To put it nicely, the party was taxing. The music shook the walls, the lights shone too brightly, and everyone seemed to be dancing, chatting, and laughing loudly all at once. Lydia stuck close to Vanessa, her heart racing.
This was new. Naturally, Vanessa blended in perfectly. With her clothe fitting her form perfectly, she strode through the crowd like a queen. People turned to look, guys smiled, girls whispered. Lydia? She felt like a shadow trailing behind her. "Relax, babe, Vanessa said, leaning close to be heard over the music. "You look fine. Just stop standing like a statue, yeah?" Lydia tried to smile, but her eyes were already darting around, searching for a familiar face. Him. She did not want to admit it, but her pulse sped up at the thought of seeing Ethan Laurent. A server passed by with a tray of drinks. Vanessa grabbed two glasses without hesitation and handed one into Lydia's hand. “Here,” Vanessa said with a sly smile Lydia looked at the glass like it was a ticking time bomb. “I’m good, thanks.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, already taking a sip from her own drink. “It is a party, Lydia. You are supposed to drink. Come on, live a little.” “I am living just fine without it,” Lydia replied, trying to hand the glass back, but Vanessa pushed it back toward her. “Lydia, we are at a Luxemount party. No one’s going to trust a wolf who can not handle a little champagne.” Lydia huffed, reluctant, but the look Vanessa gave her—the kind of look that said, do not embarrass me right now—left her no choice. She brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip, the bubbles fizzing against her tongue. “There you go,” Vanessa said, grinning. “That was not so hard, was it?” Lydia just glared at her over the rim of the glass. “I do not trust you, you know that? Vanessa smiled widened. “Good. A wolf that trust too easily does not live long.” Lydia tried to act annoyed, but she could not help smiling. Again, for like the millionth time she found herself scanning the room. Looking at every single face, trying to spot that stupidly perfect jaw, those eyes that had been living rent-free in her head since that whole thing at the police station. Nothing. Her stomach dipped. "Where the hell is he?" she thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek Vanessa noticed. "He will show," she said casually, like she'd read Lydia's mind. "Ethan likes to make an entrance. You know-fashionably late, big impact, all that." "I was not looking for him," Lydia lied Vanessa smirked. "Sure you were not." Before Lydia could fire back, a guy appeared next to Vanessa, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Lydia recognized him immediately-the same guy who had been in their dorm room earlier. “Holy shit,” he said with a crooked smile. “Look who it is—my favorite she-wolf.” Vanessa turned to him, her smile as bright as ever. “Back for more already?” She teased, titling her head to the side. The gesture was pure predator, all confidence and heat. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a rough whisper that still somehow carried over the music. "Upstairs?" Vanessa laughed softly, brushing her head over her shoulder. "You are such a bad influence." She turned to Lydia, giving her a quick pat on the shoulder. "Do not get lost. l will be back soon." "Wait, what?" Lydia started, but Vanessa was already disappearing into the crowd, her hand in his Great. Perfect. Abandoned at her first real party. Lydia sighed, finding the nearest wall to lean against. She stared at her drink, swirling it aimlessly as she tried to convince herself that she did not care. It's fine. I do not need Vanessa to have a good time. But the longer she stood there alone, the more out of place she felt. Several minutes passed. No Vanessa. No Ethan. Just more strangers brushing past her. At this point, Lydia was tired and more than a little pressed. She decided to find Vanessa before heading back to their room. Rule number one of girl code: never leave your friend alone at a party. Especially not one like this. She climbed the stairs, her heels clicking against the floor. The hallway was dimly lit, lined with doors "Vanessa?" she called softly, opening the first door. What she saw made her freeze. Two guys were completely naked. One was lying on his stomach. while the other knelt between his legs, gripping his hips with both hands. They were very...very busy. The guy lying down looked up in shock, his eyes wide, while the other just smirked, completely unbothered. Lydia felt her skin grow hot. "Oh my God, sorry!" she said quickly, bowing her head and backing out of the room. The second that door clicked shut behind her, she pressed her hands to her burning face. What the hell did she just walk in on? She moved to the next door, knocking softly this time before opening the door. Inside, a girl was on a guy's lap, her dress pushed up her thigh as they made out like the world was ending. Lydia shut the door quickly Door after door, the scenes