Shifter Life
Shift back to life. Blood dribbles from my nose, and I wonder if I’ve actually broken it.
“Fucking prick!” I scream, swinging at my brother. He flies backward and smashes against the wall.
“Damn, Cat,” Mike mutters, lying on the mat, checking for bruises.
Mike—my older brother, next in line to be beta—isn’t just strong; he’s smart, trained, and a little too cocky.
“My nose…” I groan, pressing it, trying to stem the bleeding.
“Come on, I’ll kiss the pain away,” he teases.
“You’re an ass,” I snap.
“Love you too, KitKat,” he says, giving me a light kick as I tend to my nose.
Yeah. KitKat. Cute nickname from my childhood. Now I’m eighteen, officially an adult wolf shifter. My wolf June is pure alpha, synced perfectly with me. We fight together, train together, and sometimes argue like twin terrors.
“Go outside and shift to heal your injuries,” Dad barks.
David Evans, beta of the Crescent Moon Pack, doesn’t mess around. Mom complains constantly, but I’ve inherited Dad’s stubbornness—and his love of training.
Out in the yard, I finally shift, the world going hazy as fur coats my body. My nose stops bleeding almost instantly, muscles repair faster than any human could hope.
I love this. The adrenaline. The strength. The control.
We live in Montana, hidden among humans. Only a handful of vampires and witches know about our existence, and even they respect our secrecy. My pack is roughly seventy-five wolves, and I’ve spent my life learning where I fit—or where I refuse to fit.
High school is a different battlefield. Everton High. Humans everywhere, clueless. Wolves from the two nearby packs. A couple of vampires. A handful of witches. I know who’s who; humans don’t.
My two best friends: Tara, an omega from a neighboring pack, blond, blue-eyed, popular, girly, and insistent on making me sparkle. Lizzy, half-witch, shy, nerdy, slowly turning herself into someone the world might notice.
Heather. Queen bee. Blonde. Bitch. Beta from another pack. Tried to bully me years ago. I broke her nose. She hasn’t dared touch me since, but she whispers behind my back, spreads lies, tries to manipulate my social circle. She wants Robbie, my cousin, to be her mate—future Luna ambitions. She doesn’t scare me, but she annoys me.
⸻
Shower, hair in a high ponytail. Sporty black underwear, tight jeans, leather jacket, favorite boots. In the mirror, I see a normal girl—the wolf under my skin making me stronger, faster, sharper. June hums, approving.
Breakfast is a protein shake on the run. I’m late for school, so I grab my keys and head out.
Heather is already in the yard, leaning over Tristan, a vampire jock. She’s all flirt, duck lips, fake boobs, glancing at me to gauge my reaction. I don’t react. I walk past, head held high.
Inside, Tara waves me over, bouncing in excitement. “Kat! We’re going to a wolf club tonight—like, real grown-up shifters, not just humans pretending!”
I groan. Cozy Friday night? Gone.
“We’re all eighteen, single, and it’s time to live a little,” Tara continues, eyes sparkling. “You, me, Lizzy—let’s go.”
“No,” I mutter.
“Don’t you dare bail,” Tara says, stern. “We could be mated next month, and then it’s never the same. Think about it. You don’t want to miss this.”
I sigh. My wolf hums beneath my skin. We’ll see, Tara. We’ll see.
“Don’t be so difficult, Cat,” Tara says, bumping my shoulder as we walk down the hallway. “I know you want to go home and kick Mike’s ass, but come on—we’re young. Just think, you might finally meet the perfect human guy who can—”
“Oh my goddess, shut up,” I hiss, grabbing her arm. “Someone might hear you. There are shifters here.”
Tara throws her head back and laughs, loud and unapologetic. “You’re such a prude sometimes.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. Tara has been busy with boys since sophomore year. Football players mostly. Comes with being a cheerleader. My cousin Matt—the quarterback—has been her on-and-off something for years. Friends with benefits. No drama. No labels.
Wolves are naturally physical creatures. It’s not like I’ve been saving myself for any holy reason. I just haven’t met anyone tempting enough to make me care.
After school, we head to the mall. I’m not in a shopping mood, but Tara and Lizzy are everywhere at once, dragging dresses off racks like it’s a competitive sport. I sit on a bench scrolling through my phone while they try things on.
Eventually, Tara bursts out of a fitting room.
“Jackpot!”
She’s wearing a tight red sleeveless dress that barely covers anything. Her boobs look ready to start a rebellion.
“Look at my boobs!” she squeals.
Lizzy claps excitedly.
“It’s hot,” I admit, watching Tara spin. “But everyone will see your panties.”
“The more the merrier,” Tara winks. “Confidence is sexy.”
“With red lipstick and that dress, you’ll be queen of the club,” Lizzy laughs.
Then Lizzy steps out in a dark blue bodycon mini dress, hugging her curves perfectly.
“Oh. My. Goddess,” Tara breathes. “Girl.”
Lizzy blushes instantly.
“You look amazing,” I tell her honestly.
Tara grins. “Someone’s definitely getting lucky tonight.”
“Tara!” Lizzy giggles. “Stop it!”
Tara suddenly turns serious, scanning me like a puzzle. “So… what do we do about our warrior princess?”
“Something simple,” I say quickly. “Please.”
“You can be simple and hot,” Lizzy says gently.
Tara freezes, then gasps. “This is it.”
Before I can escape, they shove a black dress into my hands.
I stare at it. Tight. Leather-look. Low square neckline with a V cut. Bare back.
“Oh no. Absolutely not.”
They force me into the fitting room anyway.
When I step out, they scream.
“That is unfair,” Tara declares. “You can’t just casually look like that.”
“This shows, like, seventy percent of my boobs,” I protest, crossing my arms.
“Shape,” Tara corrects. “Not nipples. You’re fine.”
“I can’t wear this.”
“You can,” Lizzy insists. “You look… powerful.”
I open my mouth to argue again—just in time to see Tara sprint toward the cashier.
She pays. Of course she does.
Tara’s dad is loaded. Wall Street money. Omega or not, that family is rich. She does this all the time. Lizzy used to hate it. Now she just sighs and accepts it.
“I can’t believe you,” I mutter as we walk out. “You always do this.”
“You need to get out of your comfort zone, Kat,” Tara says lightly.
I clutch the bag, dread curling in my stomach.
If only I’d known how far out of my comfort zone I was about to be dragged.
