzling smile.

My mouth went dry. Was he flirting? I gulped. When he found out I was lower than an omega, how quickly would that warmth turn to scorn?

"Um..." I pulled my gaze away from him and glanced inside the coach.

There were bunks on one side and rows of seats filled with young people, their hair in various shades of blond. This had to be the Norse pack.

"Will you be at the mixer tonight?" the driver asked.

"I wasn't invited."

He looked me over. "Are you already mated?"

I shook my head.

"Then you're coming as our guest," he said, grinning. "And I won't take no for an answer."

My heart skipped a beat.

Reason nClawley three why I was the shifter Cinderella? I'd just gotten invited to the ball.

***

It took me a few seconds to fully process the sight of so many Norse shifters packed into one space, followed by another few seconds for my breathing to slow down to something resembling normal. I turned to the tall Viking beside me, nodding eagerly.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Going to the mixer as your guest would be great."

A booming voice came from behind us, cutting through the hum of the crowd.

"Wonderful."

I turned, and my eyes widened. The man who stood before us was the largest person I had ever seen-easily six-foot-five, even taller than Beowulf, and his build was massive, more like an ox than a wolf. He was shirtless, his muscles bulging in a way that made me feel tiny just standing near him. His strawberry-blond beard stretched down his chest in a thick braid, and his hair, slicked back from his face, looked like it might also be braided.

My throat dried. What in the world was he?

"Valko Gundahar, alpha of the Norse Lands," the massive man boomed, extending a hand that looked as though it could swallow mine whole. His palm was the size of a baseball glove. "And I see you've met my son, Dolph."

I blinked, my mind racing. I was standing in front of an alpha. A Norse alpha. My gaze shifted quickly to the young man who had just invited me to the Wolf Moon. Bloody hell, I'd just had a civil conversation with the son of an alpha. The moment anyone found out that I didn't even qualify to be an omega, they would flip.

I pushed those thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus as I placed my hand in Valko's and braced myself for the crushing grip that followed. He pumped my arm up and down like a rusty spigot.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even as my throat felt dry. I stared into his twinkling blue eyes, swallowing hard.

Finally, Alpha Gundahar released my hand and swung his fist in the air.

"Advance to the Wolf Moon!"

The cheer that followed nearly deafened me. My ears rang from the noise, but I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. Beowulf would never travel with the younger members of his pack unless it was in a separate vehicle, surrounded by an entourage of enforcers and women who looked like they had stepped out of a harem. These Norse shifters seemed way more relaxed by comparison.

Dolph smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice smooth. "Shall we?"

I nodded, still a bit stunned, and followed him to the front of the coach, lowering myself into the extra-wide driver's seat.

As Dolph settled beside me, a flutter of butterflies stirred in my stomach, but I quickly shushed them. There was no need to overthink this. Dolph had just invited me to the mixer-it was probably just a simple thank you for helping them with the wards after their long journey from Scandinavia.

My wolf stirred, cracked open an eye, then went back to sleep. Dolph's presence didn't seem to register for her.

The engine roared to life, and the coach rumbled down the driveway, heading toward the gates of the alpha's compound.

"So, where exactly are you from?" I asked, trying to ease my nerves.

"We live in Denmark," Dolph replied with a broad grin. "Our pack includes Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Norway, Sweden, and Finland too."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "That's pretty impressive."

He shook his head, still smiling. "It's nothing compared to what you're doing over here in Great Britain. In our lands, each race pretty much keeps to themselves."

"But your father rules the other shifters?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Only wolves," Dolph answered, his pale blue eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent a small shiver down my spine. "It's great that all the supernatural races work together here."

I offered him a weak smile. Logris seemed great from the outside, as did their village, Lunaris, but only Beowulf mixed with other races. Most of the others in our pack, unless they were enforcers, were confined to their village.