only got wilder. Empty cups everywhere, people shoving their tongues down each other's throats, others just knocked out cold on the couches, and stuff she really wished she could bleach from her brain. By the time she hit the end of that hallway, she was so done. Vanessa can find her own way back, she thought bitterly. I just need a bathroom. She remembered an empty room she had passed earlier and hurried back to it. Once inside, she locked herself in the bathroom, finally letting out the breath she had been holding. She just finished, when she heard voices from the room. “Come here," a guy's voice growled. Actually growled. No, no, no. This cannot be happening. Wet sounds of kissing. The girl giggled. "On your knees," the guy commanded. Lydia pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block it out, but it was pointless. Her hearing picked up every sound-skin slapping against skin, moans, growls. It was loud, raw, and impossible to ignore, like a storm raging just outside the door. It went on forever, or at least it felt like it. Eventually, Lydia gave up and sat down on the toilet, her head in her hands, wishing it would stop. And then, finally, it did. "So," a girl's voice said softly, hesitant. "I thought you said you did not..” "Do not get ahead of yourself" the guy cut in, his voice colder now. "This was just sex." "What?" the girl asked, her voice shaky. "What do you mean? Did it not mean anything to you?" The guy let out a short, bitter laugh. “What did you think this was? Seriously, who the hell do you think you are? Someone special? You are nothing to me. You think sex is enough to change my mind? Please. Sex means nothing. I can get it anytime I want, from anyone I want. You? You are just convenient.” Lydia's blood boiled. She clenched her fists, her heart aching for the girl she did not even know. No one deserves to be treated like this, she thought, silently rooting for the girl to stand up for herself. But instead, the girl started begging. "Please, I thought-" "Just get out," the guy snapped, cutting her off. Lydia shook her head, her anger rising. Do not do this. Do not beg for someone who does not deserve you. The door to the main room opened, then slammed shut. Lydia let out a breath, thinking the nightmare was over. But then she heard it. The heavy sound of footsteps moving towards the bathroom, each thud making Lydia's heart beat faster. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Please do not come in, please do not come in," she whispered, pressing herself against the wall. But the universe had other plans. The door flew open with enough force to make her jump, and there he stood – Ethan Laurent in all his glory. Shirtless. Powerful. Absolutely terrifying. Her eyes betrayed her, trailing down his torso like they had a mind of their own. Perfect abs, carved like they were chiseled from marble. A trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans. The kind of body that belonged on magazine covers, not in some party bathroom. His eyes were golden, and oh the scent of him– sandalwood, and amber laced with a hint of smoky spice, filled the small space. It was rich and warm like standing next to a fire on a cold night– intoxicating and impossible to ignore “Are you stalking me?” And just like that, Lydia's brain completely stopped working. She just stood there, staring at him like a total idiot, until he snapped his fingers right in her face. She blinked hard, trying to get it together. "W-what?" "I said," and god, his voice got even lower, "are you stalking me?" "N-no," she managed to get out, feeling her face getting hot. "Then why," he asked, those golden eyes of his getting all narrow and suspicious, "are you in my space?" Lydia's mouth was not functioning properly, so she tried to utter anything. How could she think clearly when he was staring at her like that? Her mind was racing, trying to think of some justification that didn't sound absolutely foolish. She stumbled, her voice dropping off, "I was...just..." “Just what?” he pressed, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “Looking for Vanessa,” she blurted out finally, taking a step back until her shoulder hit the cold tile wall. “Vanessa?” he repeated. “Right. And you thought she would be hiding in my bathroom?” Locking her arms across her chest as though they might shield her from the intensity of his stare. "I did not know this was your bathroom," She shot back A tiny smirk curved his lips, but it did not get to his eyes. “You always have this much bad luck, Little Trouble?” Lydia blinked. “What?” “That is what you are,” he said, leaning casually against the counter like he was not standing half-naked in a confined space with someone who clearly did not belong there. “Trouble. You stumble into places you should not be, get caught in things you can not handle, and now you are here. In my space.” Her cheeks burned, and she scowled. “I am not trouble.” “Sure you are not.” His smirk widened, and the teasing edge in his voice made her skin prickle. “So, tell me, Little Trouble, why are you really up here?” “I told you.” she said. Despite her heart wanting to pound its way out of her chest, she persisted, "I am looking for Vanessa."With a direct stare, Ethan examined her face so deeply it felt like he was dissecting her core truth, she could feel him stripping off her protective layers. For a moment, it looked like he was about to call her bluff She spoke in a defensive tone, "Look. You must think I have some hidden agenda, but stalking or causing trouble are not my intentions."