Drowning in Destiny
Today is the day I kill myself, and honestly, the only thing I regret is that I won't be around to see the look on the pack's faces when they realize I'm gone.
I stood at the jagged edge of the Raven's Drop, the wind whipping my hair across my face like a lash. Below, the water churned a violent, obsidian expanse that looked more like crushed glass than a river. It was a long way down, a fall that promised a definitive end to eighteen years of being the "human" mistake in a family of apex predators.
Being eighteen in the pack was supposed to be a milestone of strength and transformation, but for me, it was just the anniversary of my inadequacy.
While they spent the morning shifting into snarling, powerful forms and tearing through the forest, I had spent mine hiding, listening to the heavy thud of their paws against the earth and the hollow ache of being the only one who couldn't join them. I was the soft-skinned outlier, the useless girl who couldn't even run with the pack, let alone hunt.
The cliff edge crumbled slightly under my converse, a few pebbles skittering into the void before disappearing entirely.
My heart hammered against my ribs, not with the adrenaline of a hunt, but with the cold, rhythmic terror of the inevitable. I didn't know how to swim, a pathetic irony that felt like the final punchline to a long, cruel joke. It was perfect, really. No chance of a struggle, no instinctual thrashing to keep my head above the waves. Just gravity, impact, and the silence I had been craving since I was old enough to understand why they looked at me with such pity.
I closed my eyes, took one last breath of the damp, pine-scented air, and leaned forward, waiting for the world to let me go.
I should have shifted when I turned sixteen. That was the age, the threshold where the wolf claims you and you finally stop being a liability. But the moon ignored me. Every year since, I've sat in the dark, wishing and hoping to fucking turn, to finally feel the bones snap and the fur sprout, to stop being the broken vessel that cost my mother her life. I wasn't just useless; I was a murderer. I was the reason her heartbeat stopped the moment mine began, and the pack had never let me forget it.
The Alpha's decree had been simple: Stay out of sight, especially when the visiting packs are here. I was the pack's dirty little secret, the human girl who haunted their halls like a bad omen. They made sure I felt every ounce of their disdain, whether through sharp, dismissive glares or the way the air turned cold when I entered a room.
My sister, Clare, was the only one who bothered to play along with the delusion, though I wasn't sure if it was out of kindness or a twisted sense of pity.
Every year, on the eve of my birthday, just minutes before the clock struck midnight, she would appear at my door with a steaming mug of tea. "Any minute now," she'd whisper, her eyes full of a soft, agonizing hope that never seemed to wane, no matter how many times the sunrise proved us both wrong. It was a ritual a pathetic, hollow cycle of hope and bitter disappointment that felt more like a burial service than a celebration.
Now, with the cut-off age of eighteen only moments away, I wasn't waiting for a miracle. I was waiting for the clock to confirm my sentence. I stared at my watch, the glowing numbers ticking down with a mechanical, mocking precision.
11:59
One minute left. One minute until I turned eighteen and the last shred of "potential" evaporated. I stood on the edge of the cliff, the wind tearing at my clothes, waiting to see if the universe would finally grant me the wolf I was born to be.
The air stayed thin and silent. No surge of power. No shift. Just the cold reality of my own skin.
"See?" I whispered to the empty, uncaring void. "Nothing. Pathetic, like always."
Tears blurred my vision, turning the jagged, black rocks below into a distorted smear of shadow. My heart was slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird, and for the first time, the paralyzing terror of what I was about to do actually hit me. I was a coward who couldn't even die right.
Snap.
The sound of a twig breaking behind me was sharp as a gunshot in the morning silence. I flinched, my heel slipping on the loose gravel. I spun around, my breath hitching, expecting to see my sister or some pack member coming to drag me back to my life of misery and their relentless abuse.
Instead, I saw him.
He was massive a stranger I've never seen, draped in the dark, expensive colors of a visiting Alpha. He stood near the tree line, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle. A sudden, strange heat surged through my veins; it was a burning, frantic sensation I had never felt before.
"Get away from the edge," his voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through my chest.
He took a step forward, his hands outstretched as if trying to calm a wild animal. "Whatever you're doing, stop. Come away from the ledge and come to me. Now"
"Leave me alone!" I screamed, my voice cracking. The heat in my blood was turning into an inferno, agonizing and sudden. My bones felt like they were vibrating, searing through my marrow. "You don't know who I am. I'm just a failure. Just go back to your pack and let me finish this!"
