I didn’t ask for a party. Don't get me wrong. I don’t have anything against parties; they’re just not for me. I don't want to sound like one of those 'I'm not that kind of girl' tropes, but what can I say? I'm not that kind of girl. It's my eighteenth birthday, and there's no wild rager planned, no elegant gala, no fancy event. It's perfect.

My parents don't even nag me by saying I should spend my birthday with friends. I do have friends. I'll see them tomorrow at school, and they'll wish me a happy belated birthday and joke about how lame it is that I didn't invite them to my non-existent party. Today I'm with family though. Today we run. 

Mom laid out some clean clothes for the three of us, folded neatly on the front porch for when we get back. She even tried to sneak an entire cake into the refrigerator as if there was any chance I wouldn't notice the giant cake-shaped box on my birthday. 

"Ready to go?" My father asks, standing by the door. 

I've been ready, but my mom just rolls her eyes and points at his face. 

"Jacob dear, glasses," she says, waiting expectantly for him to take them off and put them safely away. 

It's unlike him to be so careless, but I can't blame him. I can't wait to go out the door and into the wild. 

Once we're all set, my dad is the first one to shift into his wolf form and disappear into the forest. Mom smiles at me, and I know it's time to let go. I remember the first time I shifted, and the pain of my entire body being torn apart only to be put back together. I never expected the rearranging of bones and stretching of skin to be particularly pleasant. Still, I hadn't been prepared for how deep the change went, how every individual cell of my body would get re-written. It's been years since that first time, and now the shift feels faster, familiar. I still wouldn't call it comfortable, but there's something almost cathartic about the way it hurts. I now recognize it as the sort of pain you feel when you stretch a sore muscle or scratch an irritating itch. It's a release. 

I'm ecstatic with satisfaction as the transformation washes over me. This is the best birthday gift I could have asked for: a moment of freedom. The second I'm in my wolf form, I feel a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It's funny to think that I hold my head taller when I'm on all fours. I run into the forest, and somewhere behind me, I can hear my mom shifting as well to join us. I can hear everything. I can smell everything. My senses delight at all the new information they receive in this form. I feel like I've been starving for this. I've been hungry for the smell of moss beneath my paws and the way I can almost taste the fog in the air. I drink in the sounds of the forest around us, my ears twitching. 

As a wolf, I forget about the things that worry me as a human. I don't think about high school or the grades I need to keep up to please my father. There are no expectations, no pressure, no one I need to impress or hide from. It's all just survival instinct. There's no room for my usual overthinking. My body, usually hidden with clothes that my mom calls childish, is covered in reddish-brown and black fur, and I feel the wind gliding over it as I run. Marcel once teased that I look more like a fox than a wolf, but I almost don't care what I look like when I'm in this form. I just get to be. 

We run for a few hours, but it goes by as fast as the forest flying past us. Before I know it, we're heading home. First, I change into my human form, then I change into the clothes Mom set up for me. It's a brand-new black dress she got me as a birthday gift. It's not exactly my kind of fashion, which usually consists of plain jeans and colorful sweaters. Mom once said the inside of my closet looks like a kindergartener's art project. She doesn't understand that wearing small, dark clothes is precisely what gets you noticed in high school. Pastel pink and flower prints are basically camouflage. Still, I wear the black dress without question or complaint. I even pretend to be surprised when she pulls out the birthday cake. 

Later that night, my dad comes into my room to say goodnight. 

"Did you have a good birthday, Valerie?" 

I smile and nod in reply. 

"Good. And hey, it's not over yet, your mom is usually the one that wraps gifts, so I didn't really know how…" he trails off, reaching into his pocket and handing me a dainty necklace. Hanging on the silvery chain is a moonstone. 

My eyes widen in surprise as I take the pendant from him, admiring the sparkle of the gem.

"It's beautiful. Thank you," I say, and he frowns. 

"It's more than that. A moonstone is no ordinary piece of jewelry. It's powerful, just like you are. I hope it gives you strength. That's my wish for you on your birthday." 

I sit there in silence, unsure of what to say. He watches me with weary eyes as I put on the necklace before he speaks again. 

"I need you to be strong for me, now more than ever. I have to go, but I wanted to give you that and wish you happy birthday one more time before I left."

This time I'm the one that frowns. Dad seems even more serious than usual, and something about the look in his eyes makes me nervous. I don't understand what's happening, but it feels important, so I wait for him to explain what's happening and where he's going. 

"I'm challenging Anthony Ernouf."

I open my mouth to speak and tell him that this is crazy, to say that he can't challenge the Alpha of our pack. No sound comes out, and my lips fall closed again. The words technically make sense, but my brain can't seem to understand them. Anthony isn't just the head of the Lobo Pack; he's a family friend. His family and ours used to celebrate Thanksgiving together. His son, Marcel, isn't just my childhood sweetheart; he's my betrothed. We grew up together. I feel my stomach twist into a nervous knot when I think of him. 

