Chapter 1
“Come out with me tonight,” said my coworker Stella Carter as she worked beside the espresso machine.
“I can’t,” I sighed, wiping down the steam wand. “Dad wants me home right away.”
I’m Audrey Hale. Born without a wolf. Labeled defective.
A permanent shame to the entire Hale bloodline.
That was how I found myself scrubbing countertops every Friday night at River Brew, a lively coffee shop in downtown a small Oregon town. And it was the safest place I knew.
No shifters. No pack politics. No endless torment.
Stella was my only friend, the only one who made me believe beauty lingered amid the cruel Blackthorn Pack.
She was fully human, and had no idea my family were literal wolf shifters.
Stella’s face fell at my mention of my father.
My father Arthur served as the pack’s ruthless Beta.
He tolerated my job solely because he could not stand to look at my wolfless face.
Every cent I earned went toward gas and payments for my beat-up Ford.
The old car was far from perfect, but it was my only shot at freedom.
Anything was better than being trapped at home.
“You need to move out for good, we could rent a place together, go to parties and have a proper good time,” Stella said softly.
I ached for that life. Sadly, wolf shifters did not let those they claimed walk free, least of all someone branded defective.
“I’d leave today if I could. Go restock the cups now, the evening rush is coming.”
“Fine, fine.” She relented. “But seriously you should show Arthur you’re an adult.”
I held back a bitter laugh. If only she understood.
My father was the Beta. Even the strongest warriors in the pack obeyed his every word.
Only our Alpha held more power, a tyrant I did everything to avoid.
Stella let the topic drop, but I knew she would bring it up again tomorrow.
She had already started planning apartment budgets and checking our schedules.
She was the first to notice how suffocating my family was. The first to truly care.
My family had loved me once.
Before my sixteenth birthday. Before they realized a wolf would never surface within me.
On my darkest nights, I clung to those old memories like treasure.
I remembered my mother singing me to sleep. I remembered my father lifting me onto his shoulders, promising I could reach the stars. I remembered my older siblings, Eli and Lila Hale, proudly doting on their little sister.
Happy days. Days long gone.
My mother’s warm gaze turned cold as frozen lake ice. Once, my father dragged me out into the frigid Oregon wilderness, with no clothes, no food and no shelter. He claimed the hardship would force my wolf to awaken.
It never happened. And he never forgave me for it.
But for me right now, the human authorities could never help me anyway. Pack law overruled human law, and the government never interfered with shifter territories.
My only real chance to escape this prison was to find a fated mate from an outside pack. I dreamed of it endlessly.
Still, fear lingered. What if a wolfless outcast was never meant to have a mate?
The neon lights of Oregon faded behind me as I turned onto the unlit, winding mountain roads leading into Blackthorn territory.
Tonight, the darkness felt heavy and oppressive.
A thin crescent moon barely broke through the tree canopy.
My heart hammered, and anxiety twisted in my stomach. I kept checking the rearview mirror.
Being labeled defective made me the pack’s favorite target.
Younger wolves loved to chase me for sport and dared not hunt humans. The human government would destroy our home if regular people were hurt. So they hunted me instead.
Without warning, a large, muscular shape burst from the tree line, directly into my headlights.
I slammed on the brakes. The Ford swerved wildly. Tires screeched, and the sharp smell of burning rubber filled the car. My head lurched forward, slamming hard into the steering wheel.
The taste of blood filled my mouth; I had bitten my tongue.
My hands shook as I stared through the cracked windshield.
A tall, blurry figure stepped onto the road toward me. This was no wild animal.
It was a Blackthorn wolf.
Panic surged through me. I had to get home.
I reached for the ignition, and a sharp, blinding pain shot through my right wrist.
A bad sprain, for certain.
Gritting my teeth, I twisted the key with my left hand. The engine sputtered and died.
I tried again. And again. All I got was a weak, mechanical whine.
“No, no, no… please start.” Tears rolled in my eyes.
I glanced at the rearview mirror. My breathing grew ragged.
I was trapped, a rabbit caught in a trap, waiting for the hunter to strike.
CRACK.