We passed through the gates, and suddenly a strange prickling sensation ran across my skin, as if thousands of tiny pins were pushing into my pores. The engine revved, the coach fighting to climb a steep hill. Dolph's nostrils flared, and he eased the vehicle to a stop.

"Your alpha certainly likes his wards," he remarked, his voice tight.

"Only wolf shifters from our pack are allowed through the gates," I explained with a grimace. "Everyone else has to be walked through the threshold."

Just then, the roar of four motorcycles reached us, with a fifth one trailing behind.

"A welcoming party?" Dolph raised an eyebrow, glancing at me.

The wards likely tipped off the enforcers that a group of outsiders was trying to gain access, I said with a casual shrug, keeping my tone light.

Alpha Gundahar threw his head back and roared with laughter. "They probably think we're holding you for ransom."

I cringed, my shoulders instinctively hitching up to my ears. These Norse wolves had no clue. No one cared about my safety-not even the other shifter breeds. I wasn't worth kidnapping.

"Let's give them a warm hello." Alpha Gundahar rose from his seat, his massive frame lClawleying past us toward the exit. He waved one gigantic hand, and the doors slid open with a hiss. Stepping into the driveway, he spread his arms wide, greeting the new arrivals.

The other shifters swarmed behind him, their energy palpable, bouncing on their heels with excitement.

The four riders at the front dismounted in sync, their leather uniforms marking them as enforcers, with automatic guns strapped across their backs.

"Security seems tight," Dolph muttered beside me.

I resisted the urge to sigh. Did they really need to look so paranoid? It wasn't like they weren't expecting foreign wolves. "Logris had a lot of trouble just after Yule," I explained. "With the rogue god."

Dolph rose from his seat and gestured for me to follow him outside. As we stepped into the cool air, I noticed Beowulf dismounting from the fifth motorbike. He cut through his enforcers, heading straight for Alpha Gundahar. Beowulf offered his hand, but Alpha Gundahar grinned and enveloped him in a bear hug.

Dolph chuckled beside me. "Father's such a goof. Come on, let's go say hello to your alpha."

A tight knot formed in my stomach. Part of me had been hoping I could slip away and savor the idea of being invited to the Wolf Moon. But now, it felt all too real. There was a chance I might actually go.

With reluctance, I followed Dolph through the crowd of shifters toward Beowulf and the enforcers, wrapping my arms around my middle. My wolf stirred, its attention focused, ears pricking as we approached.

"There she is!" Alpha Gundahar boomed, pointing a thick finger at me. "Why isn't this fine girl attending the Wolf Moon? Don't tell me you've reserved her for yourself."

Beowulf's eyes locked onto mine. "Ayla Garrison is a special case."

My stomach dropped, and I could feel my wolf's excitement bubbling up. He remembered my name? I quickly shoved the feeling down. It didn't mean anything. Fangley and Clawley had probably cursed me during their whipping sessions.

"Then you have no objections to Ayla coming as our guest?" Alpha Gundahar pressed, amusement lacing his voice.

Beowulf's expression hardened, his muscles tensing. His entire body screamed that he didn't want me at the Wolf Moon, yet he forced a smile-though it looked more like a baring of teeth.

"Ayla may attend this evening," Beowulf growled, each word dripping with warning.

Alpha Gundahar's laughter boomed again, filling the air. "Wonderful! If this generation's females are as sweet as Ayla , my boys will return to our lands satisfied."

Beowulf's gaze never left me, his eyes burning with a fury that was even hotter than when he'd found those cum-stained boxers. His stare was pure fire, and I knew-deep down-that I might be in trouble. There was no telling what he'd do next. I could already feel the familiar dread worming through me, slithering in my gut. Beowulf's anger was like a smothering weight, threatening to crush me.

But then, my wolf stood at attention, its head held high in response to the fury. My body stiffened, reacting to him as it always did. Only one man had ever complimented me on my looks, and it was the same man who now seemed intent on incinerating me with his gaze.