"I know exactly who you are," he rasped, his scent hitting me pine, rain, and something ancient that made my head spin. He lunged forward to grab me, but his movement was the final trigger. My legs buckled, and I tumbled backward, hitting the water with a bone-jarring impact.
The shock knocked the wind out of me, and the deep, freezing current instantly dragged me under.
Then, it began.
The shift I had waited eighteen years for was finally happening, but it wasn't the graceful transition the stories promised. It was a violent, tearing agony.
Underwater, my bones snapped and reassembled with a sickening crunch. I tried to scream, but the river water filled my lungs, turning my cry into a choked, bubbling thrash. My skin burned as if it were being flayed, and every human instinct evaporated, replaced by the raw, feral terror of a body betrayed by its own biology.
I was drowning, my lungs burning, thrashing blindly as my claws began to rip through my own skin.
Suddenly, the water exploded above me. A dark, powerful shape dove into the churn, moving with impossible speed through the freezing depths. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me upward with brutal force.
As my head broke the surface, I coughed up a lungful of water, my eyes snapping open to find the stranger's face inches from mine, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, golden light. He was dragging me toward the shore, his face a mask of shock and possessive fury.
"I've got you," he growled against the roar of the river, the realization of what was happening dawning on him. "Fight it, little wolf! Don't you dare let go!"
The transition had been a blind, agonizing blur of white-hot pain, and then nothing.
When I finally dragged myself back to consciousness, the world was too sharp. Smells hit me like physical blows: the wet musk of damp earth, the heavy, metallic tang of fear, and the overwhelming scent of dozens of wolves crowded into a tight circle.
I wasn't a girl anymore. I was a mass of fur and four trembling, unfamiliar legs. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled, and that's when I saw my reflection in a nearby puddle. My fur was like freshly fallen snow, blindingly white against the dark, muddy forest floor.
I was a ghost. A rare, white wolf with blue eyes.
"Look at her," a voice rumbled in my mind, layered and distorted by the collective presence of the pack. "The useless one, suddenly bathed in the moon's favor."
I scrambled back, my tail tucked firmly between my legs, my eyes scanning the crowd. They were all there: the pack members who had spent years making me feel smaller than the dirt beneath their paws. The Beta and Gamma stood at the front, their hackles raised, their expressions a mix of confusion and deep-seated resentment.
Then, my eyes locked on him. Nathaniel, my pack's Alpha. He stood tall, his gaze fixed on me with a flicker of something unreadable. Beside him stood my sister, her hand gripping his arm possessively. They were "chosen" mates, a bond forged through years of proximity and status, not the soul-deep connection of fate. Everyone knew the history: Nathaniel had lost his true fated mate to a rogue attack years ago, and he had filled that void with my sister.
But there was another. The visiting Alpha. The one the rumors whispered about the one who had pulled me from the river. He stood a few feet away, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that made my heart hammer against my ribs.
"Cassandra?" Nathaniel's voice echoed in the telepathic link. "How? You're human. You've always been human."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The noise of their thoughts was a cacophony of judgment and shock. My sister's eyes were wide with shock and something else I cannot pinpoint.
"Get away from her," the visiting Alpha snarled at the pack, his voice vibrating with a lethal edge.
Panic, cold and sharp, ignited in my chest. They weren't looking at me with awe; they were looking at me like a prize to be fought over or a threat to be neutralized. I didn't belong to them, and I didn't want to be their "rare" discovery.
I didn't think. I lunged.
I bolted through a gap in their ranks, my new, powerful muscles propelling me forward with a speed that startled me. I heard the Alpha, the visiting one shout my name, a sound that felt like an anchor catching on my soul, but I didn't stop. I tore through the dense brush, my white coat a beacon in the shadows, running until my lungs burned and the voices of my pack faded into the distant, howling wind.
I was alone, I was terrified, and for the first time in eighteen years, I was fast enough to outrun the life they had built for me.
I sprinted until my paws were raw and the forest became a blur of dark pines and silver moonlight. I didn't know where I was going; I just knew I had to be anywhere other than that clearing, anywhere other than under the weight of those judging eyes.
