Excerpt 1
Wyatt
I run toward the basket at full speed. Sweat runs into my eyes, my heart pounds against my ribs. The squeak of my sneakers on the polished wood echoes through the gym as I dodge left, then right, causing Davidson to stumble across the floor.
My muscles burn with every step, but I run faster and faster.
The basket looms in front of me. I jump up, the ball an extension of my arm, and slam it through the hoop with such force that the backboard shakes.
For a split second, everything is silent as I float in the air. Peaceful. Then gravity pulls me back down and I fall back to earth. I land on the balls of my feet, ready for more.
“Damn it, Howland!” Coach Harold’s voice booms through the gym. “Save that for the game!”
I ignore him and turn back to my defensive stance. My eyes scan the surroundings, tracking movements and calculating angles. Today, everything inside me feels wrong—too tense, too hot, too close to the surface. It’s as if my skin will burst if someone so much as looks at me the wrong way.
Across the hall, JJ catches my eye and raises an eyebrow. He knows. Of course he knows. He can probably smell the anger radiating from me in waves.
The ball goes from Miller to Reeves and then back to Miller. I watch him, my muscles tense, waiting for the right moment to strike. When Miller hesitates for just a fraction of a second, I lunge forward to intercept the pass. But Reeves is faster. His elbow slams into my ribs as he snatches the ball and takes off toward our basket.
Something inside me snaps. In three steps, I’m on him, ramming him so hard in the side that he slides across the floor. The ball bounces away—forgotten. Reeves looks up at me, his eyes wide with shock, but it quickly turns to anger.
“What the hell, Wyatt?” He scrambles to his feet, fists clenched.
I step closer, my voice sinking to a growl that only he can hear. “Touch that ball again and you’ll be dribbling with broken fingers.”
His face turns pale. Even through the sweat and adrenaline, I can smell the fear seeping from his pores.
“Howland!” The coach’s whistle shrieks through the air. “To the bench! Now!”
I don’t move—still locked in a staring contest with Reeves. Behind me, I sense rather than see JJ and Holden approaching, ready to intervene if necessary.
Coach Harold storms in wearing his old North Hollow High T-shirt, his face red with rage. “I said bench, Howland! This isn’t the damn UFC!”
I hold Reeves’ gaze for three more seconds—just long enough to show him that I’ve decided to leave and no one is forcing me to stay—then I turn and stride toward the sideline. The coach follows me, his clipboard clutched between his white-knuckled fingers.
“What’s wrong with you today?” He lowers his voice and glances at the other players to make sure they’re still practicing. “I’ve never seen you play so unfairly, not even against Stowe.”
I shrug and wipe the sweat from my forehead with my forearm. “I was just focused, Coach.”
“Focused is good. Assault is not.” He sighs and looks at his watch. “Practice is over for today anyway. Go take a shower, cool off, and come back tomorrow with a clear head. You’re the captain, Wyatt. The guys look up to you.”
I nod because I don’t trust myself to say something I’ll regret later. The coach blows the whistle to end practice and the team disperses. Reeves gives me a wide berth as he heads for the locker room. Only JJ and Holden stay behind and wait for me at the water cooler.
“What a show, Captain.” Holden grins and throws me a towel. “I think Reeves wet his pants.”
I catch the towel and wipe my face. “He was in my way.”
“Looks like we were all in the way today.” JJ leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “You play like one of Raymond’s brainless football thugs. All power, no finesse.”
“Watch out,” I warn, but I don’t mean it. Not with JJ.
Holden laughs, and I immediately recognize his annoyingly persistent look. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? In the first drill, you almost knocked Davidson’s head off, and now Reeves? Are you trying to take out the entire starting lineup before the season has even started?”
I grab my water bottle and drink it down in long gulps. But the cold liquid can’t quench the heat bubbling under my skin. “I just wasn’t in the mood for a half-assed practice today.”
JJ narrows his eyes. “Does this have something to do with your new roommate?”
“No.”
“Of course not.” JJ raises one corner of his mouth. “It’s just pure coincidence that you’re willing to kill people the week your new sister moves in. Pure coincidence.”
“Speaking of which,” Holden begins as he shoulders his gym bag in the locker room, just like JJ. “Is she actually …”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I growl.
“What?” Holden raises his hands innocently as he grins. “I just wanted to ask if she’s hot. A simple question.”
“She’s not.” I shoulder my gym bag and walk to the exit door that leads directly to the parking lot. I need to get out of here. “She’s just a nerdy, spoiled girl from New York.”
JJ and Holden join me, JJ on my left, Holden on my right. They flank me as if I’m really going to lose control.
“Have you met her yet?” JJ asks.
“No.” I push open the door and squint as the late afternoon light hits my eyes. The air outside is cooling quickly, autumn in Vermont already making its presence felt at the end of summer. “But my dad and Evelyn talk about her all the time. For weeks, it’s been nothing but ‘Romy this’ and ‘Romy that’.”
“So you must know something,” Holden presses. “Tell me. Just between friends.”
I sigh because I know he won’t let it go. “She’s seventeen. A junior, like us. She got kicked out of an expensive private school in New York because she skipped class too often or something like that, I don’t know exactly. Apparently she was too busy with her ‘online activities’ or whatever.” I make quotation marks with my fingers. “Evelyn and her ex-husband decided she has to live here now. That’s it.”
Holden’s thumbs fly across the screen of his phone. “Online activities, huh? What, something like OnlyFans?”
“She’s seventeen, Parker,” JJ repeats, rolling his eyes. “Not everything revolves around sex.”