I quickly tore my eyes away from him, my wolf whining in protest, but I couldn't stand it. The sooner I left this place, the better it would be for both of us.

Turning to Dolph, I forced a smile, one that felt like a thin mask. "It was really nice meeting you."

"Will I see you tonight?" he asked, his smile dazzling as it caught the light.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to say no. No, because my wolf didn't respond to him the way it did to Beowulf. No, because I had other plans. No, because Beowulf clearly didn't want me there.

"She will be there," Beowulf growled, his voice cold and final.

My heart skipped a beat, and I hated myself for even considering it.

The walk home felt like a blur-my mind was spinning, the thoughts all jumbled and mixed up. It was like I couldn't make sense of what had just happened. One second, Beowulf had been glaring at me, giving me that unmistakable warning to stay away from the Wolf Moon-or else. But then, just like that, he'd ordered me to attend, throwing in threats about dire consequences if I didn't. The shift was so sudden, I could barely wrap my head around it.

A warm breeze stirred through the hedgerows marking the boundary of Alpha Gundahar's territory, but I didn't even notice. My head was too full of his words-of everything that had happened. My stomach twisted at the thought of Beowulf's harsh treatment and whether it had something to do with the fact that I was an outcast. But it didn't make sense. I tried to shake the thoughts off, but they lingered in the back of my mind, nagging at me.

I barely registered the sound of a Harley Davidson swerving around me as I crossed Lunaris Road.

"Ayla , Chlamydia!" someone shouted from one of the cottages lining Lunaris Square.

The insults were nothing new, but that didn't make them hurt any less. It had started with Fangley and Clawley's mother, who'd spread the rumor that my mom couldn't shift because she had syphilis. Never mind the fact that she'd been beaten senseless by that woman while pregnant with me. The cruel nickname had stuck, and it followed me like a shadow, no matter where I went.

I didn't even bother flipping them off this time. My mind was too far gone, consumed by everything that had just happened. I pushed on through the tree-lined streets of the wolf district, my thoughts still tangled up with Beowulf's behavior, wondering if it had anything to do with my status among them.

I turned the corner into the maze of alleyways that made up the rodent district, and the shadows from the tightly packed buildings swallowed me up. The sun couldn't even squeeze through the gaps between the buildings, casting everything in a grim, dim light. The stench of droppings, festering trash, and urine barely registered in my nose, but enough to make me instinctively pull my arms to my sides, trying not to touch the filthy walls.

The excited shouts of a street fight filled the air. My lips thinned. Was it Weasels versus Stoats today? Or maybe Hamsters versus shifters?

"Syphilis Syb!" a voice screeched, followed by a burst of laughter. "Get out of there before we burn your shack to cinders!"

My heart leaped into my throat, and before I even had time to think, my legs were moving, breaking into a run.

"Mum," I muttered, the word a desperate prayer as I raced through the mess of broken furniture, bags of trash, and unconscious shifters. I needed to get home. I needed to get to my mother.

When I finally rounded the corner to our street, what I saw made my blood boil. The front door to our shack was lying in the middle of the road, as though someone had just ripped it off its hinges. A crowd had gathered around our place, blocking my view of the doorstep.

Rage boiled up inside me, hot and sharp. This was my home. My mother. No one was going to mess with us.

"What the hell are you doing to my house?" I screamed, my voice rising over the crowd's roars and the women's shouts.

My words were drowned out by the chaos, but I didn't care. I shoved my way forward, pushing past weasel and rodent shifters until I reached the edge of the crowd. My heart thundered, my throat dry as my wolf pushed close to the surface, eager for a fight.

If they touched my mother...

At the edge of the crowd, I spotted the familiar faces standing at my doorstep. Frida, tall and sneering, stood beside Eliza, her second-in-command-an imposing black woman with braids. Healer Asena, the one I'd never fully trusted, stood on a box, her height giving her the ability to loom over the scene, though she wasn't much taller than the others.

