The hallway swallowed them a few steps later, leaving behind the faint echo of laughter and the scent of forest pine.
“Okay, what wasthat?” Sophie asked, eyebrows raised. “You just turned into a statue.”
“Nothing,” Dani said quickly, snapping her locker shut. “It was nothing.”
“Those guys are such jerks,” Kendra muttered, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “Did you see how they looked at everyone? Like they own the place.”
“They kind of do,” Sophie said under her breath, too quietly for the others to hear.
“You’re just mad that Alex didn’t call you after you hooked up at that party the other week,” Sophie said, nudging Kendra.
“What? Am not!” Kendra’s cheeks flushed red, and she scowled, slamming her locker shut with decidedly more forcethan was necessary. “He’s an idiot, I don’t want anything to do with him!”
Dani didn’t say anything as her friends continued to bicker over Alex, one of the Nordan boys in Arthur’s group. Sure, she could see the appeal. Shifter males, alphas in particular, were far more attractive than their human counterparts. Plus, they had the whole raw animal magnetism thing going on that humans couldn’t resist.
Even though most humans, Sophie and Kendra included, had no idea shifters existed.
“Come on,” Dani said, interrupting a particularly eloquent flow of vitriol from Kendra, “let’s get out of here.”
They started toward the parking lot, the afternoon bright and cold, the sea wind rolling in through the open doors. But Dani’s thoughts lingered behind her, trapped in that brief moment when Arthur’s gaze had brushed hers and moved on like she was invisible.
She shouldn’t care. She told herself that every day.
But she did.
Because when the humans looked at her, they saw a normal girl. And when the wolves looked at her, they saw nothing at all.
Not even him.
The parking lot was half-empty now, sun glinting off car roofs, the scent of salt and motor oil in the air. Sophie waved before climbing into her truck, Kendra climbing into the passenger seat with a mock salute, and Dani returned the gesture with a distracted smile.
The second they were gone, the smile faded.
Her reflection in the car window stared back at her, a pale face framed by thick red hair, faint lines of exhaustion under her eyes. Some shifter she was.
She climbed into her car, tossed her ancient bag onto the passenger seat, and exhaled. Her notes spilled out, the stupid zipper finally giving way, and papers tumbled into the footwell.
“Damn,” she muttered, leaning over to gather up the mess, “what the…damn it.”
Her history notes were missing. Of course. She had been too busy trying to turn invisible as Arthur passed to properly bother packing her bag.
With an irritated snarl, she climbed out of the car, stalking back into the school, shouldering past the final few students spilling out into the fading golden light.
In the absence of the normal laughter and chaos, the drone of the electric, blue-tinged lights echoed alongside her footsteps as she hurried through the winding corridors. It never failed to amaze her how quickly the lively hubbub and noise transformed into an eerie, almost ominous, emptiness. She wondered if the effect would be better or worse if she had been able to shift, if she had access to the higher senses her wolf would grant her.
As it was, her ears twitched at every far-off door-hinge groaning, every rustle of breeze through the poorly insulated windows.
A dull thud from further up the hallway made her pause, her heart stuttering, eyes widening.
She held her breath, clutching her bag to her chest, but only the hum of the lights met her. With a loud, pointed scoff, she straightened, shaking out her hair. She wasn’t some child,cowering at dark doorways and big, empty spaces. The monsters that lurked in her shadow were altogether much more obvious about their presence.
With renewed confidence, she strode forward again, doggedly marching past an open door to a shadowy classroom.
A blur of motion caught the corner of her eye.
Before she could scream, a large hand clapped over her mouth. The other snaked around her waist, yanking her backward into the darkness.
Her bag fell, the zipper scraping the linoleum.
