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 better choices," Riley nudged him, "want to talk about your latest... adventure?" Ethan rolled his eyes. "Not a chance." Their father's version of leadership was all about control. Appearances. Reputation. The perfect alpha facade that meant absolutely nothing beneath the surface. Ethan had watched his parents' marriage—a political arrangement masked as a love story. Cold. Calculated. Nothing like real connection. "Bet Dad would lose his mind if he knew half the stuff I get up to," Ethan muttered. Riley laughed. "Like he's one to talk. Mr. 'Perfect Alpha' has his own secrets." The car passed through streets lined with trees, their family's territory stretching out like an invisible kingdom. Ethan knew every inch of this land. it had been drilled into him from the start. He was meant to be the perfect heir, the future alpha, the one to carry their pack forward. But deep down, he’d spent just as much time trying to escape that fate as he had preparing for it. If they only knew. "Seriously," Riley said, her voice softening, "what are we going to do?" Ethan's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "Same thing we always do. Survive." The Laurent pack wasn't just another werewolf family. They were old blood. Pure lineage. The kind of pack that traced its roots back to the original wolf clans. Powerful didn't begin to describe them—ruthless was closer. In their world, one mistake could cost you everything. The car came to a stop. Before they could even open the doors, their father was already walking out. Alexander Laurent wasn't just an alpha. He was THE alpha—the kind of leader other packs feared and respected. "Get inside," he called, his voice carrying a weight that was part command, part threat. Riley squeezed Ethan's hand briefly—their silent signal of support. They might drive each other crazy, but when it came to facing their father, they were united. "Full moon's coming," Riley whispered. "And you know what that means." The Laurent pack had traditions. Brutal, ancient traditions that separated the strong from the weak. And Ethan was about to be at the center of it all. The basement was cold. Dark. The kind of space that made your skin crawl even before you saw the three young wolves chained near the far wall. Ethan could smell their fear. They were not prisoners, but potential pack initiates. It was the night before the most brutal test in their pack's history—the Moon Challenge. Every year, young wolves between 16 and 18 competed for pack positions. Survival wasn't guaranteed. Some died. Some were permanently scarred. Some were banished. Their father, Alpha Alexander Laurent, stood monitoring the potential initiates. Each candidate represented a potential asset or liability to the pack's future. "Ethan," his father's voice cut through the room. "You'll oversee the first phase of testing tomorrow." Ethan's stomach dropped. Testing? More like elimination. In his head, a voice—small but insistent was screaming. How could this be on me? How could I be responsible for these people getting hurt? What kind of test was this? Something that might actually end with people being casualties? But no one—absolutely no one talked back to Alpha Alexander Laurent. Not if they wanted to make it out in one piece Riley caught her brother's eye. A quick, sharp nudge. Her message was crystal clear: Say something. Anything. But don't you dare stay silent. Their father wasn't asking. Wasn't suggesting. This was a command disguised as a statement. The Laurent way. Ethan swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he managed, the words feeling like sandpaper in his throat. These initiates would fight. Brutally. Some would transform. Some would break. The Laurent pack didn't believe in mercy. "Choose wisely," their father said. "The pack's future depends on your judgment." His words crushed Ethan like a ton of bricks. He knew that even the slightest hesitation, the smallest misstep would come with consequences he couldn’t afford. He forced out a "Yes, sir," not because he meant it but because it was expected. The words left his mouth on instinct, a habit carved into him over the years Alpha Alexander Laurent's steel-gray eyes bored into him, unblinking. Not a hint of pride. No approval. Just the cold, clinical look of a man dissecting a problem, calculating risks, deciding if his own son was one worth taking. To Alpha Alexander, Ethan wasn't a son. He was a tool. And tools were only useful until they broke. Riley stood beside Ethan, her hands folded neatly in front of her. To anyone else, she looked composed and unshaken but Ethan knew better. He could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her fingers trembled just a little. Small details no one else would catch. She was holding it together, but just barely. Because in the Laurent family, showing even a hint of weakness was unacceptable. Vulnerability wasn't just frowned upon. It was a death sentence. Alpha Alexander took a step closer. "The first phase isn't about muscle," he said. “It's about leadership. It's about knowing when to save and when to sacrifice." His hand landed on Ethan's shoulder, heavy and deliberate. The kind of touch that carried a message: Don't screw this up, or l'll make you regret being born. "You do what's necessary," Alpha Alexander continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You understand what's expected of you." Ethan nodded, his throat tight. He didn't trust himself to speak without messing up. Alpha Alexander started walking out of the room. Halfway to the door, he stopped and turned to look at Riley. Her head lifted instinctively, like prey caught in a predator’s line of sight. “Make yourself useful,” he said sharply, his voice cold and dismissive before walking out without waiting for a response Riley didn’t flinch, but Ethan saw the way her fingers curled into a fists at her sideSurvival 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;
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
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
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