My hands curled into fists. I could take on Frida and Eliza. Hell, maybe even four of them. But Asena was different. She was unpredictable, and I wasn't sure how far I was willing to push things.

"Get out of here," I snarled, my voice cutting through the air.

Asena turned slowly, her dark brown eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "Ayla Garrison," she said, her voice low and gravelly. "Your mother has been soliciting."

The words hit me like a slap to the face. I recoiled, feeling my chest tighten. "What the hell did you just say?"

Frida cocked her hip and smirked. "Tell Syphilis Sib that no one wants her shitty services."

I could barely process anything as I walked home. My thoughts were a whirlwind, replaying every word Beowulf had said. One minute, he'd been glaring at me with a warning about the Wolf Moon-stay away, or else-and the next, he was practically dragging me to it, threatening dire consequences if I didn't comply. What the hell was that about?

The warm breeze brushing through the hedgerows marking the alpha's territory barely registered as my mind kept racing, caught up in the mess Beowulf had made of my day. I didn't even hear the roar of the Harley until it swerved around me, and I barely cared. It was all too much.

"Ayla , Chlamydia!" A voice shouted from one of the cottages lining Lunaris Square.

I gritted my teeth. The insults were a constant. Ever since Fangley and Clawley's mother had spread that rumor about my mom-that she couldn't shift because of syphilis-it had stuck like glue. The truth didn't matter, not that it ever did. My mom had taken the beatings, the false accusations. It didn't matter that she'd been brutalized while pregnant with me. To them, I'd always be Chlamydia Ayla .

I didn't even bother flipping them off. I was too pissed. I pushed on through the streets of the wolf district, but my thoughts kept circling back to Beowulf. Why did he have it out for me? Was it just me, or was it because I was an outcast? It didn't matter how hard I tried to shake the thoughts-I couldn't. They gnawed at me.

I turned into the alleyways of the rodent district, where the shadows between the crumbling buildings swallowed me whole. The sun barely made it through the gaps. The air was thick with the stench of droppings, trash, and urine, but I hardly noticed. What I noticed was how close to the edge I was.

The noise of a street fight echoed ahead. Weasels versus stoats? Or hamsters versus shifters? It didn't matter. I was too focused on getting home.

"Syphilis Syb!" A woman's shrill voice rang out, followed by the threat, "Get out of there before we burn your shack to cinders!"

A cold knot twisted in my stomach. My breath caught, and without thinking, I sprinted.

"Mum," I whispered, heart pounding as I shoved through the mess of alleyway obstacles.

My feet barely touched the ground as I dodged broken furniture, trash, and even a few unconscious shifters. I had to get to her. She couldn't handle this.

When I finally reached our shack, the sight nearly made me combust. The door was lying in the road like it had been ripped off its hinges. A crowd had gathered around the place. They were blocking my view of the doorstep.

My blood boiled. This was my home. My mother. No one had the right to do this.

"What the hell are you doing to my house?" My voice cut through the chaos, raw with fury.

The crowd didn't stop. I didn't care. I shoved my way through, ignoring the sneers from weasels and rodents until I reached the front. My wolf clawed at my skin, itching for a fight.

If they so much as touched my mother...

At the edge of the crowd, I spotted the faces I'd been hoping to avoid-Frida, Eliza, and the healer, Asena.

Frida, tall and sneering, was the first to meet my gaze. Eliza, with her silent strength, stood beside her. And Asena, the healer I never quite trusted, stood on a box, using her height to make herself seem more intimidating.

My hands curled into fists. I could take on Frida and Eliza, maybe even four of them. But Asena was different. She was unpredictable.

"Get off my doorstep," I snarled, not giving an inch.

Asena turned toward me, her lips curling into a twisted smile. "Ayla Garrison. Your mother's been soliciting."

I recoiled, feeling like I'd been slapped. "What the hell did you just say?"

Frida tilted her head, her voice smug. "Tell Syphilis Sib that no one wants her shitty services."

