But then I exhale, slow and controlled.
“I never wanted Cassie,” I say finally, voice low but firm. “She’s always known that.”
Dax goes still beside me, surprised I said it out loud.
“She thinks being Luna is some kind of birthright,” I continue, keeping my eyes on the locker across the hall. “But I’m not Alpha. Not yet. That’s still my dad.”
“And until then?”
“Until then,” I say, “she doesn’t get to decide who belongs in this pack. And she doesn’t get to use me as an excuse to play power games.”
Dax tilts his head. “Even if others back her up?”
I turn to him. “Then they’re backing the wrong future.”
His mouth twitches like he’s not sure if he should be worried or impressed. “You ready to handle the storm that comes with that?”
I nod once. “I don’t want Cassie. I never did. And if she comes after Maya because of that, she’s not just challenging her—she’s challenging me.”
Dax lets out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”
I don’t smile. I can’t. Because it’s not a threat—it’s a promise.
“She’s threatened,” Dax continues. “Threatened Cassie gets mean. Reckless. And if she can’t get to Maya directly, she’ll find other cracks. People who can be turned. Doubts that can be planted.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“She won't lay a handon her.”
“She won’t have to,” Dax says flatly. “She’s already playing the long game. You better be ready.”
And I know I have to be.
Because even if Cassie hasn’t attacked yet—
She’s already begun.
I find Maya near the quad, posted up against that tree she gravitates toward like it’s got answers. She doesn’t see me at first—head tilted back, eyes closed, trying to soak up sun or oxygen or maybe just something that’ll keep her grounded. Her hoodie sleeves are pulled over her hands again. Defensive stance. Her braid’s half unraveled.
She looks like someone who knows a storm’s coming and is already counting the seconds between lightning and thunder.
I walk up slow.
“Hey.”
She opens her eyes like she already knew I was there. No jolt. No stunned reaction. Just that low, simmering awareness she’s been carrying since the bonfire.
“Hey,” she says, dry. “Did you know I was today’s main event? Everyone’s staring at me like I sprouted claws and went feral in the cafeteria.”
I almost smile. “Cassie’s probably rehearsing a whole new version of the story.”
Maya shifts her weight. “Am I supposed to be worried?”
“Yes,” I say honestly. “But not scared.”
She watches me. “Scared and worried aren’t exactly the same.”
“She’s all posture,” I say. “She wants you off-balance. That’s her game.”
