In the pool, Luke's form suddenly swelled. His golden eyes burned like miniature suns. His wolf form was larger than I'd ever seen, his fur as black as midnight. The other warriors also seemed empowered, quickly overwhelming the rogue wolves.

But the price of the magic came due instantly. Dizzy, I collapsed to my knees, blood trickling from my nose onto the floor.

"What have you done?"

Mom's voice was an ice pick, stabbing through me. She stood in the doorway, a fresh bottle in her hand.

"I—"

She lunged, grabbing my hair and dragging me away from the pool. "You stink of werewolf! You used magic to help them?"

When the bottle connected with my head, I heard the glass shatter. Then came the fists, the kicks, and the vilest insults.

"Are you that desperate? Throwing yourself at those beasts?"

"You're just like your father! An ungrateful wretch!"

"I should have smothered you in your cradle!"

I curled into a ball, letting her rage wash over me. The werewolf healing would make the physical damage disappear soon enough, but the wounds inside were being torn open, again and again. Finally, she wore herself out and stumbled upstairs.

I struggled to my feet, escaped onto my bike, and fled into the woods. At the edge of our territory was a secret clearing, a refuge I'd discovered as a child.

Lying in the grass, rain and tears mingled on my cheeks. Why did I have to be the child of a witch and a werewolf? Why couldn't I have a normal life? Why did Luke have to be my fated mate?

These questions festered in my heart like venomous snakes.

I don't know how long I lay there before I sensed a presence. I opened my eyes and met a pair of golden ones.

A massive black wolf stood at the edge of the clearing. His fur was the color of a moonless night, with only a single crescent-shaped patch of white on his chest. I didn't recognize this wolf—but he didn't seem hostile.

He didn't seem interested in revealing his identity either. He just padded closer and settled down beside me.

"Are you here to mock me too?" I whispered, my fingers tangling unconsciously in the grass. "Look, the pathetic half-wolf, half-witch freak. Even her own mother hates her."

The black wolf let out a soft whine and gently nudged my hand with his nose.

"She hates me, you know? All because I look like my dad. Her so-called 'soulmate'." I gave a bitter laugh. "Sometimes I think maybe mates are just a curse. Look at my mom. Look at me."

The rain soaked the wolf's fur, but he didn't seem to care, his focus entirely on me.

"And Luke... He's too good. Unbelievably good. Every time he gets close, I just want to run. Not because he's scary, but because I don't deserve him."

The wolf suddenly nudged my cheek with his head. The gesture was so intimate it caught in my throat.

"I can't even tell him how I feel. What if he abandons me, just like my dad left my mom? What if he only loves the *idea* of a fated mate, and not the real, messy me?"

I leaned against his warm fur, soaking in the rare sense of peace.

"Sometimes I just wish I could disappear."

The wolf responded with a low, warning growl, curling his body around me in a protective circle. The gesture made me want to cry for reasons I couldn't name.

I must have fallen asleep. Sometime later, I drifted into a hazy awareness—the feel of coarse fur was gone, replaced by the warmth of human skin.

Luke was holding me, his voice a soft prayer in the dark.

"Amelia," he murmured, "my dear Amelia. You are so beautiful. So strong. I love you. From the depths of my soul, I love you. I will always protect you, whether you believe me or not."

His lips brushed against my forehead. In that moment, had I been fully awake, all the pain would have been worth it.

Moonlight, liquid and silver, poured over the secret clearing, draping everything in a dreamlike veil. Curled against Luke—in his powerful, warm, black wolf form—the day's grievances and anxieties seemed to dissolve in the steady rhythm of his breath and the clean, minty scent of his fur.

Hovering at the edge of sleep, I felt a soft, warm pressure on my forehead. It felt like human lips, brief as a butterfly's touch, yet weighted with unmistakable tenderness. *Luke?* I struggled to open my eyes, to confirm it wasn't a dream, but heavy eyelids dragged me back down into oblivion.

Unbeknownst to me, at the edge of the clearing, hidden within the tree line, Tabitha Amota was watching, her eyes narrowed to slits. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks. She watched Luke lean down, saw the profile that was always so cold and distant with her soften with a near-reverent tenderness for that new, worthless nobody, Amelia Marsh! Jealousy, a venomous vine, twisted around her heart, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Luke seemed to sense something. He frowned, glancing toward the woods, then swiftly shifted back into the formidable black wolf, encircling me once more within his protective embrace. A moment later, as if compelled to deal with an intrusion, he rose and melted silently into the darkness.

The moment he was gone, Tabitha exploded from the trees like an enraged lioness, her high heels crushing the peaceful silence of the clearing. She gave me no time to react. In a wave of cloying perfume, she swung her arm back and put her whole body into it—

*Smack!*

A stinging slap landed hard across my face! The sharp pain jolted me violently from sleep. Clutching my cheek, I stared up, disoriented and horrified, at Tabitha, her face contorted with rage.

"You bitch! You slut!" Her shrill voice shredded the quiet night. "Who said you could touch him?! Luke is *mine*! A piece of gutter trash like you isn't fit to even look at him! You've just confuse ed him with your pathetic, playing-victim act!"