Swipe at Your Own Risk
There are two kinds of werewolves in the world.
Those who dream of their fated mates, and those who don't.
Guess which one I am.
The answer? The second.The very boring, apparently defective kind.
I have gone through seventeen full moons without a single Moon Goddess dream. Not even a frizzy half-vision or a hint of true love Everyone else in my year has already gotten theirs I waking up with that glowing certainty of who they belong to.
And me? I am just here. Doing homework. Watching memes. Pretending I don't notice when couples walk past holding hands like they invented romance.
The truth is, I don't even want a mate. Mates mean rules. Mates mean compromise. Mates mean someone else life suddenly bleeding into yours until you can't tell where you end and they begin.
I like being alone.
Well most of the time.
There are nights when it is a little too quiet,when my phone is the only light in the room and I am scrolling through memes at 2a.m. just so I don't think too much about what I'm missing.
That's when the ad popped up.
Moonlinked: Find Your Fated Mate.No Dreams Required.
The icon glowed faintly a silver crescent moon over a pulsing digital heart.
That kind of glowing that makes you want to touch it.
I almost swiped it away.
But my thumb hesitated.
I would heard whispers about apps like this,some AI-meets-moon-magic. nonsense for wolves who had not gotten their mate dreams yet.They were not supposed to be accurate.Just fun distractions.
A little harmless curiosity would not kill me,
Step One: Sign Up
The app setup was weirdly personal.
Full Name:easy enough.
Bloodline uh,okay.Silverpine Pack, obviously.
Date of First Shift:not yet,thank you very much.
Magical Affinity: none, Unless sarcasm is magic.
Then the screen flickered. Words began typing themselves.
Species: Unknown
Status: Unregistered
I frowned. That wasn't right. I had been registered with the pack since birth. My parents were pack wolves, I grew up in the same town as everyone else, what did "unknown" even mean?
Before I could figure it out, the app announced:
Searching for matches.
The loading bar shot to 100% in seconds.
Error: Match limit exceeded. You have FOUR fated mates.
I laughed out loud. Four? That was not a thing.The Moon Goddess only ever gave one. Period. This was just a badly coded.
Four profiles slide onto the screen anyway.
Ezra:"shy witch-wolf"
hi.i like baking muffins when i'm stressed. i also make charms.sorry if i am awkward.
His picture:messy brown hair, flour on his hoodie, warm honey eyes.
Kian:"moody alpha heir"
Don't message me unless you can handle the truth.
Sharp jaw, stormy gray eyes, black leather jacket. The kind of face you don't forget.
Jace: "the gamer"
Lvl 99 in every game that matters. Lvl 1 in life.
Bright grin, headset around his neck, but something shadowed in his gaze.
Rylan:"quiet rogue"
(no bio)
Hood up, half his face hidden. But his eyes sharp, steady, pulling me in like gravity.
I stared at the screen for a long second. Then I shook my head, snorted, and deleted the app.
Not my circus, not my wolves.
The Next Morning
It's barely light when my phone buzzes. I roll over, squint at the screen and nearly drop it.
The Moonlinked app is back.
I never reinstalled it.
And I have four notifications.
Ezra: hi i hope it's okay i messaged first. you feel familiar.
I blink. Why would the shy one message me first?
Kian: We need to talk.Privately.
That's intense.
Jace: We have a problem.You're not like the others.
Problem? What does that even mean?
Rylan: They're coming for you. Be ready.
My stomach twists.
The app must automatically connect mates like, once it detects a match, both people get notified instantly. That's why they reached out without me doing anything. Still something about the way Rylan's message feels like a warning makes my skin prickle.
The House That Isn't Safe
I set the phone down and try to breathe. This is ridiculous. They're strangers. Probably just some bored wolves messing around.
But then a sound.
A faint engine rumble outside.
I peek through the curtain. A black SUV idles by the curb. Two men in dark suits step out, moving with sharp, deliberate strides. Even from here, I see their eyes flash silver.
Elders.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears. Elders don't just visit. They summon you. They investigate. And when they show up unannounced, it means trouble.
Rylan: Don't let them in.
Another buzz.
Kian: If they reach you first, it's over.
I shove the phone in my hoodie pocket, my breath shallow. Downstairs, there's a knock at the door slow, heavy.
My mom's voice carries up: "Can I help you?"
One Elder speaks, his tone like ice.We're here for your daughter.
Why Him?
Footsteps on the stairs. My pulse is so loud I almost miss the tap at my window.
I turn and Rylan is there. In the flesh. Hood down now, dark hair messy from the wind, eyes locked on mine with a strange, grounding calm.
"You need to leave," he says quietly.
I should be terrified I don't know this boy. But something about his gaze cuts through the noise in my head. The others feel like static; Rylan feels… real. Solid. Like he's not here to claim me, but to keep me breathing.
"Why should I trust you?" I whisper.
You shouldn't, he admits. "But you don't have time to decide."
The footsteps are halfway up the stairs now. My mom is arguing with someone her voice tight with fear.
Window.Now, Rylan says, holding out his hand.
I glance at my bedroom door, then back at him.
Some part of me the part that secretly hates being alone even as I cling to it — knows that if I stay, I'll never get to make another choice again.
I take his hand.
We're gone before the door bursts open.