But my wolf this new, wild thing that had just erupted from my bones, wasn't cooperating. She was restless, pacing behind my ribs, her instinct pulling at my consciousness like a magnetic tether.
Stop, she whimpered, her voice clear and utterly feminine, vibrating directly into my brain. We have to go back.
Go back?
I thought, my mental voice shrill with disbelief as I skidded to a halt in a small, moonlit glade. I shook my head, my ears flattening.
Are you insane? They'll tear us apart. They don't want me; they want the novelty of a white coat.
They are our mates, she insisted, her tone calm, immovable, and terrifyingly certain.
I froze. My breath hitched in my throat, a ragged, canine sound.
Mates? You mean mate? Singular?
I thought, my heart thumping against my ribs.
You mean the visiting Alpha? The one who pulled me from the river?
No, my wolf sighed, a sensation of warmth spreading through my chest that felt sickeningly like belonging.
Not just him.
I felt a jolt of pure, unadulterated panic. The scent hit me then, not just the pine, rain, and ancient forest I'd smelled on the stranger, but a second scent, one I'd been familiar with my entire life, hidden beneath layers of pack politics and my sister's perfume. The smell of cedar, old books, and the cold authority of my own Alpha.
Nathaniel?
I felt like I was choking on the very air.
That's impossible. He's my Alpha. He's with my sister. He... he hates me.
He is ours, she purred, the connection deepening, making my knees buckle.
And so is the visiting alpha. We were never meant to be human, Cassandra.
I let out a low, mourning howl, half-fear and half-fury. I wasn't just a failure anymore. I wasn't just the pack's secret. I was a disaster. I had somehow managed to turn into a rare white wolf, only to find out I was tethered not to one powerful predator
But to two.
No, I growled, the vibration of the word rattling my new, powerful frame. I would rather rot in this forest than be a trophy for either of them.
My wolf whined, a high, piercing sound that echoed in the back of my mind. She was pressing against my consciousness, her instincts practically vibrating with the urge to roll over, to show her belly, to return to the intoxicating scents of pine and cedar. She wanted them. She recognized them as the missing pieces of our soul.
Shut up, I commanded her, my mental voice sharp with the trauma of eighteen years of rejection. Their kind are the ones who made me feel invisible. He and the pack are the ones who stood by while the pack treated me like a disease. I am not going back.
I pushed my body harder, my white fur flashing through the dense undergrowth like a streak of lightning. My wolf fought me, clawing now at the edges of my mind, her desire creating a sickening dissonance with my own fury. She loved them; she craved their presence. She was actively sabotaging my escape, making my limbs feel sluggish and heavy, trying to steer me back toward the clearing.
I didn't hear them coming. They were apex predators, silent as shadows, and my wolf, the traitorous thing, had stopped warning me. She was too busy basking in the rising intensity of their approach.
The hunt lasted for hours.
I ran until my lungs burned like they were filled with crushed glass, and my paws were raw and bleeding against the rough forest floor. Every time I thought I had lost them, the rustle of leaves or the shift of wind would bring their scents back closer this time. I tried to double back, to hide in the deep ravines, to exhaust them, but they were tireless. They weren't just chasing me; they were herding me, cutting off every escape route together, their dominance pressing down on me until my own wolf whimpered in a mixture of terror and desire.
The sun began to dip, casting long, bruised shadows across the trees. I was exhausted, my strength finally beginning to fail.
As I rounded a massive, moss-covered oak, I finally made a mistake: I tripped, my front paw catching in a tangle of roots. I went down hard, skidding across the dirt.
Before I could scramble up, a massive, shadowy weight slammed into my side, pinning me. It was the visiting Alpha. He didn't speak; he just held me down with a terrifying, effortless precision, his heavy mouth clamped firmly over my neck. Moments later, Nathaniel arrived, silent and lethal, moving in to pin my hindquarters, his touch grounding and possessive.
"Submit," the command echoed in my head, a dual-layered, suffocating pressure that made my vision swim.
My wolf let out a submissive, desperate yelp, her resolve completely shattering. She abandoned me, flooding my brain with an overwhelming, primal need to obey them. She went limp beneath their hands, surrendering to the Alpha authority. I screamed internally, trying to claw my way back to control, but my body wouldn't listen.
