The unforgiving chill of the locker slammed into my spine for the third time that day, a familiar ache blooming across already tender bruises. Vivian’s cackle echoed, a cruel symphony as she taunted, "You're nothing but a waste of space loser and you will never be anything but a loser."

Her spit stung my cheek, and then she was gone, her laughter trailing behind her, leaving me to slide to the cold floor, hugging my knees. No one ever helped. One day, I swore, Vivian Stanson would pay.

Later, dinner was a quiet affair, my mother, Kelly, attempting small talk. "Where’s Dad?" I asked, knowing the answer before she spoke. "Oh Irina, you know your father cannot be with us all the time, he still has a kingdom to manage and he has to prepare for the war."

Being the Alpha's 'bastard child' was a secret burden. "Do you think I will ever get to meet my brother?" I ventured, my usual query. Mom's face hardened. "Irina, we have been over this and the answer is still no, you know what will happen if they find out the Alpha is your father." Then, a slip. "Then stop asking about Damien."

Damien. His name. The future Alpha. The brother I'd never met. My eighteenth birthday, and my own shifting, was only months away. The war was drawing closer, a constant hum of anxiety in the air.

That night, I woke to a recurring nightmare. Vivian. I crept to the bathroom, splashing water on my face. Mom’s bedroom door was wide open, her bed cold and undisturbed. Panic clawed at my throat. She was gone.

I was on the verge of mind-linking my father when the front door burst open. A rush of cold night air, an unfamiliar, intoxicating scent, and then… a man I didn't recognize, carrying my mother, limp and covered in blood. "What... I... uh... mom???" My voice was a choked whisper.