"Bloodline pairs, center ring!" Coach Garrick’s whistle pierced the muggy afternoon air. "Move! I want to see pack synchrony today. No excuses."

The turf crunched under dozens of heavy combat boots as the Lycan Academy students scrambled into position. Siblings found each other instantly, bumping shoulders and stretching out their limbs.

I stood at the edge of the training field, my fingers picking at the frayed hem of my gym shirt.

Ethan stood ten yards away, adjusting the leather bracers on his forearms. He didn't glance in my direction.

I forced my feet to move. Step by step, I crossed the distance, the hostile stares of my classmates burning into the side of my face.

"Ethan," I said, keeping my voice low.

He didn't look up. He yanked the strap on his right bracer tight.

"Coach Garrick called for sibling pairs," I tried again, stepping into his line of sight.

"Find someone else." His tone was flat, completely devoid of emotion.

"I can't. It's a bloodline drill."

"We don't share blood."

"You know what the rules are," I pushed, my frustration bubbling up. "Just for ten minutes. We don't even have to talk."

Ethan finally raised his head. His icy blue eyes locked onto mine, freezing the words in my throat.

"Hale!" Coach Garrick barked, striding toward us with a clipboard in hand. "Where is your partner? Get your sister in the ring."

"I'm running the drill alone," Ethan declared, his gaze never leaving my face.

Garrick frowned, tapping his pen against the metal clip. "Academy rules, Alpha. Blood pairs train together. It builds the pack bond. You need to show leadership."

"I am showing leadership," Ethan shot back. "By cutting the dead weight."

The surrounding chatter died instantly. Fifty pairs of ears tuned into the confrontation.

"She is registered as your ward-sister," Garrick warned, his voice dropping an octave. "Pair up. Now."

Ethan turned his entire body to face the instructor. "I don't need her. Don't let her drag me down."

A harsh silence blanketed the field.

"Are you refusing a direct order, Hale?" Garrick demanded.

"If the order includes her, yes." Ethan gestured toward me without actually looking at me. "I won't compromise my training for a half-breed who can't even hold a defensive stance. Fail me if you want."

"You're the future Alpha of this territory," Garrick said, his jaw tight.

"Exactly," Ethan replied, his voice ringing out loud enough for the entire class to hear. "Which means I choose who stands at my side. She isn't one of them."

He spun on his heel and walked toward the solo heavy bags at the far end of the arena.

I stood completely still. The afternoon sun beat down on my shoulders, but I felt nothing but freezing cold.

"Did he really just tell the Coach to fail him over her?" Chloe, the blonde girl from the hallway, laughed openly.

"I'd rather fail than carry a mutt, too," a bulky guy named Thorne sneered, bumping his fists together.

"She doesn't even have a full wolf form, does she?" another girl whispered loudly.

"Just a pathetic half-shift. Hey, Lila, want to fetch our water bottles instead?" Jace called out from the center ring.

Laughter erupted across the turf.

"Enough!" Garrick shouted, blowing his whistle again. "Focus on your own partners! Lila, get out of the way. Stand by the outer fence."

"Yes, Coach," I muttered.

I retreated to the chain-link barrier, pressing my spine against the cold metal. I crossed my arms over my chest, digging my fingernails into my own skin to anchor myself. I wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

The drills began. The air filled with the sounds of grunts, shifting bones, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the dirt. Pairs practiced synchronized takedowns, their movements fast and brutal.

I kept my eyes fixed on the dust swirling over the turf, refusing to look at Ethan.

"Watch your left flank!" Jace yelled across the field.

Thorne and his brother were sparring dangerously close to my corner. Thorne was massive, his muscles bulging as his eyes flashed gold. He lunged forward, aiming a heavy right hook.

His brother ducked, sweeping his leg out in a brutal counterattack.

Thorne lost his footing. His massive frame went airborne, hurtling backward out of the ring.

Straight toward me.

"Watch out!" someone screamed.

I froze. The sheer size of the wolf crashing toward me locked my joints in place. There was no time to dodge.

A sudden roar tore through the chaos.

It wasn't a warning shout. It was a raw, terrifying sound of pure aggression.

From the corner of my eye, a blur of motion erupted from the heavy bags. Ethan.

He launched himself across the turf. The speed was unnatural, tearing up chunks of grass beneath his boots. His arm extended, his fingers hooked into claws, reaching out to intercept Thorne's flying body. His eyes were completely black, fixated entirely on me.

He was coming to save me.

But midway across the field, his entire body jerked.

