By the time you've been called a mistake for eighteen years, you learn how to make yourself small.
Small enough to slip through doorways without getting noticed.
Small enough to be invisible in family photos, when they remember to call you at all.
Small enough to live in a house full of wolves and still feel completely alone.
"Aurora! Stop standing there like furniture and carry these upstairs."
My mother's voice cuts through the dining hall like a whip. Wolves bustle around the long table, servants laying silverware, my father muttering instructions about security detail for tonight.
The "big night."
Not mine, of course. The pack doesn't care that I turn eighteen today. They care that it's the first time in decades the Alpha's family is hosting a full-moon gala.
I hook my fingers under the heavy box of crystal glasses and force my shoulders not to tense. "On it, Mother," I mumble.
She doesn't bother to look at me. Her gaze is already sliding back to my sister.
Seraphina, my older-by-three-years, perfect-in-every-way sister, glows in the middle of the chaos. Her honey-blonde hair tied in a loose knot, a silk robe wrapped around her as a seamstress pins last-minute adjustments on the shimmering dress she's supposed to wear tonight.
My birthday happens to fall two weeks before her official engagement ceremony to the future Alpha.
Guess whose event got priority.
"Careful with those, Aurora. If you break anything, you will pay for it," my father says without glancing up from the seating chart in his hands.
I smile sweetly. "Don't worry. I know I'm not allowed to ruin anything important."
He grunts, taking that as obedience and not the insult it is. No one in this family ever listens closely when I talk. It's one of the few perks of being invisible.
The box digs into my palms as I climb the stairs. The grand chandelier overhead throws shards of light on the polished wood, on the portraits of Hale ancestors lining the walls. Alpha after Alpha stares down with cold, painted eyes, as if personally disappointed that I exist.
"Good morning to you too," I mutter to them, because talking to dead Hales is only marginally less rewarding than talking to live ones.
By the time I reach the top landing, my shoulders burn. Eighteen today, and still no wolf, no shift, nothing.
Most wolves shift at sixteen. My sister shifted at fifteen, because of course she did. The night she did, the pack howled and feasted and everyone drank to the "favour of the Moon Goddess on the Hale bloodline."
They drank less when I didn't shift a year later. And the year after that. And the year after that.
At some point, the pack stopped waiting.
"Defective," I heard one warrior whisper once, after training.
"Maybe the Goddess took pity on us by keeping her weak," another replied.
I told myself their words didn't matter. I told myself I wouldn't be here long enough to care.
Down the hallway, I pass the room with the locked trunk under my bed, the one holding my savings, the few clothes I actually like, the little pile of money I've scraped together from doing odd jobs the pack elders were too dignified for.
Run at eighteen. That's the plan. No wolf, no problem. I'll take a bus, a train, a stolen bicycle, whatever it takes. Somewhere with no Hale crest engraved on the walls. Somewhere my name means nothing.
I deposit the box of glassware on a side table in one of the guest rooms and flex my aching fingers.
"We have servants for that, you know."
The smooth, amused voice behind me makes my spine lock.
I recognize it instantly. Unfortunately.
I turn slowly.
Kade Blackthorn loungers against the doorframe like he owns the entire house.
Technically, one day, he will.
For now he's just the future Alpha, our allied pack's golden boy, the one my parents never shut up about, the one my sister is marrying. The one who spent most of my childhood making sure I knew exactly how unwanted I was.
He looks very much like every girl in the pack dreams about: tall, broad shoulders, dark hair ruffled like he's too busy to care, storm-grey eyes that see too much. He has a lazy sort of confidence that comes from knowing no one ever tells him no.
I force my gaze away from his, focusing on a point just over his shoulder.
"If I wait around for a servant to be free," I say dryly, "you'll be old and grey before your precious gala starts."
His lips twitch. For anyone else, it might be a smile. On him, it looks like a smirk that got lost on the way.
"Still biting," he says. "Good. I was worried you'd worn yourself down completely."
My heart tugs painfully at the familiarity. He hasn't spoken directly to me in weeks. Months, maybe. Not since the betrothal rumors turned into official announcements. He's been busy playing the perfect future Alpha, at Sera's side, with no time for the pack disappointment.
