Ember's POV
I woke up to silence, which meant they forgot. Again.
Eighteen years old today, and not a single "happy birthday" waited for me downstairs. No cake on the counter. No badly wrapped presents. Nothing.
I should've been used to it by now. But some stupid part of me—the part that still remembered being five years old and believing my family loved me—that part still hurt.
I grabbed my phone. No messages. Dad was probably already at pack training. Mom was likely having breakfast with Vivian, my perfect sister. And Vivian? She was too busy planning her wedding to the most horrible person alive to remember her little sister existed.
Ryder Kane. Future Alpha. Golden boy. My personal nightmare.
Just thinking his name made my stomach twist. Last week's pack dinner flashed through my mind—the one where he "accidentally" knocked his entire plate of spaghetti onto my lap in front of everyone.
"Oh no, Ember!" he'd said, his grey eyes sparkling with mean fun. "I'm so clumsy. Here, let me help—" He'd grabbed napkins and made it worse, smearing red sauce all over my only nice dress while the whole pack laughed.
"Maybe if she had a wolf, she'd have better reflexes to dodge," someone whispered.
"Eighteen years old next week and still no shift. That's just sad," another voice added.
Ryder had smiled—that cruel, beautiful smile that made everyone love him and made me want to disappear. "Don't worry, Ember. I'm sure your wolf is just... fashionably late. Like, really, really late."
More laughter. Even Vivian had hidden a smile behind her hand.
I'd sat there, covered in sauce, trying not to cry. Trying to be invisible. Trying to survive until I could escape.
And today was that day.
I jumped out of bed and pulled out my secret backpack from under the mattress. Everything I needed was inside: clothes, money I'd saved from odd jobs, a bus ticket to Lunar City, and a fake ID that said I was twenty-one.
Lunar City was six hours away. Big enough to disappear in. Full of rogues and outcasts who wouldn't care that I was the pack embarrassment. The girl with no wolf. The invisible Ashford.
I counted my money again. Three hundred and forty-seven dollars. Enough for two weeks in a cheap motel while I found work. I had it all planned. I'd researched jobs that didn't need references. I'd mapped out the safest rogue neighborhoods. I'd even picked a fake name: Maya Brooks.
By tonight, Ember Ashford would be gone forever.
I shoved clothes into the bag, my hands shaking with excitement. Just a few more hours. I'd leave a note saying I went for a walk. They wouldn't notice I was gone until dinner. Maybe not even then.
"Ember!" Mom's voice called from downstairs, annoyed. "Your father wants you to clean the packhouse kitchen before training ends!"
Of course. Even on my birthday—not that she remembered—I was still the free maid.
"Coming!" I yelled back, trying to sound normal.
I hid the backpack again and headed downstairs. Mom was in the living room with Vivian, looking at wedding magazines. They didn't look up.
"The kitchen is a mess from breakfast," Mom said, flipping a page. "And take out the trash. It smells."
"Okay," I whispered.
Vivian finally glanced at me. My sister was beautiful—golden hair, green eyes, confident smile. Everything I wasn't. "Oh, Ember. Can you also pick up my dress from the cleaners? I need it for tonight's ceremony."
Tonight. The pre-wedding celebration where Ryder would officially announce Vivian as his chosen mate. The whole pack would celebrate. And I'd be gone.
"Sure," I lied.
I cleaned the kitchen fast, my mind racing. Three more hours. Then the bus left at two o'clock. Then freedom.
I was taking out the trash when I heard his voice.
"Well, well. If it isn't the invisible Ashford."
Ryder Kane stood by the packhouse entrance, arms crossed, looking like some magazine model. Tall, dark-haired, grey eyes that saw too much. He wore his usual smirk—the one that meant someone was about to get hurt.
Usually me.
"Leave me alone, Ryder," I said, trying to walk past him.
He blocked my path. "What's wrong, Ember? Sad that tonight's all about your sister? Oh wait, every night is about your sister. Because she actually matters."
The words hit like punches. I'd heard worse from him, but today they stung extra hard. Maybe because it was my birthday. Maybe because I was so close to escaping.
"Move," I said quietly.
"Make me." He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Oh right. You can't. No wolf, no power, no nothing. Tell me, do you think you're even really a shifter? Maybe you're just a human mistake your parents are too embarrassed to admit."
Something hot and angry flared in my chest. I'd never talked back to Ryder before. Never fought back. But today—my last day in this horrible place—something in me snapped.
"At least I'm not a bully who picks on people weaker than him," I said, my voice shaking but strong. "At least I'm not so insecure that I need to hurt others to feel big."
Ryder's eyes widened. For one second, he looked actually surprised.
Then his face went cold. "You just made a big mistake, Ember."
He turned and walked away, and I knew—I KNEW—I'd just made my last few hours here so much worse. But I didn't care. In three hours, I'd be gone. He could plan whatever cruel revenge he wanted. I wouldn't be here to suffer through it.
I went back inside, counting down minutes. Two hours and forty-five minutes. Two hours and thirty minutes. Two hours—
That's when the pain hit.
It started in my chest, like someone stabbed me with a hot knife. I gasped, dropping the plate I was washing. It shattered on the floor.
"Ember?" Mom called from somewhere far away. "What broke?"
I couldn't answer. The pain spread through my whole body, burning through my blood, setting every nerve on fire. My bones felt like they were breaking and reshaping. My skin felt too tight.
No. No, no, no. Not now. Not TODAY.
But I knew what this was. Every shifter knew. I'd heard the stories, listened to others describe it.
My first shift was starting.
After eighteen years of nothing—of being the defective Ashford, the embarrassment, the wolfless girl—my wolf was coming. Right now. Two hours before my escape.
I fell to my knees, screaming as my body started to change. Through the pain, I heard footsteps running. Voices shouting. But one thing drowned out everything else.
A scent. Strong and overwhelming. Cedarwood and night storms.
A scent that meant something my brain couldn't process yet but my emerging wolf understood perfectly.
No. Please, Moon Goddess, no. Not him. Anyone but him.
But the scent got stronger, pulling at something deep in my chest. Calling to me. Demanding I find its source.
And I knew—with horrible, certain clarity—that my escape was over before it started.
Because that scent belonged to Ryder Kane.
And my wolf recognized what that meant.