“There’s no way she actually thinks that. It’s just wishful thinking on her part,” Leo mutters as if Stacey's delusions are an everyday annoyance. “That’s what happens when you entertain crazy girls. You let them into your bed once, and they think they own you.”

My face burns as bright as a bonfire. Their casual talk about things like this is way out of my comfort zone. I feel like an uninvited guest at a conversation I shouldn’t be hearing.

Kylie looks appalled. “Wait—you actually slept with her?”

“It was a drunk and very unfortunate mistake,” Ryan admits, shaking his head as if he regrets the memory itself.

“One she’s desperate to repeat,” Ethan mumbles next to me. “That’s why she keeps showing up with the tequila.”

I feel completely out of my depth, my stomach twisting into knots. I know enough about relationships, but compared to them? I feel like an amateur in a game where everyone else knows the rules but me. My hands fidget in my lap, my cheeks burning hotter by the second. Stacey is definitely not going to let me off easy after what just happened. The boys rejected her, and worse, they defended me publicly. She’s going to see me as a threat.

Panic creeps in, making my breath shallow and fast. I have to get out of here. Now.

“I just realized I have a project I need to start.” My voice sounds weak, but I don’t care—I’m ready to crawl over Ryan and Aaron if that’s what it takes to leave. I can already feel the walls closing in.

“Selene—hey, wait.” Aaron shifts, concern etched on his face. “We’ll drop you off. Just a couple more minutes.”

“No, it’s okay!” I blurt out, standing quickly. “You’re still eating. I was done anyway.” I edge away from his outstretched hand before he can touch my arm, desperate to maintain some distance. “I think a walk will help clear my head. I’ll be fine.”

Before anyone can argue, I turn and make my escape, practically sprinting out the door. The cool air outside hits me like a splash of water, and I glance around anxiously, searching for Stacey or her minions. When I don’t see them, I dart behind the diner, heading straight for the woods.

She never follows me into the forest—it’s the only place where I feel somewhat safe.

I weave through the trees, taking familiar shortcuts until I reach the edge of my backyard. My wolf stirs inside me, sniffing the air cautiously as I scan the area. Satisfied no one is waiting in ambush, I dash toward the back door.

Once I’m inside, I lock the door behind me, pressing my back against it as I exhale deeply. My heart thunders in my chest, the adrenaline making my hands shake. Finally, I push off the door and head straight to my room, where I stay hidden for the rest of the weekend.

Leo knocks once, but when I ignore him, he leaves me alone. I spend the next two days drowning in homework and take a risky run at 4 a.m. on Sunday morning. The trio will be deep in their beauty sleep, and I doubt even Stacey has the energy to keep someone watching me around the clock. I tell myself it’s not fear—it’s strategy.

At least, I think that’s true.

The Silence Before the Storm

For two whole weeks, Stacey leaves me alone. No sudden attacks. No whispered threats. Just silence. But that silence weighs heavily on me, and every time I hear my name or feel someone tap me on the shoulder, I flinch, expecting her to pounce.

The guys’ presence helps, but only slightly. I’ve learned that her rage knows no limits. I try to keep my distance from all of them—Leo, Ryan, Aaron, Ethan, and Devin—but they seem determined to stick close. They drag me into conversations during classes we share, insisting I sit with them and partner with them on assignments. No matter how hard I try to disappear, they refuse to let me fade into the background.

At least Stacey isn’t in any of those classes. But I know she has eyes everywhere, and I avoid walking with the guys for too long between periods. If she sees us together, the fallout will be worse. I even steer clear of Leo as much as possible, just in case Stacey hasn’t realized we’re siblings yet. The last thing I need is for her to spin some twisted story about him.

I survive the two weeks by staying under the radar—but deep down, I know it’s only a matter of time.

And I’m right.

One day after school, I’m yanked into a dark closet. A large hand clamps over my mouth and nose, making it hard to breathe. Another hand grips the back of my neck, squeezing so tightly that I can’t move.

Then the blows come—sharp punches to my ribs, one after the other.

It’s over in seconds. No words are spoken. No threats made. But the message is clear: I’m a target again.

They shove me out of the closet, and I trip over my own feet, crashing to the ground. I gasp for air, my ribs throbbing painfully. I hear the sound of footsteps retreating fast, but I don’t bother trying to see who it was. I already know it’s one of Stacey’s pawns.

Training Turns Brutal

Mandatory training becomes hell after that.

While many pack members want to train with Kylie and me to improve their skills, others—likely under Stacey’s orders—use it as an opportunity to hurt me. Some just want to prove they’re better after I made them look bad. Every session feels like a battlefield, and I’ve become the target everyone wants to knock down.

I grit my teeth and take the hits. Showing weakness would only make things worse.

The guys notice what’s happening, but they know better than to intervene. If they step in, it’ll only make me look weak—and that’s something I can’t afford. Instead, they find subtle ways to help.

They begin "coincidentally" being paired with the same aggressive fighters who target me, delivering payback with a level of force that sends a clear message. And yet, not once do they call out what’s happening to me in front of everyone.

Even Kylie tries to get me to talk about it, but I dodge her questions as best as I can. She’s relentless, though, dropping random comments during homework sessions or early morning runs, hoping to catch me off guard.

I’m grateful the guys refused her offer to join those morning runs—it’s the only time I have left to myself. Running and teaching the pups are the only things that still bring me joy, and I cling to them desperately.

The worst part is that Stacey’s presence looms over everything. She doesn’t need to show up at every training—her influence is enough. And with each passing day, the whispers in my ear grow louder.

But I can’t stop. Not now. I’ve come too far to let them break me.

I keep my head down, keep moving forward.

Even if it feels like the weight of the world is pressing on my shoulders, I refuse to let them see me falter. Because if they do, Stacey will know she’s won.

And I can’t let that happen.