By the time Chloe dropped me off, my head was buzzing worse than my legs after gym. I muttered a distracted "thanks" and shut the door before she could grill me more. Ethan gave me a little salute from the passenger seat, his eyes saying don't lose your mind in that quiet way of his.
Too late.
I trudged up the porch steps, shoved open the front door, and barely remembered to kick my shoes off before collapsing onto the couch. The cushions puffed up like they were laughing at me.
Mom looked up from the kitchen table where she had papers spread out—bills, probably, or one of her lists she never let me see. "Rough day?"
I let out something between a groan and a growl. "You could say that."
She came over, perched on the armrest, and waited. Patient, calm. That was the worst, because it meant she already knew something was wrong.
Finally, the words tumbled out. "There are more like me. At school. Ezra and his friends—they're all wolves."
Her expression didn't flicker into shock the way I expected. No wide eyes, no dropped jaw. Just a slow inhale, like she'd been waiting for me to figure it out.
"You're sure?" she asked carefully.
I threw my hands up. "They smelled me, Mom. One of them literally sniffed the air like I was fresh out of the oven. Ezra straight-up asked me how long I've been a wolf and what pack I belong to. What was I supposed to do, bark back?"
Her lips twitched like she wanted to laugh but didn't. "So it's true. There's a pack nearby."
"Nearby?" I sat up, blanket sliding off my shoulders. "What does that even mean?"
"It means, sweetheart," she said, brushing a stray curl from my face, "that wolves don't live scattered like humans. They group together in packs. With an Alpha at the head. It's... order. Safety. Power."
"Sounds like a cult."
"Sometimes it feels like one," she admitted, surprising me. "But it's also family. A good pack protects its own. It's how wolves have survived this long in a world that doesn't even know we exist."
"Okay, so what happens if you don't want a pack? If you just... do your own thing?"
Her expression sharpened. "Then you're a rogue."
The word rolled heavy in my chest. "You made that sound like the boogeyman."
"It's close." She folded her hands in her lap. "Rogues are dangerous. Not just because they're alone, but because they don't have an Alpha's control. A wolf without bonds is unpredictable—more likely to lose themselves to the wolf, to violence, to chaos. That's why packs don't trust them."
She's not wrong, my wolf murmured in my head, calm and steady. Wolves need anchors. A pack gives that. Without it, instincts take over.
I flinched slightly, forgetting she could just... chime in now. So you're saying if I don't join a pack, I'll go feral?
Not tomorrow, she soothed. But eventually, yes. A lone wolf is a starving wolf. We crave connection the way lungs crave air.
"Fantastic," I muttered, scrubbing my face. "So what—you're saying I have to join Ezra's little entourage, or I'll end up eating squirrels in the woods?"
Mom's mouth pressed into a line. "I'm saying you'll need to decide where you stand. Packs aren't all the same. Some are stronger, some are crueler. What matters is the Alpha."
"What about him?"
Her eyes locked on mine, serious now. "Alphas aren't just leaders. They carry power—real power. Their word is law to their pack. Their bite binds. Their presence controls. That's why every wolf feels them. Submits to them, willingly or not."
I shivered. "So they're like... kings?"
"More like generals. Judges. Sometimes tyrants. A good Alpha rules with loyalty. A bad one rules with fear."
"And Ezra?" The name slipped out before I could stop it.
Mom didn't answer right away, which made it worse. Finally, she said, "If he's the Alpha here, he'll come for you. Because a wolf without a pack is a loose thread, and Alphas don't leave threads dangling."
He'll demand, my wolf added quietly. That's what they do. Demand, test, take.
My stomach twisted. "So what happens if I tell him no?"
Mom's expression didn't waver, but her voice softened. "Then you'd better be stronger than him."
"That's comforting."
"It's honest."
I dropped onto the couch again, pulling the blanket tighter around me. "So this is it? I shift one time and suddenly I'm on some supernatural chessboard? With Alphas and packs and rogues waiting to rip me apart if I don't play right?"
Mom brushed my hair back from my damp forehead. "You're not a pawn, Evelyn. You're my daughter. You're fae and wolf. You're stronger than you know. But strength doesn't mean you get to stand alone. Not in this world."
I didn't answer. Couldn't.
Because deep inside me, my wolf stirred again. She's right. We'll need them. A pack. An Alpha. But not just any. The right one.
I pressed my hands over my face, heart hammering. "What if I don't want any of this?"
Mom's voice was gentle but unyielding. "Then it won't matter what you want. The world you belong to now—it has rules. You can hate them. But you can't ignore them."