My head was forced down, my muzzle pushed into the dirt, and then I felt the rough, intimate pressure of teeth at the back of my neck, a grip designed to force the wildness out of me. I shuddered, every muscle in my body trembling as I was forced to acknowledge the terrifying reality: my mind wanted to run, but my wolf was already home. My body shifted back.
"Don't," I choked out in my human voice, my body still trembling beneath their hands. "Please... don't do this."
They didn't pull away. Instead, they leaned in closer, their scents wrapping around me like a cage, letting the silence of the forest stretch out until I had no choice but to stop fighting.
The agony of the shift receded, leaving me shivering and exposed on the cold, damp forest floor. I curled into a tight ball, shielding myself, my face burning with a mortification that felt like it would swallow me whole. In my old pack, nakedness had been a weapon, a way to ensure I felt small, powerless, and perpetually ashamed. Their years of abuse are all over my body.
I didn't realize they had moved until I heard the rustle of fabric. My Alpha stepped toward a nearby supply cache hidden within the hollow of a massive tree, pulling out a bundle of emergency clothing. He turned back, his expression unreadable as he tossed a clean, oversized basketball jersey toward me. Slipping on shorts.
As the fabric landed in the dirt, the strange Alpha, let out a low, guttural snarl. He stepped forward, his eyes darting to the jersey. He snatched the item from the ground before I could touch it, tossing it aside with a look of pure, territorial disdain.
"I don't like it," the stranger growled, his voice vibrating with a raw, possessive authority that made the air in the clearing grow heavy unfazed by his own nakedness. "I don't like her wearing other mens clothes."
Nathaniel eyes flicked to the vistor, cold and challenging, but he didn't back down. "She is in shock, Augustus. She's been through hell today. If wearing this makes her feel more comfortable, it's what we want. Her peace of mind is the priority, regardless of who provided the fabric."
Augustus loomed over me, his gaze searching my face for any sign of the girl who had been ready to jump off a cliff only hours ago. He seemed to realize the tension between us was only further fraying my nerves. He sighed, his posture dropping just a fraction.
"I know ...the scent bothers me too," Nathaniel conceded, his voice dropping to a low, rough rumble. He looked down at me, his eyes dark with a mix of regret and something else something that looked dangerously like devotion. "But she's been through enough. If she needs to wear it to feel safe, she will."
He reached out, his fingers hovering briefly near my shoulder before pulling back, as if he knew that touching me right now would be too much. "You are safe, Cassandra," he added, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. "You don't have to be afraid of being exposed, and you don't have to be afraid of us."
I looked between them the Alpha of my own pack who had ignored my existence for years and treated me like I was nothing, and the stranger I now know as Augustus who had dragged me from the river. I reached out and pulled the discarded jersey toward me, pulling it over my head with trembling hands. It was far too big, falling to my mid-thigh, but it provided a barrier between me and their intense, predatory stares. I was no longer being hunted, but as I stood there in the oversized clothes, I realized the cage hadn't vanished it had simply changed shape, and now, I had two wardens instead of an entire pack.
I stood there, swaying in the oversized jersey, my limbs feeling like lead weights. The adrenaline was evaporating, leaving behind a hollow, aching exhaustion and a hunger so sharp it felt like a claw in my stomach. My lungs burned with every breath, a lingering reminder of the near-drowning.
I looked at them Nathaniel, the Alpha I had known my whole life, and Augustus, whose scent was pine and storms. The absurdity of it all surged past my fear, bubbling up as a wave of uncharacteristic, delirious sass.
"Well," I started, my voice raspy but gaining a sharp, rhythmic edge. "Since you're clearly not going anywhere, and I'm going to my cabin, you two should probably figure something out about this 'rejection' business. Because I'm still not interested."
"I reject you, Nathaniel," I gasped, the words shaky but fueled by the cold, biting memory of everything I'd endured. I looked him dead in the eye, my voice gaining a desperate, jagged edge. "I don't want you. I don't want my sister's sloppy seconds."
The forest went deathly silent. Nathaniel's eyes darkened to a lethal, bottomless obsidian. He didn't flinch, nor did he accept the insult. Instead, he leaned into my ear, his breath hot and smelling of ozone and pine, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a shudder through my frame.
"A rejection requires two parties, Cassandra. Especially between high-ranking wolves. I will never agree to it."
