"Elowen, stop stabbing your food and go sit by Riven."

My father’s voice cut through the noise of the banquet hall, sharp and commanding.

I kept my fork buried in the roasted carrots. "I am eating, Dad. I require sustenance."

"You are making a scene," he corrected, leaning down so only I could hear. "The Thorne family is our oldest ally. Show some respect. Keep their heir company."

"He has plenty of company. Look at him."

I gestured with my chin toward the far side of the room. Riven Thorne sat at a large oak table, surrounded by a dozen clan members hanging onto his every word. Arrogant. Insufferable. The absolute bane of my existence since we were five years old.

"Elowen." My father's tone dropped, carrying a finality I knew better than to test. "Now."

I shoved my chair back. The wood scraped harshly against the stone floor.

"Fine."

Navigating the crowded hall felt like walking to an execution. The Voss and Thorne clans had shared this annual dinner for decades. Every year, the elders pushed Riven and me together. Every year, I tried to escape.

I reached his table and stood behind an empty chair.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked.

Riven stopped talking. He turned his head, his dark eyes scanning me from head to toe. A familiar, infuriating smirk formed on his lips.

"By my ego? Yes," he replied. "But you might be able to squeeze in."

"Hilarious." I dropped into the chair.

Instantly, my skin prickled. A flush started at the base of my neck and crawled upward. It always happened. Every single time I got within three feet of this guy, my blood felt like it was boiling. A literal, physical fever. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the sudden, suffocating warmth.

"Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," Riven muttered, leaning his elbows on the table.

"Do not flatter yourself. I was ordered here."

"Tragic. And here I thought you missed my charming personality."

"I would rather swallow glass."

The clan members around us chuckled awkwardly before scattering, sensing the immediate hostility. They always did. Within seconds, it was just the two of us at the massive table.

"You look flushed, Voss," he noted. "Fever?"

"Allergy," I shot back. "To you."

He laughed, a low sound that grated on my nerves. "You should get that checked out. Considering our fathers just spent the last hour toasting to our future."

My jaw tightened. "They can toast until their livers fail. It is never happening."

"Careful. You sound like you actually care."

"I care about my freedom. And my sanity."

I grabbed a glass of ice water and pressed it to my cheek. The condensation froze against my skin, but it did nothing to combat the sudden furnace radiating through my veins. The closer I sat to him, the worse the burning became. It felt like a restless energy trapped under my skin. He was a curse. My biological nemesis.

"You are shaking," Riven pointed out. His voice dropped a fraction.

"I am perfectly still."

"Your hand is vibrating against the glass. Need a doctor?"

"I need you to move back."

He leaned in closer instead. The heat spiked violently. My chest tightened, and a bead of sweat rolled down my spine.

"Why?" he asked. "Am I making you nervous?"

"You are making me nauseous."

Before he could respond, two elders from the Thorne clan walked past our table. They did not even try to lower their voices.

"They look good together," one whispered loudly.

"A perfect match. The Voss and Thorne lines, finally united. The ceremony will be magnificent."

I slammed my glass down. Water sloshed over the rim, pooling on the mahogany surface.

Riven did not flinch. He just wiped a drop from the table with his thumb.

"Did you hear that?" I demanded.

"I hear a lot of things. Mostly you complaining."

"They are planning a wedding, Riven! Our wedding!"

"Let them plan. Doesn't mean we have to show up."

"You are too calm about this."

"One of us has to be."

I laughed. It was not a happy sound. It was sharp, cold, and entirely out of place in the warm, festive hall. Riven's eyes narrowed, tracking the sound.

"What is funny?" he asked.

"You. You think you can just ignore them. You think because you are the golden boy, you get a say."

"I always get a say."

"Not this time." I leaned across the table, ignoring the intense, suffocating heat rolling off him. "My father already told me to clear my schedule for next month. For a bonding retreat. With you."

Riven’s expression hardened. The smirk vanished completely.

"A what?"

"You heard me."

My skin felt like it was on fire. I rubbed my arms, trying to soothe the burning sensation. It was unbearable tonight. Usually, I could tolerate the heat for at least an hour before needing to bolt. Tonight, I was ready to jump out a window after five minutes.

