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PROLOGUE
Ten years ago…
I furtively began my walk home from the schoolhouse. Nine years old and with a chest full of worries, I wished I could enjoy the expanse of forest on either side of me, the smell of pine, and the sound of dead leaves crunching underfoot. Instead, I had my fingers crossed that I wouldn’t encounter any of my classmates on the way home.
Maybe if I stick to the trees, they won’t notice me. If I’m quick, I might get home before they see—
A pair of quick footsteps sliced across my thoughts. I should have run, but my small legs—my cursedly human legs—refused to move. Instead, I turned my head, though I knew in my bones what was about to happen.
The first thing I saw was his auburn hair, swishing around his head like flames. My fingers clenched around the straps of my old, beat-up bag just as his hands touched my shoulder. He shoved me down as hard as he could, and I went sprawling across the path. Dust kicked up around me and was caked into the arm of my oversized shirt.
I skidded to a stop with a yelp as Troy howled with laughter. Pain flared up in my shoulder, the older wounds I’d received from Troy and the others opening again. Those wounds would already be healed if I were a werewolf like the others. If I were like them, I could defend myself. As it was, I lifted my head off the ground to face my tormentor.
He pointed at me. “Aw, look at the little girl. Are you going to cry?”
My lower lip wobbled, but I bit down hard to keep it still. Troy’s friends had caught up to him and were lined up behind him. They were already laughing—their smiles pulled wide over small, sharp teeth. I shivered, looking at them.
“Why don’t you run home, you fake?” Troy taunted.
“I’m not a fake!” I said, scrambling to my feet. “I’m me!”
“Yeah, and you’re a worthless imposter.” He started walking toward me, his hands in his pockets. “After all, you shouldn’t even be here. No one will ever claim you as their own.”
“S-stop.” I backed away, but Troy caught up to me.
He grabbed my arm. “You’re just a human in wolf’s clothes.” He shoved me down again.
His friends continued to laugh at me as I struggled to rise from the ground a second time. Troy, untiring of this game, moved as if to push me down again. So I did what any cornered animal would do when faced with a stronger foe—I lashed out. I flailed my limbs at him. He easily evaded my attacks at first, laughing delightedly, but he wasn’t paying attention to the ground. He stumbled on a tree root, and my hand connected with his face as he regained his balance.
The echo of the slap rippled through the trees, and a hush fell over his friends. Red bloomed across his cheek, only to heal just as quickly. His head turned toward me slowly, and my blood chilled as he met my gaze. The lack of anything but cold, dark hatred in his eyes shook me to my core.
I ran from him then, tears streaming behind me. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me and felt the pounding of my bag thumping against my back with each stride.
I burst into my home, calling, “Mom!” at the top of my lungs. There was no need to yell because her keen hearing had detected my frantic steps up to the door. My adoptive mother, Glenda, was already waiting with her arms outstretched. I buried my face in her apron and sobbed.
“Oh, honey,” she soothed, rubbing my back. “Was it Troy again?”
I gripped her skirt more tightly.
She sighed. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t deserve this.”
I looked up at her as large tears dripped down my cheeks. “I have to leave, Mom. I gotta run as far away from here as I can. I don’t belong here.”
She ran her fingers through my hair and bent to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Come here, child.” She brought me into her arms easily and began to carry me toward her favorite recliner chair, tufts of white stuffing bursting from the seams and scuff marks on the arms.
I sniffled. “I thought I was too old to be carried like this.”
Mom chuckled and eased into the chair. “Well, we’ll make an exception today. How does that sound?”
“Good.” I nuzzled into her neck, inhaling the scent of lavender and fresh soil, two scents that clung to my mom like perfume.
“I’ll tell you a story.” She cleared her throat. “Once, there was a young wolf who was cast out by her people. As she wandered through the forests, condemned to be a lone wolf who would surely die without the pack’s aid, a man—a human man—happened upon her in her shifted wolf form. Not knowing the truth about her, he took her in. She remained in her shifted form for a while, allowing herself to love the man who cared for her. But one night, she felt the need to shift, so she walked away from the human’s cottage to allow her human side to rule for a while. Unbeknownst to her, the man saw her shift.
“He was terrified at first since never before had he seen such a transformation. But when he saw that the human woman had the same kind eyes as his pet, he went to her, loved her, and claimed her as his own. They lived a beautiful life together for several years, but the man fell ill and passed without giving her any children. Still, her heart was happy and full because she had known love and acceptance. Shortly after, she stumbled upon a young wolf in the woods who was lost and confused, just as she had been years ago. She aided the young wolf, who was the daughter of a mighty Alpha. When the Alpha learned of all she had done for his daughter, he rewarded her by bringing her into his pack and giving her a home.”
As the story came to a close, I pulled away from her chest, frowning. “But—Mom, the woman in your story got to have a mate and a pack because she was a wolf. I won’t ever get to have a mate because I’m not a wolf.”
Mom smiled and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Sweet girl, good things come to those who fight for them.” She kissed the side of my head. “Never give up on fate, love.”