He drew back, his gaze raking over me with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. "You think I want her? You think she compares to you?" His tone was deadly calm, stripped of any pretense. "If it makes you feel better, I'll burn every memory. I'll cut off anything she's ever touched. I will strip my life of everything that isn't you."
Beside him, Augustus, a stranger whose presence felt like an approaching storm, stiffened. He was incensed, his golden eyes darting between me and Nathaniel with a territorial intensity that made the air feel thin. He knew the truth of what I was: a rare, white wolf and he looked at me not with the dismissal I was used to, but with a hunger that was arguably more terrifying.
"She's already broken," Augustus growled, his voice vibrating with a raw, predatory command. "You ruined her, Nathaniel. You let them treat her like garbage, and now you think you can simply overwrite the past."
"I don't have to overwrite it," Nathaniel retorted, his eyes never leaving my face. "I just have to own the future."
I stood there, shivering in the cold, feeling the crushing weight of their attention. I wasn't just a girl in the woods anymore; I was the focus of a silent, lethal war between two men who both believed they had the right to decide exactly how my life and my rejection would play out.
I wasn't done. I turned my gaze to him, my eyebrows arched. "honestly, Nathaniel? With how loud you were with my sister—I mean, really, the whole pack practically had front-row seats—I don't know. Are you going to cut that off, too? Or are you just planning on keeping the drama?"
Nathaniel looked as if he'd been struck, his expression oscillating between lethal fury and a strange, haunted guilt.
I then pivoted to the visiting Alpha, my expression softening just a fraction, though my tone remained biting. "And you," I said, pointing a shaky finger at him. "Thank you for the rescue. Truly. But you could do better, obviously. I'm a disaster, a failure, and I'm currently a walking medical emergency. Maybe you two should just date each other and leave me out of this whole 'mate' nonsense."
I turned, intending to march or rather, stumble into the darkness, desperate to find a place to collapse. I didn't care where; under a bush, in a ditch, anywhere that didn't have their eyes on me.
"I'm hungry, I'm exhausted, and I'm going to sleep," I announced over my shoulder, my bravado already slipping as my vision began to swim. "Don't follow me. I mean it."
I didn't even get five steps.
Before I could weave around a thicket of ferns, I heard the crunch of leaves behind me rhythmic, heavy, and persistent. They were shadowing me. They didn't even try to hide it, and they didn't need to. They knew exactly how much damage my first shift had done; they knew my body was struggling just to keep me upright.
"You're not going to 'take care of yourself' by collapsing in a ditch, Cassandra," Nathaniel's voice rumbled from directly behind me, cold and impossibly close.
"Hungry," Augustus added, his voice a low, gravelly promise. "We have a camp nearby. You will eat, you will sleep, and you will stop acting like your life is a series of jokes meant to deflect the fact that you're crashing."
I tried to speed up, but my knees gave a traitorous wobble. I could feel their presence like a physical heat at my back, both of them keeping pace, refusing to let me stumble into the dark alone. They were watching, waiting for me to finally admit I couldn't do this by myself.
I stopped walking, turning back to face them, my expression hardening despite the exhaustion that threatened to pull me under.
"I'm serious, Nathaniel," I said, my voice sharp and unwavering. "I don't want any part of you that's touched her to touch me. It's gross. It's... contaminated. So stay back and leave me the hell alone!"
I didn't wait for his reaction. I turned and forced my leaden legs to carry me to the edge of the clearing, toward that dilapidated, drafty house Nathaniel had forced me to live in. It was barely a structure, a monument to how little he had ever cared about my wellbeing, but it was the only place I knew.
I slammed the front door shut locking it, my heart hammering against my ribs, and threw the rusty bolt. "Leave me alone!" I shouted at the wood, my voice cracking. "I can handle my own food! And my fucking self!"
I leaned against the door, breathing hard. The silence of the house was suffocating, but it was my own. I stumbled toward the tiny, cramped kitchenette, my head spinning as if the world were tilting on its axis. My stomach cramped, a painful, hollow ache that made me feel faint. I grabbed a rusted pan, trying to focus on making something anything to stop the shaking in my hands.
The floor seemed to sway beneath my feet. I reached for a jar of meager supplies, but my coordination failed. My elbow clipped a heavy ceramic bowl, sending it crashing to the floor in a spray of shards.