"I am not going on a retreat," Riven stated flatly.

"Tell your dad that. I dare you."

He stood up. The chair squeaked against the floorboards. "Maybe I will."

"Good luck."

He did not walk away. Instead, he rounded the table and stopped right beside my chair. The proximity hit me like a physical blow. My vision blurred for a split second. The heat morphed into a heavy, restless pressure in my chest.

"Why are you sweating?" he asked.

"It is hot in here."

"It is sixty degrees, Elowen."

"Then I am running a fever. Step away."

"No."

He reached out and grabbed my wrist.

Fire shot up my arm. I yanked my hand back, but his grip was iron.

"Release me," I snapped.

"Your skin is burning," he said, ignoring my command.

"I told you, I am sick."

"This is not a sickness." His eyes locked onto mine. The usual mockery was gone, replaced by a sharp intensity. "How long has this been happening?"

"How long has what been happening?"

"The heat."

I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"How do you know about that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Because," Riven murmured, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. "I feel it too."

He dropped my wrist. The fire did not fade. It flared higher, consuming my senses, leaving me completely disoriented. He felt it? The entire time we had been fighting, he was burning up too?

Before I could form a response, the grand hall doors blew open with a deafening crash.

The heavy oak slammed against the stone walls, silencing the entire room. The festive music screeched to a halt.

My father stood up from the head table, his face entirely drained of color.

"Secure the perimeter!" my father shouted, drawing his weapon. "They found us!"

"Secure the perimeter! They found us!"

My father's shout shattered the banquet hall's tension. The sudden panic, the overwhelming heat radiating from Riven, the feeling of utter helplessness—it all yanked me backward.

Back to the day my hatred for Riven Thorne cemented itself into my bones.

Back to the Awakening Ceremony.

I was thirteen years old.

"Are you nervous?" my mother asked, adjusting the silver collar of my ceremonial tunic.

"No," I lied.

"Good. A Voss does not show fear," my father stated. He stood tall, his broad shoulders blocking the wind. "Today, you show the Thorne family that our bloodline is just as powerful as theirs. We are high-ranking Alphas. You will shift into something magnificent."

"I know, Dad."

"Step up to the altar, Riven." Elder Thorne’s voice carried over the hushed courtyard.

Young Riven rolled his shoulders. He walked past me, intentionally knocking his elbow against mine.

"Pay attention, Voss," he whispered. "This is how a real leader does it."

"Just trip on the stairs and spare us the speech," I shot back.

He smirked, stepping into the center of the moonlit stone circle.

The entire academy watched. Hundreds of students, parents, and clan elders held their breath.

Riven closed his eyes.

The transformation hit him instantly. The harsh crack of bones realigning snapped through the quiet night. Black fur erupted along his spine. His limbs lengthened, muscles bulging as his human form gave way to the beast.

In mere seconds, a massive, midnight-black wolf stood on the altar.

Gasps ripped through the crowd.

"A pure black coat," my father murmured, his grip tightening on my shoulder. "We have not seen one in a century."

"He is a prodigy," my mother replied, her tone laced with awe.

The black wolf tossed its heavy head back and unleashed a deafening howl. The sound vibrated in my chest.

"The Thorne bloodline remains unmatched!" Elder Thorne yelled over the echoing howl. "Behold your future Alpha!"

The academy students erupted into cheers. They stomped their boots against the bleachers. Riven shifted back to his human form effortlessly. He grabbed a towel from an attendant, wiped his forehead, and stared directly at me.

"Your turn," he challenged loudly.

My father pushed me forward. "Go. Show them what a Voss can do."

"I will," I said.

"You have the blood of two high-ranking Alphas," my mother added, smoothing my collar again. "Everyone expects greatness from you. Do not hold back."

"I am ready."

I marched up the stone steps. The moonlight felt freezing against my bare arms. The cheering died down, replaced by heavy, expectant silence.

"Whenever you are ready, Elowen," Elder Thorne prompted.

I closed my eyes. I dug deep into my chest, searching for the spark. The wild animal that was supposed to be clawing to get out.