"I'm functional enough to carry glass," I reply. "Was there something you needed, Future Alpha, or were you just haunting the upstairs hallway for nostalgic reasons?"
"Today's the big day, isn't it?" He tilts his head, studying me. "Eighteen."
I go still.
He remembers.
For some stupid, traitorous reason, my chest tightens. "Congratulations," I say flatly. "You can count."
"I was just wondering," he continues, ignoring my tone completely, "what you're going to do if nothing happens tonight."
There it is. The familiar sting.
I lift my chin. "Same thing I've been doing for years. Breathing without disappointing anyone with unrealistic expectations."
His gaze flickers, like I've brushed against something under his skin. It's gone as quickly as it came.
"You know the pack is watching," he says quietly. "Some of them are still hoping. It would be…better if you stayed out of sight if, "
"If I remain defective?" I supply, a sharp little smile stretching my lips. "Don't worry, Kade. I know my place. The shadows and I are quite intimate."
He says my name like a warning. "Aurora, "
"Relax." I push past him, the scent of pine and cold air and something undeniably him briefly filling my lungs before I shove it out. "Your reputation is safe. No one's going to confuse me for someone who matters."
His hand brushes my arm as I pass, just for a second. A flash of heat snaps through the contact, bright and startling. I suck in a breath and yank away instinctively.
Kade frowns, looking down at his hand like he's not sure why he reached out in the first place. For one dizzying heartbeat, something raw flickers in his eyes.
Then it hardens.
"Just… don't cause trouble tonight," he says, falling back into the role he wears like armor. "For your family's sake."
For your Luna's sake, he doesn't say. He doesn't have to.
"Trust me," I reply, not bothering to hide the bitterness, "the last thing I want is to be seen."
The gala starts just after sunset.
By then the house is glowing like a lantern in the dark, windows lit, music drifting through the open doors. Wolves arrive in elegant clothes, laughter and chatter filling the courtyard as cars pull up and pack members spill out.
From my vantage point in the far corner of the balcony, hidden behind one of the stone pillars, I watch the show below.
My father stands at the front steps, shaking hands, my mother at his side, graceful and regal. Sera is the star of the evening, of course. She floats between guests in her silver dress, smiling in a way that's all teeth and charm. Every now and then, she reaches for Kade's arm, her touch possessive, like she's silently reminding the world, and me, that he's hers.
She doesn't have to remind me.
I remember everything.
The way he pushed me into the mud during training when we were younger, laughing as the others joined in. The way he said, "You don't belong on this field, Aurora. You're just slowing us down," loud enough for the entire arena to hear.
The way no one ever told him to stop.
"You should be down there."
I jump. My cousin Leah slips into the shadows beside me, her dark curls tucked neatly into an updo, her dress a deep green that sets off her brown eyes. She's one of the few people who actually notices when I disappear.
"I am down here," I say. "Just… elevated."
She snorts. "It's your birthday. Aren't you even a little curious?"
"Curious about what? Whether the Moon Goddess finally checked her calendar and remembered I exist?" I fold my arms, hugging myself against the cool night air. "If nothing happens, they'll say I'm cursed. If something does happen, they'll say it's late and still wrong. Where, exactly, is the winning scenario?"
She hesitates. "You could still shift, Rory. Late wolves exist. And if you do, they'll all have to eat their words."
"Or they'll choke on them and blame me for that too."
Leah bumps her shoulder against mine. "You can joke about it all you want, but I've seen you watching the training grounds. You want a wolf."
There's a hollow place in my chest that aches at her words.
I do. Goddess, I do.
I want to run without getting winded. I want to feel the forest floor under my paws, to hear my bones crack and reshape with power instead of waking up each day feeling like a human in a world built for something more.
But wanting has never done me any favors.
"Wanting and getting are two very different things," I say lightly. "Anyway, I won't be here much longer."
Leah's head snaps toward me. "You're still planning to leave."
"Of course I am." I force a grin. "What else am I supposed to do? Stay and cheer when Sera and Kade mark each other? Maybe carry her train down the aisle?"
Her expression softens. "You're going to miss some people."
"Sure," I reply, voice quiet. "I'll write to you."
She doesn't ask where I'm going. That's another reason I like her.
We stand in silence for a few moments, watching the crowd swell.