When the Pack Elder, Angelica, had a vision of Marcel and me getting married, no one was surprised. A few years ago, she went into a trance under the full moon, and she drew a picture of Marcel and me becoming the new Alpha and Luna of the Lobo Pack. It was a vision from the Moon Goddess, and ever since then, our families have become even closer. Marcel and the Ernouf family are my destiny. And now, my dad wants to challenge his father.

"I'm sorry, you're going to…what?" Although my shock is massive, my voice feels small.

"I know you must be confused," he says, and it's such an understatement that I almost laugh. "It's difficult to explain, but I need you to be strong. I need you to trust me and stay here with your mom. This will all make sense later. I just have to make things right first." 

He gets up from the edge of my bed, and I only shrink against my pillows, wishing I could disappear under the covers. How can any of this ever make sense? Challenging an Alpha is one of the most dangerous things a wolf can do; it can change the future of the entire pack. Our law is as savage as nature. It’s kill or be killed, but in a battle to the death, there can be no real winner. Either my dad will have to murder his friend, the leader of our pack and father of my future mate, or he is going to die.

"Dad, you can't—” I try to think of the right thing to words. My mind searches for a way to make him understand how impossible this is, but there is nothing I can say that he doesn't already know. 

"Valerie, listen to me. This is the right thing to do. Promise me you'll stay here until it's over," he says. I immediately shake my head no, but he's already walking away.

"This is insane. Don't—”

"Please, Valerie. I have to do this. One day you'll understand, but right now, I need you to stay home. Stay safe, stay strong. Do you trust me?" 

"That's not fair."

"Life is not fair," he says, and his tone is so sharp that I feel the fight drain out of me. I won't argue with him. I can't. 

"I trust you, Dad. I promise," I finally reply, and I can see him relax slightly. "Just please be careful."

He gives me a bitter smile. 

"You too, pumpkin."

He hasn't called me that nickname since I was a little girl, but before I can even process that, the door slams shut. 

He's gone. 

So, I didn’t exactly drift off peacefully to sleep after that. Instead, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing that my mind had a mute button. A girl can dream, right? Or actually, she can’t, considering you actually have to be asleep to dream. Still, this night is about to become a nightmare.

When a pack member knocks on our door to give us the news, I pinch myself to make sure it’s real. Mom thanks the man with a slight nod. She waits until his footsteps have faded off our porch to fall to the ground and sob. I want to hug her and tell her everything will be okay, just like she did for me so many times. Instead, I sit on the floor beside her, trying to wake up because this has to be a bad dream. I don’t want to be awake in this world where my father is dead. But I am. No matter how hard my mom cries or how badly I wish this isn’t real, it is. In a few hours, the sun will come up, tomorrow will arrive, and my dad will never come home.   

I didn’t expect time to stop after my father’s death, but I’m not prepared for how quickly things get back to normal, whatever that is. Mom makes breakfast with puffy eyes, and we quietly set the table for two. I want to talk to her, but according to pack law, there is nothing to say. When a wolf loses a challenge, they are forgotten. That is our way of life; we do not mourn traitors. So, from now on, we do not even speak his name. 

I want to throw up my breakfast. I want to curl up in a ball in my bed and put the covers over my head. I want to cry and scream and turn back time. I want my dad. 

“You should get going. I don’t want you to be late for school today,” my mom says, and I don’t even want to think about it what it’s going to be like. Nobody is supposed to talk about what happened last night, but everyone will know. 

I feel everyone staring at me like a weight on my shoulders as I walk down the hall. I pick up a few words here and there from the not-so-whispered conversations that follow me around campus. Challenge. Traitor. Alpha. Shame. Father. They feel like knives in my back. 

I spot my friend Emily outside the library. She’s so tall and lanky that she’s hard to miss, and I have to stop myself from running to her.

“Em! You have no idea how happy I am to see a friendly face.”

She doesn’t answer, and I see her grip tighten around her textbook. She looks even more awkward than usual, standing as though she’s trying to make herself smaller despite being so tall. Emily seems like she wants to shrink and disappear, her face hidden by the messy curls of her hair as she stares at the floor. 

“I’m-I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she says. 

“What are you talking about? It’s not like I’m the one who challenged Anthony Ernouf.” 

“You can’t just say things like that! A wolf challenged the Alpha and lost; you know how serious that is.”

“Yeah, but I had nothing to do with it. It’s bad enough I lost my dad, and now everyone is acting like I’m some kind of criminal. I don’t even know why he did it. I don’t understand any of this.” My voice trembles, and Emily seems to relax a little. I almost think she wants to give me a hug, but she keeps her distance. 

“Look, Val…I know none of this is your fault, okay? But my mom is the Pack Elder, and things are already intense between the challenge and the new members. We can’t afford to get in trouble right now.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. Emily is my best friend; she has been ever since we were kids. Her mom is the one who said Marcel and I were destined to get married. I can’t lose her. I’ve already lost too much.

“New members?” I ask, trying to change the subject before I completely lose my grip and start crying right then and there. 

Emily’s expression softens. For someone so anti-social and introverted, she’s always been obsessed with gossip. She always keeps up with the pack drama as if she’s studying it. It’s like she’s in a nature documentary observing jocks and cheerleaders in their natural environment, and every new scandal is a scientific discovery. ‘Mom says knowledge is power, so I’m just doing my duty to stay informed,’ she’d say. 