Nothing.

I clenched my fists. I strained my muscles. I begged the wolf to emerge.

"Come on," I whispered.

The wind rustled the pine trees. Seconds ticked by.

"Is she doing it?" a boy in the front row asked.

"She is just standing there," a girl replied.

Heat flooded my neck. I opened my eyes.

"Focus, Elowen!" my father barked from the sidelines.

"I am trying!" I yelled back.

"Try harder! You are a Voss!"

I shut my eyes again. I dug my fingernails into my palms until the skin broke. I pushed every ounce of energy I had toward the surface. Just a paw. Just a patch of fur. Anything to prove I belonged.

Still nothing. Just an empty, hollow quiet inside my chest.

I dropped my arms. My breathing grew ragged.

"I... I cannot do it," I stammered.

Whispers broke out instantly.

"Two elite Alphas," a woman muttered loudly. "And she cannot even summon a tail."

"Is she defective?"

"Maybe the bloodline skipped a generation."

I stared at the stone floor. Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them away furiously. I was supposed to be a warrior. I was supposed to stand beside Riven as an equal. Instead, I stood there, trapped in a weak human shell.

Riven stepped forward. He leaned against a stone pillar, a cruel smile forming on his face.

"What is the holdup, Voss?" he asked.

"Shut up, Riven," I snapped.

"I am just curious," he continued, raising his voice so the entire academy could hear. "Everyone expects a fierce Alpha. But what if she isn't a late bloomer?"

"Silence," my father warned, though he did not step onto the altar to defend me.

Riven ignored him. He looked straight at me, his dark eyes gleaming with mockery. "What if she ends up presenting as an Omega?"

The word hung in the air.

Omega.

The caretakers. The submissives. For a family of elite warriors, it was an absolute death sentence to our reputation.

A few students snickered. Then, a full wave of laughter rolled through the courtyard.

"An Omega Voss!" someone shouted.

"She will be washing our armor!"

I looked at my parents. My mother covered her face with her hands. My father stared at me, his expression entirely blank. He turned his back to the altar.

That simple movement gutted me.

"Stop laughing!" I screamed.

No one listened. Riven's joke had caught fire.

I marched off the altar and walked straight up to him.

"Take it back," I demanded.

"Make me," he challenged, looking down at me.

I swung my fist at his jaw.

He caught my wrist mid-air. His grip was iron. He didn't even flinch.

"You are weak, Elowen," he whispered, stepping closer. "You have no wolf. You have no power. You are exactly what I said you are."

I yanked my arm away. The shame burned through my veins, hot and suffocating.

"I will never forgive you for this," I vowed.

"I do not need your forgiveness," he replied. "I am the Alpha."

I turned and ran. I sprinted past the laughing students, fleeing into the dark woods, carrying a deep, festering inferiority that would haunt me for years.

The memory snapped.

The deafening crash of the banquet hall doors brought me violently back to the present.

I was no longer thirteen. But as the chaos erupted around me, the same helpless feeling clawed at my throat.

"Get down!" Riven shouted, grabbing my shoulder.

"Do not touch me!" I yelled, shoving his hand away.

"This is not a game, Elowen! We are under attack!"

"I can see that!"

"Then stop fighting me and move!"

Glass shattered above us. The massive chandelier plunged toward the floor.

"Watch out!" he roared.

He tackled me to the stone floor just as the crystal fixture exploded into a thousand deadly shards.

Dust plumed into the air. Screams echoed from the clan elders. The festive banquet had turned into a slaughterhouse in seconds.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, coughing. Riven knelt beside me, his eyes scanning the smoke-filled room. The intense, burning heat between us flared

Riven hauled me off the stone floor by my bicep.

"Move, Voss!" he shouted over the ringing in my ears.

"I can run on my own!" I ripped my arm from his grip.

We scrambled to our feet. The banquet hall had become a war zone. Masked rogues poured through the shattered windows. Silver blades flashed in the dim light. My father was already fully shifted, his massive grey wolf tearing into an attacker's throat.

"Dad!" I screamed.