I stepped forward, my voice sharp as a blade. "First of all, two of you are slandering my mother. She wasn't soliciting. And as a graduate of the University of Logris, her healing services are not 'shit.'"

Frida's teeth flashed in a quick snarl. "Those are my clients."

I arched an eyebrow, my voice colder than ice. "Seven other healers work in Lunaris. Some of them work in your clinic. You don't have a monopoly on anything, Frida, except being a jealous bully."

Asena hissed from behind me. "Did you hear her slander me?"

I turned on Eliza, fury burning in my chest. "What do you call running a woman out of business and tearing her door off its hinges?"

Eliza stayed silent, but her eyes flickered to Frida, who had no response.

Before I could snap again, I noticed the door to the house creak open slightly. My heart skipped. My mother had made it inside.

My anger surged again. They'd been harassing her long enough. No one had the right to treat her like this.

"Get off my doorstep, unless you want to settle this like wolves," I growled, standing tall, daring them to challenge me.

Frida looked momentarily unsure. "And risk contracting chlamydia?" she mocked with a nervous laugh. "Alpha needs me tonight for the Wolf Moon."

My wolf howled inside me at the thought of Beowulf and Frida, but I masked my anger. "Sounds like you want to avoid the ass-kicking I gave you last time."

Her eyes flickered with malice. "Tomorrow, it'll be one against one. Let's see how you like those odds."

I clenched my fists, narrowing my eyes. "Sounds great, considering the last fight with you and your three friends ended when you threw salt in my eyes."

A few snickers spread through the crowd. I didn't care. I just wanted them to leave.

Frida tossed her blonde hair back, trying to mask her unease. "Let's see how your brute strength holds up against the healer's magic."

I glanced at Asena, who was glaring at the retreating women, muttering curses under her breath.

"Do you need help getting down?" I asked, irritation seeping into my voice.

"Don't patronize me," Asena spat.

I raised an eyebrow. "Then kindly get off my doorstep, tell these goons to bugger off, and hand over two silver coins for the damage done to my door."

Asena's face twisted in annoyance, but she didn't budge. "That thing was barely hanging off its hinges."

I fixed her with a stare so hard it could've cracked stone. "Three coins, or the rodents get to see a wolf tear into their local doctor."

The healer's face went red, and her fists clenched. She was pissed, but she knew better than to take me on.

The crowd seemed to sense it too. Asena wasn't ordinary. Her magic was dangerous, fae magic, the kind that could break you if you weren't careful.

But to my surprise, Asena reached into her pocket, pulled out a handful of coins, and tossed them in front of me.

"No patient wants a healer too incompetent to heal herself," she muttered.

My wolf wanted to snap, but I held it back. There were more important things at stake. I glanced back at the house, checking on my mother.

By the time I turned back, Asena had disappeared into the crowd.

"I picked up your coins." Phina, my neighbor, stepped forward, a handful of golds, silvers, and bronzes in her hands.

"Thanks," I said, relief washing over me. I forced a smile, grateful for her help.

"I can fix the door while you check on Sybil?" Phina offered, concern written all over her face.

I nodded gratefully. "Would you?"

She handed me the coins. "That's your share. Go inside. Sybil needs you."

I squeezed her hand briefly, then stepped through the wards of my home. They had been set up to make the shack look abandoned from the outside, but inside, it was warm and inviting.

The fire in the hearth crackled as I crossed the oak floors. My eyes searched for my mother, but she wasn't in the usual spots-no curled form on the couch or chair.

The only sign she'd been there was the scattered leaflets on the low table. "Mum? Are you in there?"

She staggered into view, her eyes glazed, like she was half in another world.

My heart dropped as I rushed to her side. "Are you alright?"

She felt weightless in my arms. Like a bird too fragile to fly.

"Did they hurt you?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Who?" she murmured, her words slurred.

I smelled rhododendron pollen on her breath. I clenched my jaw. "Are you hallucinating?"