“Says the guy who spent the whole summer with his tongue down Sasha Ellwood’s throat.” Holden doesn’t look up from his phone. “Wait a minute—Romy Moore, right?”
“Yes,” I reply, giving JJ a skeptical look. “Why?”
Holden holds up his phone, which displays a news article. It shows a photo of a girl with dark blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders.
She’s wearing a black band T-shirt and her face is partially obscured by a professional gaming headset. But what catches my attention are her eyes—blue and intense. They stare directly at the screen as if they want to kill it.
“Is that her?” Holden asks.
“I think so.”
Holden whistles softly and reads from the article. “Seventeen-year-old Romy Moore led her team to victory at the East Coast Championships last month, securing $25,000 in prize money and cementing her status as one of the best female gamers on the competitive scene. Moore, known online as QueenRogue, has over 300,000 followers on streaming platforms, where she showcases her skills in various battle royale and strategy games.” He looks up and grins. “Dude, your new sister is famous.”
“She’s not my sister,” I reply curtly. “And she’s still a nerd.”
“A hot nerd,” Holden corrects me, looking back at the photo. “With 300,000 followers and $25,000 in prize money. If you’re not interested, can I give it a shot? I could use a sugar mama.”
JJ hits Holden on the back of the head. “You’re talking about his sister, asshole!”
“She’s not my sister, damn it!” The words explode out of me and echo across the empty parking lot. “Evelyn is not my mother, whether she’s my father’s mate or not.”
JJ holds my gaze without flinching. “So you’d be okay with Holden hitting on her?”
“I don’t care what he does,” I sneer. “And if she goes for him, she’s dumber than I thought.”
“Did you just insult me?” Holden pretends to be offended for a moment, but then his stupid grin reappears.
“Wyatt.” JJ raises an eyebrow. “She’s part of your family now. She’s your sister.”
“That’s easy for you to say. What about you?” I turn to JJ. “Just because Claire and your father got married, Lennon is suddenly your sister? Do you share a bunk bed now and braid each other’s hair?”
JJ’s expression darkens. “That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s not? According to your logic …”
“We’re definitely siblings now,” a melodic, amused voice cuts in. “Didn’t you hear? We even have matching friendship bracelets.”
Lennon Johnson approaches us from the direction of the gym. Her red hair glows in the late afternoon sun as if she were a miniature version of the devil.
JJ doesn’t turn to face her, but I can see his jaw muscles tense. “What do you want, Lennon?”
She smiles and deliberately pushes herself close to him. “Just wanted to check on my favorite brother. You seemed so excited during practice.” Her gaze darts to me, then to Holden. “Wyatt wasn’t the only one who played hard today.”
JJ says nothing, which only seems to encourage her.
“What’s that?” She points to Holden’s phone, which still has Romy’s photo on it. “Is that your new flame, Holden? Aren’t you usually interested in older women?”
“That,” Holden says with a theatrical gesture, “is Wyatt’s new sister. She’s moving in this week.”
“She’s not my sister,” I growl, but Holden ignores me.
“Her name is Romy,” he continues, showing Lennon the screen. “What do you think? Is it worth being charming?”
Lennon looks at the photo, tilting her head slightly. “She’s cute,” she decides. “I like the band T-shirt. Is she a fan of The Banshees, or is she just wearing it to look cool?”
“I just asked that,” Holden lies coldly. “But Wyatt says she’s just a spoiled nerd from New York.”
“Do whatever you want,” I say, but my voice sounds rougher than I intended. “Just leave me alone about it.”
“You should be careful, though,” JJ adds. “She’s a clueless human.”
Lennon frowns. “Wait a minute, she’s clueless? Even though her mother is your father’s mate? Scott has already marked Evelyn, hasn’t he? That makes no sense at all.”
I point to Holden. “Ask Alpha Junior here. His father made the call.”
Holden shrugs. “Dad’s pretty laid back about most things, but you know how he is about security. Especially with people who pose a risk.”
“What do you mean?” Lennon asks. “What kind of risk?”
JJ turns his head toward her and narrows his eyes. “Why are you so damn nosy?”
“Why are you always so grumpy?” she retorts. “Are you still mad about Sasha?”
JJ’s gaze hardens. “Shut up, Lennon.”
She steps closer to him, so close that I can see JJ’s nostrils flare with anger. “Go ahead and force me, Wolfi.”
“Bitch,” he growls back.
Lennon smiles slowly and dangerously. “You love me. Just admit it.”
The tension between them is, as always, like watching a bomb that could explode at any moment.
I clear my throat so it doesn’t actually explode, like last time when Lennon provoked JJ so much that he almost transformed in front of everyone.
“According to Grayson, Romy is a flight risk. She’s a problem child and could take off as soon as she turns eighteen or graduates. There’s no point in taking her in if she’s just going to run away with all our secrets.”
Lennon looks confused. “Do you know how unfair that is?”
“Just ask my father directly,” Holden explains. “Evelyn already tried, and it didn’t work. She was even at our house last week to put in a good word for her. It didn’t work.”
Lennon turns to me. “Is that why you’re so pissed off? Because now you can’t transform in the garden anymore, but have to walk three minutes?”
“Not your problem,” JJ says coldly. “And shouldn’t you be at cheerleading practice or something?”
“I skipped practice,” she says casually. “Lydia is working with the newbies today. Boring.” She moves closer to JJ and puts her hand on his arm. “Why? Are you worried about me?”
JJ shakes her hand off. “I’m wondering why you’re still here bothering us.”
Holden nods and stares into space for a few seconds too long, which tells me he’s up to something. “When is she even arriving? I want to make a good first impression.”
“She’s probably been here for an hour.”