Somewhere below, a few wolves tip their heads back and howl playfully at the rising moon. My skin prickles. The full moon always makes my body buzz, like I'm a radio tuned to the wrong station, catching static from something I can't quite reach.
Tonight the sensation is worse. A low hum, building at the base of my skull.
I rub my forehead. "Do you feel that?"
Leah glances at me. "Feel what?"
"Nothing." I shake my head. "Maybe I'm just hungry."
"Then go eat. There's a ridiculous cake with your name on it downstairs, you know."
"Yeah, I saw it." I roll my eyes. "Happy Birthday Auro, " I mimic the way the icing artist clearly ran out of space at the end, making the last letters squish together. "So thoughtful."
She laughs. "You're impossible."
"That's what they keep telling me."
The humming in my head intensifies. A weird, low vibration moves down my spine. I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms.
"Aurora?"
"I'm fine," I lie. "Go enjoy the party. Find some hot warrior to dance with. I'm going to hide a little longer and then steal cake when no one's looking."
Leah hesitates, then nods. "Okay. But if you start howling or growing fur, promise I'll be the first to know."
"Deal," I say weakly.
When she leaves, the silence rushes in around me, broken only by distant music and laughter drifting up from below.
I press my back against the stone pillar and close my eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
The hum in my bones becomes a tremor. My heartbeat is too loud, thudding in my ears. The moonlight seems to sharpen, pressing against my skin.
"Aurora."
The voice isn't Leah's. It isn't anyone I recognize.
It's inside.
I freeze.
My eyes fly open. The balcony sways, or maybe that's just my legs.
"Aurora," the voice says again, a low, echoing sound that vibrates through my ribs. Feminine, wild, amused and furious all at once. "Finally. Do you have any idea how long I've been knocking?"
My throat goes dry. "Nope," I whisper. "Nope, nope, nope. This is what I get for stealing Sera's chocolate when we were kids."
Laughter ripples through my mind.
"Cute. I'm your wolf, you idiot."
The world tilts.
My hands catch the railing just in time. "You're… late."
"So are you," she retorts. "We were supposed to do this two years ago, but somebody wouldn't stop clinging to her fear like a comfort blanket."
Pressure builds in my chest. My skin feels too tight.
"I, I can't be doing this here," I gasp. "Not in the middle of, "
A sharp, blazing heat tears through my spine.
Pain explodes, white-hot and shattering. I bite down on a scream as my bones ache, my muscles twisting. The music below blurs into a single distant noise.
"Breathe," my wolf orders sharply. "You're fine. You're just shifting."
"Now?!" I hiss between clenched teeth. "You pick now?! At a gala?!"
"Full moon. Eighteenth birthday. Dramatic timing. You're welcome."
I would laugh if my ribcage wasn't currently rearranging itself.
I drop to my knees, my fingers clawing at the balcony floor as my vision fractures. Sweat beads on my forehead. Every nerve is on fire, then numb, then on fire again. I feel myself stretching, warping, something ancient and wild unfurling inside me for the first time.
And under it all, something else awakens.
A scent slams into me, cutting through everything, like pine forests after rain, smoke, and something dark and electrically alive. It hits me in the centre of my lungs and doesn't let go.
My body stills, every cell straining toward it.
No.
No, no, no.
My wolf inhales sharply with me, then goes utterly, dangerously quiet.
We both know what that scent means.
Slowly, like in a nightmare, I lift my head.
Below, among the crowd, Kade is standing at the foot of the stairs, laughing at something Sera says. As if feeling my gaze, he looks up.
Our eyes meet.
The world stops.
Heat detonates between us, a tether whipping taut from my chest to his. My bones, half-shifted, sing with recognition.
In my mind, my wolf speaks one word, clear and undeniable.
"Mate."
My newly awakened wolf howls.
I choke on the sound.
Down below, Kade staggers, his smile vanishing, his nostrils flaring as the same scent, mine, reaches him. His gaze darkens, shock flaring into something raw and vicious and hungry.
His lips shape the word I never wanted to hear from him.
"Aurora."
Because of course.
Of course the Moon Goddess looked at my pathetic little life and decided this was funny.
My mate is the wolf I hate.
My sister's fiancé.
My cruelest nightmare.
And for the first time in eighteen years, every eye in the pack is about to see me.