“Okay.”She blinked. “What?”He raised an eyebrow. “The Vanessa part? That’s true,” he said, his tone nonchalant like he already knew. “A wolf—or maybe just me,” he added, sounding like he was way too impressed with himself, “can tell when someone’s lying.”Then his eyes moved over her slowly. “But the part about not being trouble?” He shook his head. “No. You are hiding something which I cannot figure out precisely."Lydia frowned. “You don’t even know me.”His face approached her as he spoke softly, "I understand one vital fact about you. You don't belong here, Little Trouble. Not at this party. Not in this school. Not anywhere near m
Pain was nothing new to Lydia Bailey.She'd learned early that some people were born to be prey, and some were born to hunt. For years, she'd been convinced she was the former—a walking target, invisible except when someone wanted to remind her how little she mattered.The bruise on her cheek was still fresh from yesterday. Amber Miller's ring had caught her just right, leaving a perfect crescent of purple and blue that matched the loneliness etched into Lydia's bones. Her mother would notice—she always did—but she'd say nothing. Just another silent look. Just another moment of pretending.Silver-dale wasn't a school. It was a battlefield, and Lydia had never learned how to fight back.The morning was typical. Cold. Gray. The kind of morning that promised nothing but more of the same. Lydia adjusted her worn hoodie, pulling it closer, trying to disappear into the fabric. Her fingers traced the new bruise, a ritual of survival she'd perfected over years of being the girl nobody saw—unt
The thing about perfect families is they're anything but perfect.Ethan Laurent knew this better than anyone. From the outside, they looked like the ultimate success story—his father, the most respected alpha in the region, his mother the picture of grace and sophistication. But inside their immaculate mansion? Total disaster waiting to happen.The car's leather seats creaked as he shifted, still buzzing from the earlier confrontation at the police station. His sister, Riley, glanced over, that knowing smirk playing on her lips."So," she drawled, "what do you think Dad's gonna do when he finds out about this?"Ethan snorted. "Who's gonna tell him? You?"Riley raised an eyebrow. "Me? As if." She mimicked their father's stern voice perfectly. "'I wish you would make better choices. I expect more from a Laurent.”They both burst out laughing. It was their favorite game—playing their parents, mocking the suffocating expectations that came with their family name."Speaking of making bette
Survival isn't about dignity. It's about how low you are willing to bend, how much of your soul you are prepared to sell just to keep breathing.Lydia watched her mom crumble. Not metaphorically. Actually crumble. On the cold, dirty floor, hands clasped together, begging Mr. Miller like he was some kind of god"Please," she whispered to Mr. Miller, her voice a ragged thread of broken hope. "Please. We'll do anything."Anything. The word was out now, impossible to take back, waiting to strangle whatever remained of their pride.Mr. Miller stood there, impeccable in his tailored suit, looking down at her mother like she was some curious insect. Amber stood beside him, her eyes cold. This wasn't just about punishment. This was about power. About showing exactly how little people like them mattered."What do you want?" Mr. Miller asked AmberAmber's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Her scholarship. I want it gone. She shouldn’t be in this school anymore. And I want th
The whiskey bottle was half-empty. Half-full. Who the hell even cares?Ethan stared into the glass, his hand shaking slightly. Harper's face kept flashing in his mind. Those last moments. That look in her eyes. "I tried..." she had whispered. And then nothing.He knocked back another drink, wincing at the burn. The kitchen was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed louder than any sound.His phone buzzed. He ignored it. Probably Riley checking on him. Or worse, someone from the pack.Fuck the pack.Fuck everything.Another drink. The liquid blurred the edges of the memory. But not enough. Never enough. Memories tainted by blood are difficult to erase. They become a part of you as they absorb into your bones, skin, heart and soul. Harper's passing left a scar that would never completely go away.The kitchen light suddenly clicked on. Ethan didn't move. Didn't look up. Just kept staring into the glass, watching the whiskey swirl like the memories he couldn't escape."You're d