Ethan slammed his boots into the dirt, physically fighting his own forward momentum. His muscles bunched so tightly I heard the fabric of his shirt rip at the shoulders. He twisted his torso violently to the right, forcing himself to stop.

He locked his knees, dropped his outstretched hand, and snapped his head away, staring blankly at the empty bleachers.

*Crash.*

Thorne slammed into the chain-link fence inches from my left shoulder. The metal buckled outward under his weight. A jagged piece of wire snapped, slicing across my cheek.

I stumbled sideways, falling hard onto the dusty ground.

"Holy shit, Thorne, you okay?" Jace ran over, grabbing his friend’s arm.

"Yeah, yeah. Slipped," Thorne groaned, pulling himself out of the dented fence. He glanced down at me. "Move next time, mutt."

I didn't answer him. I touched my cheek. My fingers came away slick with bright red blood.

"Lila, you alive over there?" Coach Garrick called out from the center ring, barely pausing his stopwatch.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice hollow.

I didn't look at the coach. I didn't look at Thorne.

I looked at Ethan.

He stood exactly where he had stopped himself, ten feet away. His back remained entirely turned to me. He was playing the part of the indifferent Alpha perfectly. He hadn't even flinched when Thorne hit the fence.

"See? Hale didn't even blink," Chloe whispered to her partner. "He truly doesn't care if she gets crushed."

I pushed myself off the dirt, brushing the dust from my knees. My chest ached with a deep, hollow rhythm.

Then, I noticed his hands.

Ethan's arms hung rigidly at his sides. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles strained against the skin.

A single drop of dark blood slipped from his right hand, hitting the turf. Then another.

He was digging his own claws into his palms.

I stared at the small crimson spots staining the grass by his boots. He forced himself to bleed just to stop himself from touching me.

"Rotate partners!" Garrick shouted.

Ethan finally moved, walking back to the heavy bags without a single backward glance.

I wiped the blood from my cheek, my eyes tracing the deep, jagged gouges his boots had left in the solid earth when he forced himself to stop.

He hated me. He wanted me gone.

So why did his blood smell exactly like the sorrow radiating from my own wolf?

"Miss, are you taking this or not?" the cafeteria worker asked, tapping her tongs against the metal counter.

"Yes, sorry," I said, handing over my meal card. "Just the grilled steak. Rare. No sauce."

"Add the roasted sweet potatoes," I told her, pointing to the next tray. "And a large black coffee."

"Feeding the Alpha again?" she muttered, sliding the heavy plastic tray toward me.

"He has a long training session today," I replied, forcing a polite smile.

I gripped the edges of the tray and turned around. The dining hall was a sea of noise. Hundreds of Lycan Academy students packed the tables, shouting over each other, trading food, and laughing.

"Watch your back, mutt," a senior warned, intentionally bumping my shoulder as he walked past.

I kept my balance and held the tray steady. The coffee sloshed against the rim of the paper cup, but the lid held.

I scanned the room. Ethan sat at the center table. The Alpha's spot. Jace and Thorne flanked him, arguing loudly about the morning sparring drills.

"I'm telling you, a low sweep takes out a pureblood every time," Jace argued, stabbing a fork into his salad.

"Only if they're too slow to jump," Thorne countered. "Right, Hale?"

Ethan didn't answer. He stared blankly at his empty hands resting on the table.

"Ethan," I said, stopping at the edge of the wood surface.

The laughter instantly died. Jace rolled his eyes, dropping his fork. Thorne leaned back, crossing his massive arms.

"What do you want, Lila?" Jace asked, his tone dripping with boredom.

I ignored him and kept my eyes on my stepbrother. "I brought your lunch."

I slid the tray onto the polished wood right in front of him. The plate settled with a soft clink.

"I noticed you skipped the dining hall yesterday," I said, keeping my voice light, trying to sound helpful. "You need protein after Coach Garrick's drills."

Ethan didn't look at the food. He slowly raised his head and locked his icy blue eyes onto mine.

His hand shot out.

He struck the edge of the plastic tray with the flat of his palm.

*Crash.*

The tray flew off the table. Ceramic shattered against the hard tile floor.

The rare steak bounced across the linoleum, leaving a trail of grease. The coffee cup burst open, splattering scalding dark liquid across my sneakers. It soaked instantly through my socks, burning my skin.

I gasped, jumping back.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent. Hundreds of conversations stopped in a single second. Forks hovered in mid-air. Every face turned toward the center table.

"Did I ask for a server?" Ethan’s voice cut through the quiet room like a sharpened blade.

"You always eat this after sparring," I whispered, staring at the ruined food.

