Chapter 1
“Hey, loser. You hungry?”
Meatballs and sauce hit my shirt before I can even react. Great. My favorite one. Now it’s stained, and I smell like an Italian restaurant.
I blink hard, refusing to cry, and push out of the cafeteria, so much for lunch.
I head straight to my locker and grab the extra clothes I always keep there. I always bring a spare because I’m a target.
I don’t even know why I bother going into the cafeteria. I should’ve just hidden like I usually do. Maybe I like the humiliation, or maybe it’s worse being invisible.
“You weren’t bullied yesterday when you had to do laundry,” Lissa says.
I almost laugh. Right. I have a wolf.
My name is Carlissa. I’m seventeen. An omega in the Everlaw Pack, which is just a fancy way of saying I know my place. I don’t sit at the long tables. I don’t eat before the Betas. I don’t look the Alpha in the eye. We cook, we clean, we serve, and we stay quiet.
I’m treated worse than most omegas. I didn’t turn on my sixteenth birthday. No wolf. No shift. Just nothing. So now everyone thinks I’m cursed.
The funny part is, I do have a wolf. She just showed up differently. Lissa talks to me, teases me, warns me. She says I’m powerful, that I’ll turn when the time is right. I want to believe her, but it’s hard to believe in power when you’re treated like dirt every single day.
My locker slams shut on my fingers. Pain shoots up my hand, and I suck in a breath as I look up.
Riley Santos.
Of course.
She never misses. Queen bee, future Luna if she gets her way, and currently dating the Alpha’s son, Garret. If she’s here, he’s not far behind.
“Oh, is the freak omega about to cry?” she says.
Lissa growls low inside me. Heat sparks under my skin, sharp and sudden, and for a second, the hallway smells different. Fear. Metal. Something shifts.
I drop my gaze before anyone notices. “Do you need something, Riley?” I ask.
She grabs my fingers and squeezes hard. Pain shoots up my arm.
“You’re pathetic,” she whispers. “When I’m Luna, I’ll have you kicked out with nothing. Maybe a rogue will take pity on you and make your death quick.”
She grabs my chin and forces my head up. “You need to learn to look at your Luna when she’s speaking.”
Lissa growls again, louder this time, and Riley hesitates just for a second.
“What’s going on here?”
Garret.
Of course.
Tall, broad, unfairly perfect. It should be illegal to look like that.
“Too bad he’s dumb as hell,” Lissa mutters.
I choke on a laugh.
“You’re causing trouble again, Omega,” Garret says.
I glance down at my shirt. Spaghetti stains. Yeah, I’m the problem.
“I was just grabbing a change of clothes.”
His eyes drag over the mess. “Leave it. It suits you.”
Great. Less laundry.
The bell rings, and I grab my bag, starting toward art.
“Did I say you could leave, trash?” he calls.
I stop. “No.”
“No, what?”
My jaw tightens. “No, Alpha.”
Satisfied, he turns away.
Painting is the only thing that feels like mine. The smell of paint reminds me of my dad. He was an artist and a warrior. He used to say art tells the truth. People don’t.
He died protecting me from rogues. They say he fought like an Alpha. I remember a silver light, blood, and his smile.
“I love you—”
And then nothing.
My mom was an artist too. She stopped painting after he died. Stopped being a mother.
A few days after my sixteenth birthday, I found her.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am cursed.
I slip into class, watching my step because tripping me is practically a sport. I take my seat in the back and start painting.
The dream again. A graveyard, cold mist curling around my ankles, a grave, and a hand breaking through the dirt.
I paint it from memory. The girl. The body rising.
Every time the hand reaches the surface, I wake up before I can see the face.
I’ve asked Lissa about it. She never answers.
The bell rings, and I stare at the painting. The air feels heavy, like something’s about to happen.
The forest is quieter than school ever is. The second I step under the trees, I can breathe again, like I’ve been holding it all day.
I kneel and pick an orchid. It shouldn’t be blooming.
A tear slips down my cheek. My mom used to call me her little wild orchid. I used to climb trees just to see how high I could go. Now I just keep my head down.
“You are not weak,” Lissa says softly. “This pack will learn that.”
“What do you mean?”
She goes quiet, just like that.
The wind shifts, and for a second, it feels like something is listening.
My watch beeps. “Shit.” Dinner.
I turn back toward the packhouse. The orchid trembles in my hand, and Lissa goes completely still.
“Run,” she whispers.
I don’t question it. I run.
Branches scrape my arms, and my lungs burn as the packhouse comes into view. I don’t stop until I’m inside the gates.
I head for the kitchen, still glancing over my shoulder. The hallway is empty, but the feeling isn’t.
I turn the corner too fast and slam into something solid. A hand grabs my arm.
“Careful.”
I look up.
The Beta.
Too close. Too calm.
“Where have you been, little omega?”
My throat goes dry. Even Lissa goes quiet.
Before I can answer, Margaret steps into the doorway, flour on her hands. “Carlissa.”
Her eyes flick to him, sharp. “I need her. The bread won’t bake itself.”
His gaze lingers too long before a slow smirk spreads across his face. “Of course.”
He walks off as if nothing happened.
I don’t move.
“Breathe, Carlissa,” Margaret says. “He’s gone.”
I nod.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” she mutters. “I would go to the Alpha… if it would matter.”
“Come on. We have dinner to make.”
I follow her into the kitchen.
The orchid is still in my hand.
Still warm.
