The drive was endless. I kept my hands tight on the wheel,my knuckles white, but my mind was somewhere else back at the lecture hall with Derek's red eyes burning into me, the shock when our fingers touched, and the way he shut Joanna down like she was nothing. But none of that mattered as much as my dad's text, sharp and cold: The forests are restless. Mom's trip delayed.
That phrase—restless—had always meant trouble. Mom said it when the pack was on edge, when the wild world crept too close to our quiet life. Delayed. That word weighed on me like a stone.
I pulled into the driveway, the house looming quiet and small compared to Derek's world. Inside, it smelled like Mom's herbs and safety, but the warmth was gone.
Dad was at the window, shoulder hunched, staring out at the dark trees beyond. His face looked older somehow—lines deeper, eyes heavier.
"You're home," he said without turning.
"Dad, what's wrong? Your text sounded bad. Where's Mom? What does delayed mean?"
He turned, and I saw the grief there—the kind that steals your breath. "Your mom… she insisted on coming with me. A scouting mission. To find safer land."
"Why? What's wrong with our territory?" My heart thudded. That howl I'd heard after meeting Derek echoed sharp in my mind.
"The Red Pack is growing stronger," Dad's fists clenched around a small wooden wolf from his desk—Mom's gift. "They're not just fighting anymore. They're forcing wolves to join them, twisting them with some dark rite. We're peacekeepers, not warriors. Our best chance is to find new land, somewhere safe."
He looked away, lost in memory. "Mom wouldn't stay behind. You know her—fierce, stubborn. I couldn't say no."
Cold dread coiled tight in my stomach. "Where is she? When's she coming back?"
He stared at the floor. The silence screamed louder than words.
"Dad? Where's Mom?"
Deep in the forest, the air thick with earth and blood, the Red Pack's training ground was chaos. Wolves with glowing crimson and amber eyes snarled and crashed into each other.
Damon Clawson stood at the center, his towering figure draining all warmth. His scars told stories of battles won and lost. He watched with cold eyes.
"You're late," Damon's voice ground like stone.
"University," Derek said flatly. Skye's golden eyes flashed in his mind—a shield against this darkness.
"Playing human. Wasting time. Your place is here. Strength and power." Damon's glare sliced the clearing. "The White Wolf runs with his pack like a coward. Now's the time to strike. But you…" He sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. "You reek of city streets and softness."
Anger flared, hot and familiar. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Are you?" Damon stepped closer, old blood and dominance filling the space. "Your head's with that human girl."
Derek froze. How did he know? Spies everywhere—even on campus. A leash that tightened.
"She's nothing," Derek said bitterly. Skye's defiance was a light in this dark place.
"Keep it that way." Damon's face was inches from his son's. "Feelings make you weak. They rot you. They're the White Pack's disease. I won't have it."
He gestured sharply. "Kael, Roric, Jax, Silas! Teach your alpha-in-training power."
Four massive wolves stepped forward, eyes hungry and scared. Four against one—Damon's favorite punishment.
The fight was brutal. Derek's body screamed, blood filling his mouth. He fought back with claws and fury, crashing Silas into a tree. But they overpowered him, driving him to his knees.
"Pathetic!" Damon's roar cut through him. "Get up! I didn't raise a weakling. You're the next Alpha! Act like it!"
Derek staggered but didn't break. Skye's face—fire and strength—burned in his mind.
He roared back, sharper, fueled by defiance. Not broken. Not today.
Back home, Dad faced me, eyes stormy.
"We were ambushed," he said, voice fragile. "The Red Pack. Damon was there."
"No…" I gasped.
"He turned warriors with me. That twisted purification—it broke their minds. Made them his. And Kaida…" He gripped the wooden wolf tight. "She stood her ground. Braver than any of us. Damon looked me in the eye and drove his claws into her chest. A warning."
Tears burned, silent and hot. Mom—stubborn, vibrant—gone. Delayed was a lie, a shield now shattered.
"He didn't know she was human," Dad said, bitter laughter choking him. "Thought she was Luna. His warning was murder."
I stumbled; he caught me tight. We clung in a quiet house, loss louder than words.
"I'll make him pay," Dad vowed, steel in his voice. "I'll rally the Alphas. We'll end Damon."
His words should comfort me, but I feel only fear. War is coming, and Dad charges into it, with rage as his weapon i can't bo more scared right now.
As I sob into his shoulder, I see two faces: Mom's warm smile. Derek's red eyes. The son of the monster who destroyed us.
Too cruel to be chance.
My world and the one I'm stepping into collide.
I'm caught in the explosion.
Later, on my bed, the house silent except for my ragged breath, the wooden wolf sits on my nightstand. Mom's absence is a void swallowing everything.
Derek's notebook lies untouched in my bag—a tether to him, to that spark I can't shake. Now, knowing his father's darkness, it burns.
My phone buzzes. Mia's message:YO GIRL, Heard about the Derek drama. You okay? Campus is WILD and you are the fire.
No reply because i culd'nt. How could I explain this storm inside? Grief. Anger. Something dangerous tied to Derek.
I open my laptop, Mythology notes blinking back, the Mega Alpha, blood and chaos. Once a story. Now a warning.
Across town, Derek stands at the forest's edge, blood drying on bruised knuckles. His father's harsh words echo: weakness, power, Alpha.
But Skye's face drowns them out. Not just a girl. A spark. A challenge. Part of something bigger.
A howl rises, sharp and urgent. The pack restless. Damon's plans moving.
Derek's world closes in.
Skye is at its heart.