Luxemount High looked nothing like anything Lydia had ever seen before. Her old school was all glass and modern design, sleek and new. This place? It was like walking into a castle. Massive brick buildings that looked like they had been standing for centuries. The kind of place where you could just tell - money wasn't new here. It was old. Ancient.Kids walked around like they owned the place. And maybe they did. Perfect uniforms. Expensive bags. The type of confident walk that screamed, "My family has been here for generations."Their movement almost felt choreographed. And then there were the looks. Oh, the looks. Some students did not even try to hide their stares. Those calculating eyes that seemed to measure her worth before she had even spoken a word. Rich kids had a way of doing that—sizing you up in seconds.Rebecca glanced at her. "You good?"Lydia nodded, keeping her face neutral. She had made a promise to herself-her mother had already sacrificed so much, and she did not
Lydia stepped out, and the noise in the corridor grew louder. Students gathered on either side of the hallway like fans at an event, their faces filled with excitement and a hint of fear. Lydia squeezed into the crowd, standing on her tiptoes to obtain a clearer view.And then she saw them.Ethan Laurent walked with a confidence that made it impossible not to look at him. Lydia recognized him instantly. That is him. That is her man.How could a guy she’d only seen in passing now be standing right in front of her? Her heart did this weird flip as she took him in. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. His sharp jawline looked like it had been carved by the gods, and his piercing eyes practically dared anyone to challenge him.And then there was the way he carried himself. It was not just walking—it was commanding. Every step radiated authority, as if the room belonged to him and everyone else was just borrowing space. His fashion sense didn’t help either;
With a direct stare, Ethan examined her face so deeply it felt like he was dissecting her core truth, she could feel him stripping off her protective layers. For a moment, it looked like he was about to call her bluff She spoke in a defensive tone, "Look. You must think I have some hidden agenda, but stalking or causing trouble are not my intentions."“Okay.”She blinked. “What?”He raised an eyebrow. “The Vanessa part? That’s true,” he said, his tone nonchalant like he already knew. “A wolf—or maybe just me,” he added, sounding like he was way too impressed with himself, “can tell when someone’s lying.”Then his eyes moved over her slowly. “But the part about not being trouble?” He shook his head. “No. You are hiding something which I cannot figure out precisely."Lydia frowned. “You don’t even know me.”His face approached her as he spoke softly, "I understand one vital fact about you. You don't belong here, Little Trouble. Not at this party. Not in this school. Not anywhere near m
To put it nicely, the party was taxing. The music shook the walls, the lights shone too brightly, and everyone seemed to be dancing, chatting, and laughing loudly all at once. Lydia stuck close to Vanessa, her heart racing. This was new. Naturally, Vanessa blended in perfectly. With her clothe fitting her form perfectly, she strode through the crowd like a queen. People turned to look, guys smiled, girls whispered. Lydia? She felt like a shadow trailing behind her. "Relax, babe, Vanessa said, leaning close to be heard over the music. "You look fine. Just stop standing like a statue, yeah?" Lydia tried to smile, but her eyes were already darting around, searching for a familiar face. Him. She did not want to admit it, but her pulse sped up at the thought of seeing Ethan Laurent. A server passed by with a tray of drinks. Vanessa grabbed two glasses without hesitation and handed one into Lydia's hand. “Here,” Vanessa said with a sly smile Lydia looked at the glass like it was a t
Lydia stepped out, and the noise in the corridor grew louder. Students gathered on either side of the hallway like fans at an event, their faces filled with excitement and a hint of fear. Lydia squeezed into the crowd, standing on her tiptoes to obtain a clearer view.And then she saw them.Ethan Laurent walked with a confidence that made it impossible not to look at him. Lydia recognized him instantly. That is him. That is her man.How could a guy she’d only seen in passing now be standing right in front of her? Her heart did this weird flip as she took him in. His dark hair was perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. His sharp jawline looked like it had been carved by the gods, and his piercing eyes practically dared anyone to challenge him.And then there was the way he carried himself. It was not just walking—it was commanding. Every step radiated authority, as if the room belonged to him and everyone else was just borrowing space. His fashion sense didn’t help either;