The sound was like a gunshot in the tiny space, and I collapsed against the counter, my vision tunneling.
I didn't even hear the front door fly off its hinges.
The air in the kitchen shifted instantly, heavy with the scent of pine and cedar. They were here.
"Enough," Augustus growled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying mix of relief and fury.
Before I could even protest, they were moving. They ignored the mess, ignoring the fact that I had just ordered them out. Nathaniel moved with a lethal grace, sweeping me aside with a gentle, firm hand that left no room for argument. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the sorry state of my pantry.
"There's nothing here but rot," Nathaniel snarled, his voice tight with a newfound, dangerous edge. He looked at Augustus. "She's starving, and you're the one with the faster transit wolf. Go to the pack house. Bring back the some meals in the kitchen—if you have anyone question you, tell him I sent you."
"And you?" the Augustus retorted, heading to the door to leave.
Nathaniel's gaze landed on me, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I'm staying. I'm not letting her out of my sight until she's fed and stable. If she can't stand, I'll hold her. If she needs to sleep, I'll be the one to watch the door."
I tried to stand, to tell them they had no right, but my legs were shaking so violently I had to sink back into the chair I don't even remember moving to. They were working in a lethal, synchronized rhythm, these men who had never stood in this kitchen before, moving like they owned the place, completely disregarding my protests. I felt small, trapped, and for the first time in years, completely overwhelmed by the terrifying weight of being someone else's priority.
The kitchen felt suffocating, and the constant hum of my alpha's predatory energy was fraying my last nerve. I needed to escape, even if it was just into the haze of a high. I remembered the small, chipped cookie jar on the top shelf of the cabinet beside me the only place I'd ever been able to hide anything from the pack enforcers.
I stood up, my knees wobbling, and reached for it. My fingers curled around the ceramic, and I pulled it down, fishing out the blunt I'd stashed inside. I fumbled for my lighter, my hands shaking so badly that the flame sputtered twice before catching. I brought the tip to my lips, needing the release, needing to feel like I was in control of my own brain for a single second. I sat down the chair creaking slightly.
But I never got the inhale.
The air in the room didn't just shift; it felt like it was sucked out of the space entirely. Nathaniel was on me in a heartbeat, his hand closing around my wrist with a hard, brief grip. He didn't even look at the blunt; he just snatched it from my lips with his other hand, his movements fluid and terrifyingly fast.
"Very naughty, Cassandra," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a jolt of alarm through me.
He didn't yell. Instead, he flicked his wrist, and the blunt flew across the room, landing in the sink. He turned the faucet on, watching it soak into useless, soggy pulp.
Rude ass
Stupid ass alpha
Leave me alone!!! I scream intenally, shaking in the chair.
He leaned in, his scent of cedar and rain overwhelming my senses.
"You've been through a very traumatic first shift, your body is in the middle of a massive recovery, and you think this is a good idea?" He looked me over, his eyes traveling across my face with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. "I cannot wait until you're fully out of this first stage. It gets easier—the chaos in your head quiets down with your wolf, and the physical agony fades after your first couple of shifts. But until then, I can handle you. And believe me, if and when it's needed, I will."
I pushed against his chest, trying to maintain some shred of my earlier defiance. "Handle me? What do you mean by that? I'm not a child, Nathaniel. I don't need you to 'handle' anything for me. What I need if for you to get out of my sight."
Nathaniel stepped even closer, his body heat radiating through the oversized jersey. He didn't look angry; he looked hungry, his gaze scanning me with a focus that felt like he was memorizing every inch of my resistance. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, a touch that was both terrifyingly authoritative and maddeningly gentle.
"You'll figure it out," he whispered, his voice dropping to a promise that sent a shiver straight down my spine. "Soon enough, you'll realize exactly how much control you've been missing, and how much you're going to need us to help you maintain it. You just have to learn to get along with your wolf."
Augustus, who had been silently watching from the door just getting back his chest heaving, looked up at me. His hands full of bags. He didn't say a word, but the way his golden eyes darkened and fixed on me made it clear he agreed with every word Nathaniel had said. I stood there, trapped between them, suddenly realizing that their version of "handling" me wasn't about the blunt at all; it was about stripping away my independence until I had no choice but to rely on them.
Fuck that
