Chapter 7
The midday sun filtered through the canopy, scattering golden patterns across the gently streaming river. A thick log stretched across the current, slick with damp moss, its surface worn smooth by time. On top of it, one boy teetered playfully, arms flailing for balance as he laughed into the breeze. Another leapt from stone to stone, the river splashing up around his ankles with each landing. His feet hit the rocks with confidence, even as droplets sprayed his knees.
The third boy waded straight through the river, unfazed. The water, icy and quick, lapped at his waist, tugging at his trousers with every step. He didn’t shiver. He didn’t smile. His face was a blank canvas—eyes heavy with something far older than ten years. Where the others radiated light, joy, mischief… he carried silence.
“Whoa—whoa—!” the boy on the log cried, flailing wildly in mock panic. His feet danced, dangerously close to slipping, before he caught himself, giggling.
“Try not to die, Cooper,” the boy on the rocks called, grinning as he hopped onto a flatter stone. He gave a theatrical wobble of his own, then puffed up his chest. “Look at me—King of the river!”
Cooper laughed louder. “Oh, stop being so stiff, Drix! Have some fun!”
The boy in the water—Drix—didn’t even blink. “We’re late for training. Again.” His voice was flat, toneless. “I’m starting to think letting you two drag me out for lunch was a mistake. You keep getting me in trouble.”
Everett, the boy on the rocks, groaned. “So what? It’s not like the trainer’s ever on time. Loosen up, grouchy.” He flung his arms out. “If you keep going on like this, you’re gonna scare your mate away the second you meet her.”
Drix kept walking. The water curled around his ribs now, but still he moved forward, slow and steady, as though he felt nothing. “There’s no need to worry about that,” he said quietly. “I don’t have a mate.”
Cooper paused mid-step. “Everyone has a mate,” he said, squinting at him from the log. “Stop believing everything your father says.”
“Why would you think that?” Everett added, brows furrowed. “Just because he didn’t find his?”
Drix stopped walking. The river pushed gently against him, swirling around his waist. His dark eyes met Everett’s with hollow certainty.
“It’s beyond that,” he said. “And you know it. Monsters like us don’t get mates. The alphas before me… they’ve proven it. We choose someone. And then we live with the mistake. That’s just how it is.”
The laughter that had filled the air vanished. Silence fell between the boys, heavy and sudden. Cooper and Everett both stepped off their perches at the same time, feet hitting the soft earth with a splash. Their hands went to their hips, identical frowns drawing their brows.
“Okay, Mr. Monster,” Everett said, voice sharp with challenge. “What happens if you do end up with a mate?”
Drix looked at them—really looked. Something flickered behind his eyes then, something dark, quiet and desperate.
“Simple,” he said, voice low and firm. “I’ll never let her go.”
“Oh! The countryside is a vacant wild!
Mama got me a bear!
At the pub, you’ll see the old men dance
To the one-foot merry-hop spin!
Oh, countryside, countryside
My homeland and my heart—
So yap ye one-eyed vagabond…”
I strangle the oversized stuffed tiger in my lap, claws pressing into its synthetic fur until the seams groan. The throat tears slightly under my grip, white stuffing peeking through like a wound. Each squeeze siphons a flicker of my anger—though never enough. I always travel with at least three stuffed animals, sometimes ten, depending on how long the journey is and whether Everett or Cooper—or hell, both—are with me. This time I made the mistake of inviting Everett, just in case Cooper failed to find his mate and needed someone to carry his broken body back. I didn’t factor in the real risk: I might kill them both first.
Their singing is a cacophony of absurd verses and off-key shrieks, joy crashing against irritation like nails to chalkboard. Cooper is drunk on the fantasy of romance, while Everett seems to thrive on how quickly he can get under my skin. I press my claws deeper into the tiger. Its button eye pops off.
How did it come to this? How did my life veer so far off course?
Everything had structure once. When my father still drew breath, I had direction, a future. His death cracked the dam, and chaos flooded in. Now, I’m left caring for two grown wolves who treat my patience like a chew toy. Why me? Why is it always me?
There’s no escape. Work grinds me down every damn day. I haven’t touched my hobbies in years—I can’t even remember what joy feels like. The moment I try, they interrupt. Cooper moved into my house without asking. He eats everything, sleeps everywhere, and somehow manages to leave a trail of chaos in his wake. Everett? He lives for the moments I grit my teeth, feeding off my frustration like it’s ambrosia. Brie… she’s a story far too distant to revisit.
And me? I remain mate-less, locked in this miserable cycle while the rest of the world pairs off and parades their happiness in front of me like it’s sport.
My thoughts slide toward my mother—her cold stares, the dead marriage with my father until she found her fated mate and tried to run. The catastrophe that followed… I clench my jaw and snap my gaze out the window, refusing to think about any of it. Mates. Fated bonds. It’s all poison.
Black magic is starting to sound less absurd. A silencing spell could fix a lot. I imagine the blissful quiet if I could just mute Cooper and Everett permanently. Just a whisper of a spell. Just one.
“Alpha, we are approaching the pack boundary—”
“I’ll walk!” I snap, lunging toward the door, muscles taut like drawn wire. The seatbelt jerks me back with a jolt, the plush tiger crushing against my chest. Before I can reach again, two strong palms clamp onto my shoulders.
“Calm down,” Everett says, deadpan. “We still have the final verse to go. And really, it’s not dignified for an alpha of your stature to walk.”
“I love trekking.”
“As your Beta, I forbid it,” Cooper proclaims, puffing his chest.
“You can’t forbid me from walking, Cooper. I’m your alpha. And your senior.”
“You’re only two months older, smart pants. Tell him, Everett.”
“Mmm.” Everett nods solemnly, mock-serious.
I groan and sink back into the seat, my temples pounding. The car hums over the threshold of the pack’s barrier. I can feel it—a subtle shift in the air, like pressure being pulled tight around my skin. They’ve dropped the shield for us. Three more minutes, I count silently, holding my breath. Three minutes and I’ll be free.
The car barely rolls to a stop before I shove the door open and leap out, the suffocating air of the car replaced with the comfort of fresh wind. I toss the toy to the dirt and inhale—deep, sharp, ragged. Freedom burns in my lungs.
Everett follows, switching effortlessly to his “public” self—charming, composed. Cooper? Not even close.
He claps like a child and starts bouncing on his toes, eyes alight with excitement. I resist the urge to punch him.
The crowd gathered ahead watches us. Their stares are heavy, sharp as daggers, digging into my skin. I straighten my spine, square my shoulders, and let my expression harden to granite. I meet the host alpha’s eyes without blinking. Blonde. Brown-eyed. And a walking embodiment of incompetence. My lips twitch with a suppressed scoff as my gaze shifts to his family.
His son stands beside him, a reed-thin thing who looks like he’d cry at the sight of a real fight. The girls? One glance, and I know: harlots in the making. Their energy reeks of desperation. The wife? Weak—her aura is all apologies and compromise. Only the youngest daughter, who stands quietly at her mother’s side, seems remotely tolerable.
Typical nonsense.