"I eat what I choose. When I choose." He stood up, towering over me. "And I don't take handouts from you."

"I'm just trying to be a good sister," I pleaded, my hands shaking at my sides.

"Stop calling yourself that." His upper lip curled, exposing a flash of sharp white teeth. "Learn your place, Lila."

I shrank back. "I just wanted to make sure you ate."

"You think bringing me a meal changes anything?" he demanded, stepping closer. "You think playing the devoted little shadow makes us family?"

"We share a roof," I managed to say, my throat tightening.

"We share nothing." He pointed a rigid finger at the mess on the floor. "Stop these pathetic attempts to get my attention. It’s embarrassing."

"Ethan, please."

"Do not flatter yourself," he snapped, his tone dropping to a lethal, freezing calm. "We are siblings on paper. A legal technicality my father forced on me. Stop acting like there is a bond here. There isn't."

The words hit me harder than a physical blow.

"I understand," I choked out.

"Do you?" he pressed, refusing to let up. "Because every time I turn around, you are there, trying to force your way into a life you don't belong in. You cause misunderstandings. You make my pack look weak."

"Is she bothering you again, Alpha?"

A sweet, overly loud voice interrupted us.

Mia stepped out from the crowd of onlookers. She wore the senior uniform, her skirt hiked up, a confident smirk painted on her flawless face.

She walked right into Ethan’s personal space. Her hand flattened against his chest, her manicured nails dragging lightly over the fabric of his shirt.

"I told you to let me get your lunch today," Mia purred, tilting her head to look up at him.

I held my breath, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for him to dodge her touch the same violent way he avoided mine.

Ethan didn't shove her hand away.

He didn't flinch. He didn't dig his claws into his palms to stop himself from touching her.

He just stood there, letting her press her body against his arm, claiming him right in front of the entire school.

"I lost my appetite," Ethan told her, his voice softer than it had been a moment ago.

"Well, the smell of wet dog in here is pretty strong," Mia laughed. She turned her head and shot me a look of pure pity. "Clean that up, Lila. Someone might slip."

"Yeah, clean it up, half-breed," Thorne chimed in from the table.

"Make sure you get all the grease," Jace added, tossing his napkin onto the floor near my feet.

I dropped to my knees.

Laughter erupted around the room. The tension broke, replaced by cruel amusement. Whispers hissed from every table as students leaned in to watch.

"Look at her."

"Right where a mutt belongs."

"She really thought the future Alpha would eat scraps from her."

I scooped a piece of the ruined steak into my bare hands. Grease coated my fingers. The ceramic plate had broken into dozens of sharp shards.

I grabbed a jagged piece of the rim. My hand trembled. The sharp edge sliced deep into the pad of my thumb.

I hissed in pain. A single drop of bright red blood hit the white tile.

Above me, Ethan's heavy combat boots shifted. A harsh scraping sound echoed against the floor as he abruptly stepped back.

"Let's go," Ethan ordered. His voice sounded strangely strained, tighter than it had been a second ago.

"Coming," Mia chirped, linking her arm through his.

I kept my head down, staring at the mess of food and blood.

He hates me.

The realization settled into my bones, heavy and entirely cold. It wasn't just teenage rebellion. It wasn't just a phase he would grow out of. He despised my very existence. He repelled my care. He let another girl touch him, flaunt him, while I knelt in the garbage at his feet.

A terrifying thought crawled from the dark corners of my mind.

My eighteenth birthday was exactly one week away. The day my wolf would fully mature. The day the Moon Goddess revealed fated mates.

What if it was him?

My heart hammered against my ribs, driven by a secret, shameful affection I had buried for years. I had watched him train from my bedroom window. I had memorized his habits, his favorite foods, the exact scent of his pine and spice aura. I loved him in a way a sister never should.

But if the Goddess tied my soul to his... he would destroy me.

He would stand in front of the entire pack, look me in the eye, and sever the bond. He would throw me away just like the food on the floor. I would die from the rejection, and he wouldn't even blink.

I couldn't let that happen. If there was a bond, I had to run before he could reject me.

I gathered the last of the broken plate, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

The heavy cafeteria doors swung shut behind Ethan and Mia.

Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain pierced the exact center of my chest.

My inner wolf clawed frantically at the inside of my ribs, letting out a soundless howl of sheer agony.

I dropped the ceramic shards. I clutched my shirt, gasping for air. The pain wasn't coming from my bleeding thumb.

It was coming from the faint outline of the mate mark forming beneath my collarbone—and it was already turning black.