Her grip on my arm tightened, and her voice turned distant. "Tonight is the Spring Equinox of your twenty-first year. A time of great awakening."

I ran my fingers gently through my mother's honey-blonde hair, brushing it away from her face as I asked, "How much pollen did you take this time?"

Sybil's gaze was unfocused, and her voice was a whisper lost in the fog. "Only an hour's worth. I needed to check for portents... Do you know what I found?"

My frown deepened, but I kept my voice soft. "Mum, why don't you just sleep it off? You're not making sense."

Her hand gripped mine tighter, her voice distant but insistent. "You must go to tonight's ritual."

I blinked, trying to clear the confusion swirling in my mind. "Do you mean the Wolf Moon Mixer?"

She nodded, her eyes sharpening. "Tonight... you will meet your mate."

A chill ran through me, and I stiffened. The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth couldn't reach the cold that settled deep in my chest. "If this is about Beowulf again-"

Her voice cut through my words like a blade, sharp and unwavering. "Ayla ." It stopped me mid-sentence. "You were meant for better things than this. You have the blood-"

I swallowed the sharp words that wanted to rise in my throat. My lips pressed into a thin line as I repeated, "Yes, I have the blood of an Alpha running through my veins." She'd said it to me every day, as if the blood coursing through me meant I could rise above it all-above the bullies, above the struggles, above the years of weakness. I was supposed to be more.

Encouragement like that had been the lifeline I clung to throughout the academy. It had kept me grounded when the Ember twins and their pack of loyal followers made my life hell. Every taunt, every shove, every cruel word was met with the reminder that I was meant for something bigger, something better. And it had given me the strength to believe, for a fleeting moment, that I was destined to be with Beowulf.

But that belief? It had crumbled in an instant, shattered by a single encounter that tore my world apart and sent me spiraling back to the bottom, exactly where I'd started.

I sat by Mum's side, staring into her glazed eyes, feeling a tight knot in my chest. Guilt gnawed at me. "Sorry for being rude," I muttered, my voice softer than I intended.

Mum's hand reached for mine, her grip warm but weak. She pressed something into my palm. It was hard, jagged, and unfamiliar. "You're frustrated," she said, her voice distant, like she was speaking from another world. "But you're like the caterpillar that's outgrown its cocoon, itching to break free. Go to the Wolf Moon tonight. You'll meet your true mate."

I glanced down at the object she'd given me, turning it over in my hand. It was a four-inch-long piece of rusted metal. Diamond-shaped, with a stalk running the length of it. Two diagonal lines splayed from each side, forming a tripod, and a pair of lines jutted from the top two-thirds of the stalk.

"What's this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Mum sighed, her eyes fluttering closed as she spoke again, her words thick with weariness. "Fenrir's sigil," she said. "Wear it tonight for luck." She closed my fingers around the metal piece, her grip a little firmer this time. "When you look into your mate's blue eyes, he will unlock your destiny."

"Mum?" I shook her gently, my voice barely a whisper, but she didn't respond.

Her breathing slowed, evened out, and soon enough, a soft snore escaped her lips. I sighed, rolling her onto her back, adjusting the blankets so she was comfortable. Mum always did this during festivals. While others reveled in the celebrations, reconnecting with friends, family, or their wolves, Mum only had me.

I stood, stretching my back, the familiar ache running through my muscles from a long day of cleaning the guest house. The crack of my spine as I straightened made me wince, reminding me of how much my body hurt.

What did Beowulf want from me? His glare earlier had been so intense that it felt like he was daring me to regret attending the Wolf Moon. But then he'd promised Alpha Gundahar I'd be there.

Was Mum right about the whole true mate thing? My gaze dropped back to her, uncertainty sinking like a stone in my chest.

I had nothing to lose. Nothing at all.

And if there was even the slightest chance that Mum was right, that the Wolf Moon prophecy held some truth, then I owed it to myself to at least try. To go and meet my mate.