If I can get her to tell me about the latest juicy rumor, then maybe we can just talk like we always do. Maybe life can feel normal again. 

“Yeah. Get this: a whole family is joining the Lobo Pack today. Their son is actually going to be in our class. It’s a really big deal. Well, not as big of a deal as…you know…your dad.” She goes quiet for a minute. “I’m really sorry, Val. I can’t talk about this anymore with you. I have to think of my mom. I have to do what’s right by the pack.” 

I just nod in reply, not knowing what else to say. That seems to be a reoccurring theme for me. 

The rest of the day in school goes by quick and painful. Then, when I think things can’t get any worse, I run into Marcel. And I mean, I literally run into him. I’m so focused on avoiding everyone’s glares and hurtful comments that I don’t see him until our bodies collide. All my books and papers go flying everywhere, but before I can even apologize, he snaps at me. 

“You should look where you’re going.”

I look up at him in shock for a moment. His massive frame has always been kind of intimidating, but today he looks downright scary. His ink-black hair frames his dark eyes, which glower at me menacingly. 

“Sorry, I was distracted. I’m really sorry Marcel, I didn’t mean—”    

“Next time, be more careful,” he says, cutting me off. He starts to walk away, his muscular shoulder smacking into me as he goes past me, but he barely even looks in my direction. My belongings are still scattered on the floor between us, but I completely forget about them. 

“I said I’m sorry. Marcel, please.”

He stops suddenly, turning around to face me again. A part of me wishes I’d let him walk away, but the other part desperately wants to go to him and have him wrap those strong arms around me. How can he be so heartless? 

“What do you want?”

“I just want to talk. You know I had nothing to do with the challenge against your father. I mean, come on, we’re engaged. You know me. Please, talk to me. I just want someone to look at me like I’m not a traitor.”

“You’re the daughter of a traitor. And clearly, you have no respect for pack tradition if you want to talk about a wolf that lost a challenge.”

I take a step back as though he’s hit me. Marcel has always had a temper, so I’ve seen him angry plenty of times before, but not at me, not like this.

“It’s over, okay?” he says. “We’re not engaged anymore; the betrothal is off. I have nothing more to say to you.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand any of this. You can’t just call it off. You’re supposed to be my mate; we’re meant to be together.”  

“I’m not meant to do anything with you. Your family betrayed mine and disgraced the Lobo Pack.”

“Please, Marcel, I need someone to explain—” 

“I don’t owe you shit,” his voice is low and threatening, and I don’t dare to argue with him. All I can do is stand there and wish the ground would open and swallow me up whole, so I didn’t have to look at him anymore. I can’t stand the anger and hurt in his eyes. 

           He finally breaks eye contact and storms off, leaving me to pick up my things from the floor. I bend down, letting my brown hair form a curtain so no one can see my face as I gather everything. I keep my head low, so I don’t notice the guy walking up to me until he’s kneeling beside me. I freeze, surprised that anyone would be willing to help me right now, but he just picks up a notebook from the floor and hands it to me.  

For a moment, I just look at him. He’s in human form, but he’s everything I imagined a white wolf would look like. He’s tall and lean, with skin the color of snow and platinum hair so light that I can’t really call it blonde. Everything about him reminds me of ice. The lines of his body, which may as well have been sculpted out of marble, are sharp and clean. I’m sure I’ve never seen this guy before. I could never forget a face like that. That’s when it hits me. He’s the new member Emily mentioned. 

His piercing blue eyes stare at me expectantly, and I take the notebook from him. 

“Thanks,” I mutter nervously. 

He doesn’t say ‘you’re welcome.’ Instead, he just stays there on the floor with me and continues picking up the mess I made. Once we’re finished, he stands up and offers me his hand. I hear some classmates whisper from behind us, but he doesn’t seem to notice them. I take his hand, half-expecting it to be as freezing as his appearance, but his hands are warm and soft as he helps me up. 

“Thank you. You must be the new kid,” I say, and I immediately feel like an idiot. He may be new to the school and the pack, but he is clearly not a kid. He just arches a brow, and I can’t figure out if he seems confused or amused. 

“Must I?” he says, and his voice is as unexpectedly soft as his touch. 

“Well, not the new kid, obviously. But you are new, right? I heard a family just joined the pack, and I’ve never seen you around before.”

He doesn’t say anything, and the silence isn’t helping my nerves. I should just walk away before I say something really stupid.  

“I mean, you’d have to be new to want to talk to me. In case nobody else warned you: if you want to fit in with the pack, you probably shouldn’t be seen helping the daughter of a traitor,” I say, ignoring the little voice in my head that’s saying stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. 

“I’m sorry about your father,” he answers, and I feel like my heart has stopped beating. So, they did warn him. He knows, just like everyone else does. 

“Why…um, why did you help me?” I ask, and he shrugs like it’s a strange question. Then, he turns to walk away, but before he does, he mumbles a stern reply: 

“Because you needed it.”