Luxemount High looked nothing like anything Lydia had ever seen before. Her old school was all glass and modern design, sleek and new. This place? It was like walking into a castle. Massive brick buildings that looked like they had been standing for centuries. The kind of place where you could just tell - money wasn't new here. It was old. Ancient.Kids walked around like they owned the place. And maybe they did. Perfect uniforms. Expensive bags. The type of confident walk that screamed, "My family has been here for generations."Their movement almost felt choreographed. And then there were the looks. Oh, the looks. Some students did not even try to hide their stares. Those calculating eyes that seemed to measure her worth before she had even spoken a word. Rich kids had a way of doing that—sizing you up in seconds.Rebecca glanced at her. "You good?"Lydia nodded, keeping her face neutral. She had made a promise to herself-her mother had already sacrificed so much, and she did not
The whiskey bottle was half-empty. Half-full. Who the hell even cares?Ethan stared into the glass, his hand shaking slightly. Harper's face kept flashing in his mind. Those last moments. That look in her eyes. "I tried..." she had whispered. And then nothing.He knocked back another drink, wincing at the burn. The kitchen was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed louder than any sound.His phone buzzed. He ignored it. Probably Riley checking on him. Or worse, someone from the pack.Fuck the pack.Fuck everything.Another drink. The liquid blurred the edges of the memory. But not enough. Never enough. Memories tainted by blood are difficult to erase. They become a part of you as they absorb into your bones, skin, heart and soul. Harper's passing left a scar that would never completely go away.The kitchen light suddenly clicked on. Ethan didn't move. Didn't look up. Just kept staring into the glass, watching the whiskey swirl like the memories he couldn't escape."You're d
Survival isn't about dignity. It's about how low you are willing to bend, how much of your soul you are prepared to sell just to keep breathing.Lydia watched her mom crumble. Not metaphorically. Actually crumble. On the cold, dirty floor, hands clasped together, begging Mr. Miller like he was some kind of god"Please," she whispered to Mr. Miller, her voice a ragged thread of broken hope. "Please. We'll do anything."Anything. The word was out now, impossible to take back, waiting to strangle whatever remained of their pride.Mr. Miller stood there, impeccable in his tailored suit, looking down at her mother like she was some curious insect. Amber stood beside him, her eyes cold. This wasn't just about punishment. This was about power. About showing exactly how little people like them mattered."What do you want?" Mr. Miller asked AmberAmber's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Her scholarship. I want it gone. She shouldn’t be in this school anymore. And I want th
The thing about perfect families is they're anything but perfect.Ethan Laurent knew this better than anyone. From the outside, they looked like the ultimate success story—his father, the most respected alpha in the region, his mother the picture of grace and sophistication. But inside their immaculate mansion? Total disaster waiting to happen.The car's leather seats creaked as he shifted, still buzzing from the earlier confrontation at the police station. His sister, Riley, glanced over, that knowing smirk playing on her lips."So," she drawled, "what do you think Dad's gonna do when he finds out about this?"Ethan snorted. "Who's gonna tell him? You?"Riley raised an eyebrow. "Me? As if." She mimicked their father's stern voice perfectly. "'I wish you would make better choices. I expect more from a Laurent.”They both burst out laughing. It was their favorite game—playing their parents, mocking the suffocating expectations that came with their family name."Speaking of making bette
Pain was nothing new to Lydia Bailey.She'd learned early that some people were born to be prey, and some were born to hunt. For years, she'd been convinced she was the former—a walking target, invisible except when someone wanted to remind her how little she mattered.The bruise on her cheek was still fresh from yesterday. Amber Miller's ring had caught her just right, leaving a perfect crescent of purple and blue that matched the loneliness etched into Lydia's bones. Her mother would notice—she always did—but she'd say nothing. Just another silent look. Just another moment of pretending.Silver-dale wasn't a school. It was a battlefield, and Lydia had never learned how to fight back.The morning was typical. Cold. Gray. The kind of morning that promised nothing but more of the same. Lydia adjusted her worn hoodie, pulling it closer, trying to disappear into the fabric. Her fingers traced the new bruise, a ritual of survival she'd perfected over years of being the girl nobody saw—unt