The echoes of a distant scream ripped through the silence of the night, yanking Ava violently from a recurring nightmare. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the phantom chill of sweat-soaked sheets. She sat up, chest heaving, the ghostly image of two wolves leaping at her father still seared behind her eyelids. It wasn't just a dream; it was a memory, sharp and cruel, of the war that had stolen her father and forced her mother to flee with her to the Mystic Shadow Pack.

“AVA, YOU WILL BE LATE.”

Her mother’s shout from downstairs jolted her back to the present. With a sigh, Ava dragged herself from bed, the weight of the past clinging to her like a shroud. A quick shower, then the familiar ritual of dressing: a loose white dress, hair pulled back, and the ever-present, oversized glasses. They were her shield, her disguise, a transparent barrier she hoped would make her invisible to the judging eyes of the world. She didn't want attention, not as an Omega, not in this pack.

After a quick breakfast and a motherly warning about finding her mate, Ava was out the door. The bus ride to Mystic Shadow University was a blur of nervous anticipation. As she stepped onto campus, the usual whispers and dismissive glances followed her. She lowered her head, accustomed to the 'nerd' label, and made her way to class. Her friend Abigail was already there, waving her over. The lesson began, but the girls behind them were already lost in whispers about Ian Dawson, the Head Alpha's son, the one every boy feared and every girl desired. Ava tried to ignore them, tried to focus, but a strange flutter in her chest betrayed her indifference. She couldn't deny it; whenever she saw him, her heart picked up an unsettling rhythm.