"He can handle himself!" Riven grabbed my waist and shoved me behind an overturned mahogany table. A silver dagger embedded itself into the wood right where my head had been a second prior.

"We need to fight!" I yelled, searching the debris for a weapon.

"You do not even have a wolf, Elowen! You will die out here!"

The words stung, sharp and cruel. He didn't wait for my response. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the servant corridors. I stumbled over broken glass, my human lungs burning with every frantic step.

We sprinted down the east hallway. Behind us, the sounds of snarling wolves and shattering stone echoed off the vaulted ceilings.

Riven stopped abruptly. He yanked open a heavy wooden door, shoved me inside a narrow supply closet, and followed right behind me. The door clicked shut, plunging us into total darkness.

The space was no larger than a coffin. We stood chest to chest. The unnatural heat radiating between us flared into a scorching inferno.

"Step back," I ordered, flattening myself against the cold stone wall.

"There is nowhere to go," he whispered, his chest brushing mine as he breathed. "Stop fighting me for one second."

"You always do this. You always corner me."

"I just pulled you out from under a falling chandelier, and then saved you from a silver blade!"

"I am not talking about tonight!" I shoved my hands against his chest. His muscles were rigid, unyielding beneath his formal shirt. "I am talking about the last four years. Entering werewolf high school was supposed to be my fresh start. Instead, it felt like a cruel joke of fate. Because of you."

"Are we really doing this right now?" he asked, glancing toward the door. Shouts echoed down the hallway.

"Yes, we are doing this right now. You never leave me alone."

"I am keeping you alive."

"I do not need your protection! You ruined my history grade."

"You were failing. I rewrote the entire presentation on the Lycan Wars."

"Because you refused to let me speak!" I shot back, keeping my voice to a harsh whisper. "You stood at the front of the class and commanded the room like an arrogant tyrant."

"I got us an A."

"I didn't want your A. And the fall dance?" I challenged. "Did you have to ruin that too?"

"Did you want to go with that idiot from the River Pack?"

"That is none of your business. You told every guy in our pack to back off."

"You looked miserable in that dress. Standing in the corner. I did you a favor."

"A favor? You made me a pariah!" I hit his chest again, though he didn't budge an inch. "Every joint clan hunt. Every family banquet. I am always stuck with you. We are always bound together."

"You think I ask for these pairings?" Riven asked, his tone hardening.

"You never complain."

"Because one of us has to act like a future leader. The elders assign the groups, Elowen. Take it up with them."

I glared up at him. A sliver of moonlight bled through the crack under the door, catching the sharp angle of his jaw.

My mind betrayed me, flashing back to the joint hunt last autumn. Riven hadn't been arrogant that day. A massive wild boar had charged a terrified freshman. Riven threw himself in front of the kid, taking a brutal tusk to the ribs.

I remembered watching him bleed. I remembered watching him train for hours in the academy yard, sweat soaking his shirt, pushing his body past exhaustion to ensure he could protect the clan. He wasn't just a bully. He fought with honor. He protected the weak.

A strange flutter erupted in my stomach. A dangerous crack in my armor.

*No.*

I forced the feeling down violently. I squeezed my fists until my nails dug deep into my palms. *He humiliated you. He called you an Omega in front of everyone. He is the enemy.*

"Do not act noble now," I snapped. "I know who you really are."

"Do you?"

He leaned closer. The heat spiked violently, making my head spin. It felt like a fever burning under my skin, demanding something I refused to acknowledge.

"You push me away," Riven whispered. "You act cold. You oppose every word I say. Yet here we are. Alone. Again."

"By force," I hissed.

"Is it?" He tilted his head. "If you hate me so much, Elowen, why is your pulse racing?"

"I just ran for my life."

"It was racing before the attack." His thumb brushed my collarbone.

Fire shot through my veins at the contact. I slapped his hand away.

"Do not touch me."

"Your skin is burning. Just like mine."

"It means nothing."

"Liar."

Before I could hurl another insult at him, heavy footsteps thudded right outside our door.

We both stopped breathing.

A deep, unfamiliar voice rumbled through the wood. "Check the passages. Leave no survivors."

The brass handle rattled.