Chapter 1

Claire's POV

I watched with anticipation, my heart pounding, as Dylan brought the glass of wine to his lips. "C'mon bastard, drink up!" I muttered under my breath, the words barely escaping past my clenched teeth.

This was my own small token of appreciation, my way of getting back at him for the lifetime of hell he had put me through. My hands trembled slightly, but I kept my gaze fixed on him, watching intently as he gulped down the drink. A twisted sense of satisfaction spread through me, and I couldn't suppress the smile tugging at my lips. This is payback!

The night was warmer than usual for mid-summer, the air thick with heat and the scent of fresh grass. It didn’t matter much to me though. Everyone was dressed casually, shorts, tank tops, and the carefree vibe of a summer party hanging in the air. People laughed, danced, and flirted. But for me, there was only one thing on my mind: revenge.

The open field was alive with noise, the chatter and laughter of the pack members filling the space. Most of them were teenagers, caught up in the typical rites of passage. As I stood off to the side, I couldn’t help but feel the odd one out. My dad was off doing his own thing, like everyone else’s parents. I was alone in my mission. Alone in my hatred.

"Hey freak! Come feel my cup!" Dylan hollered, his voice slurred with the drunkenness I had hoped to see. 

I gritted my teeth, forcing my body to move through the crowd. The moment they saw me coming, the pack scattered, as if a plague had been unleashed. It didn’t bother me. In fact, it made everything easier. No one wanted to get poisoned or killed by the "witch," as they liked to call me. Good. The fewer distractions, the better. 

I could feel the seconds stretch into eternity as I watched him down the drink. The poison wasn’t going to take effect immediately, I had made sure of that, but the five-minute wait felt like an hour. A grin tugged at my lips. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

As I poured more of the drink into his cup, Dinah, his arm candy, whispered something in his ear. He threw his head back in laughter, the sound booming through the night, and I swore under my breath as he spilled some of the drink on my shirt. 

My anger flared instantly. I gasped, but he didn’t seem to care, too lost in his own amusement to notice. He turned to kiss Dinah, completely oblivious to my rage, and I could feel my hands balling into fists. My chest tightened with fury, but I simply turned and stalked off toward a table, hastily grabbing some tissue paper to wipe it off. 

Lucky for me, it was black, it hid the stain well enough. 

I could think of many things to call Dylan, but "the devil incarnate" seemed to fit best. He was the embodiment of everything wrong in this world, sent to torment me. But tonight? Tonight was different. This was my reckoning. 

I didn't care that he was the alpha’s son. If no one else had the courage to punish him, I would gladly be the one to do it. 

I finished cleaning up and looked up just in time to see him disappearing into his cabin. I took a breath, steeling myself for the next part of my plan. 

When he finally emerged, my smile couldn’t be contained. His once smooth skin had transformed into a landscape of red, inflamed pimples. The sight was so satisfying that I almost laughed out loud. 

Dinah’s face was a picture of horror, her mouth dropping open as she looked at him. I could feel a rush of triumph inside me, a deep satisfaction. 

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked, his voice confused as he stared at his reflection. 

Dinah couldn’t answer, only pointing at him, her shock evident. 

The crowd around them gasped, their murmurs filling the air. Some tried to hide their smiles, but they were too late. The damage was done. His face—his smooth, perfect face, was now marred. His confusion mixed with the laughter of others as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

I couldn't help the laughter bubbling up in my chest. His miserable, horrified expression was everything I had dreamed of. 

Unable to get an answer from Dinah, he turned to his friends, but all they could do was burst into fits of laughter. He was losing control, and I could see the anger flaring in his eyes. 

This was better than I had hoped. 

Annoyed, he stormed off toward his house, shoving people out of his way. I could hear the muttered complaints as they stepped aside for him, but it didn’t matter. His humiliation was mine to savor.

A scream rang out from the cabin, and I knew immediately that my work was complete. He had seen himself in the mirror. It was all I needed to confirm that I had succeeded. The poison, the perfect prank—I was satisfied.

But before I could slip away into the crowd, I heard his voice. "Where is she?" Dylan yelled, his face red with rage. "That witch! Where is she?"

I couldn't help the thrill of fear that spiked through me, but I kept my face impassive, pretending not to care. 

"Where is who?" Dinah asked, rushing to his side, her voice laced with concern.

"You know who the idiot is!" Dylan shouted, his anger rising. 

I knew he was looking for me, and my heart raced. I had to act quickly. Slipping into the crowd, I melted away, moving silently toward the backdoor of his house. If I was going to hide, it had to be somewhere no one would think to look, his territory. 

I made my way behind the house, my steps quick and quiet. The backdoor was my route to his room, and soon I was hidden safely in his wardrobe. The faint sound of Dylan’s voice searching for me made my heart beat faster. The plan was working.

I waited, every second dragging on longer than the last. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, the house fell quiet. 

Then, my wolf howled, and a sweet scent I didn’t recognize filled the air, almost intoxicating in its warmth. Confusion surged through me, my heart hammering in my chest. My instincts screamed, but I couldn’t make sense of it.

I cracked open the door of the wardrobe just a fraction, trying to locate the source of the scent. But before I could fully open it, the door was yanked open from the outside. I froze, my blood running cold as a face I never thought I’d see filled my vision.

It was him. Dylan, standing there with a mixture of confusion and surprise. His friends stood behind him, equally startled. 

No. No way. This couldn’t be happening.

My heart skipped a beat, and a horrible, sinking feeling settled in my stomach. From the look on his now pimple-free face, it was clear that he had no idea what was going on either. 

Then it hit me. The realization was a sharp jolt in my mind. This could only mean one thing.

I had found my mate. 

No. Not him. It couldn’t be him. 

I recoiled at the thought, disgust churning in my gut. The very idea repulsed me.

But before he could say a word, I quickly spoke, my voice cold and firm. "I reject you."