Chapter 0003

Graduation looms just months away. In two weeks, I'll turn eighteen. If fate smiles on me, I'll find my mate soon after, and Dad can officially pass me the Alpha title.

Donovan, my best friend and future Beta, leans against the kitchen counter when I enter the pack house. "Morning, Alpha. Sleep well?"

His smirk tells me he caught Bianca slipping out earlier. I take a sip of coffee, grinning. "No complaints here."

He barks a laugh. "Your mom would skin you alive if she knew."

True. Mom's obsessed with me waiting for my destined mate. "She won't find out," I say, grabbing my keys. "Why were you up so early anyway?"

He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. "Let's just say I wasn't suffering either. At least I walked her to her car."

I roll my eyes and head for the door. "Riding with me?"

"Obviously."

Blackthorn territory stretches wide, but the school sits on the border between our lands and Nightshade Pack's. A fifteen-minute drive from the pack house.

Our home is structured by rank. The fourth floor belongs to my family—the Alpha line. Donovan's family occupies the third as Betas. Gammas take the second. The left wing houses ranked wolves; the right holds guest rooms and unmated warriors who prefer pack house living. The first floor? Kitchen, dining hall, rec room, meeting spaces—everything needed for pack gatherings. Omegas who stay here have their quarters downstairs too.

Blackthorn isn’t the largest pack, but we’re the strongest. Over five hundred members. My father, Alistair Grey, is a force. I’m his heir, bred to lead. And technically, we have two Guardians—though I’ve never met the daughter of the couple who saved my parents.

Mom visits Ivy Sinclair’s memorial weekly, leaving fresh flowers. A reminder that her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. I whisper my own thanks to her spirit, vowing to watch over Evelyn.

Dad meets with Grant Sinclair every week. No one joins them—not even Mom. For years, Dad’s tried pulling Grant back into pack life, offering him lead warrior trainer. No luck. The pack calls him "The Broken Warrior." Once our best fighter, now paralyzed for thirteen years. He and Evelyn live on the edge of our territory, under strict orders for privacy.

At school, Donovan and I are swarmed instantly. Girls hoping to be Luna or Beta female. Most just want bragging rights for sleeping with us. And we’re happy to oblige—but I’d never make one my Luna unless she’s my fated mate.

Double standard? Absolutely. Do I care? Not even a little.

"Adrian! Weekend plans?" Rosalind—a redhead I’ve definitely slept with—bats her lashes. Donovan’s smirk confirms it.

"Nothing solid. Why?"

"My friends are hitting Silver Fang Friday. You two should come." Her tone drips suggestion.

Donovan and I exchange a look. "We’ll be there."

She beams like I handed her the moon. "Perfect!" Her friend leans in, whispering, "You won’t regret it."

I smirk. "I never do."

They disappear down the hall, Rosalind calling over her shoulder, "See you later, Alpha! Beta!"

Donovan nudges me as we walk to class. "Sounds promising."

"Very."

——

By lunch, the buzz about Friday’s club trip has spread. Half of Blackthorn and Nightshade packs are going.

Then I feel it—eyes on me.

I look up and freeze.

Emerald green eyes lock onto mine. Thick, dark curls frame her face, lips made for sin. My wolf, Theron, surges forward, restless.

‘Who is she?’

‘Don’t know. But I want her.’

Theron’s never reacted to anyone before.

A guy slings an arm around her shoulders, guiding her away. Theron snarls.

‘Easy. We’re in public.’

I turn to Donovan. "Who’s that?"

He follows my gaze. "The brunette? No clue. But she’s your type—curly hair, killer eyes."

True. I love those wild, silken curls.

"Want me to dig up intel?"

I shake my head, grinning. "I’ll handle it myself."

The bell rings. By day’s end, she’ll be mine.