Malia"How could you do this, Amara?" I demanded, disbelief and hurt thickening my voice. "To Corey? To both of them? I thought you cared about them."Amara’s face flushed, her gaze darting to the floor. "It’s… not that simple, Malia. You don’t understand the whole story.""Really?" I cut her off, a bitter edge in my tone as my anger hardened into resolve. "Because it looks exactly like what happened with Avan and Savannah. The only difference here, Amara, is that you’re messing with twin brothers. Do you know how messed up that is?"She flinched, her lips parting as if to argue, but I didn’t let her. Not this time. "You of all people should know why I can’t be friends with you anymore, Amara. You’ve triggered memories I was trying to move on from. And I can't pretend like it’s okay."For a moment, Amara’s expression softened, but then a flicker of resentment flashed in her eyes. "You’re being judgmental, Malia. You don’t even know the truth behind this. It’s unfair."The way she sai
Malia The early morning light filtered into my room as I stirred, groggily realizing Corey’s side of the bed was empty. I sat up, noticing a note on my bedside table with his distinct handwriting: Thank you for last night. I sighed, relieved that nothing had happened between us. We were going to kiss, but we stopped ourselves at the same time and instead just slept together on my bed. It was only in that quiet moment, alone, that I realized my feelings for Corey had been because I was emotionally exhausted and vulnerable. My heart still belonged to Asher—messy, complicated as it was. Corey's visit had been comforting, but the resemblance to Asher’s own late-night visit was what got me in my feelings. After gathering myself, I headed to school, navigating the day on autopilot. I signed up for extra combat training as I was told to —anything to strengthen myself against the fight that is STILL happening between me, Nina and Jamie. I wasn't yet so sure how the fight would go,
Malia “Fine. But just so you know, it’s probably going to be just you and me in on this plan,” I finally said, settling on my decision. “What? Why?” Nina asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Well, for starters, Jamie, Corey, and Amara just got into a massive fight. None of them are speaking to each other, so there’s no chance they’ll work together.” Nina scoffed. “She’s still messing around with both of them without either knowing?” I blinked. “W-what? Who told you that?” “They were my friends too, you know. Except they started acting weird after I told them Amara was using them,” she said, crossing her arms. I hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "Oh, well, that’s—whatever. The point is, we can’t involve them. Their emotions would ruin everything.” “Right.” She sighed, looking unimpressed. “So what was the plan before the whole ‘love triangle’ fiasco?” “We were going to raid the library’s restricted section, find something on enchantments,” I replied, bracing for h
JamieTwo weeks. That’s how long it’s been since the blowup between me, Corey, and Amara—the accusations, the tension, and, honestly, a mess I hadn’t known how to fix. Malia, Nina, and I had been practicing with our different coaches in preparation for the combat showdown. But on this particular day, we trained the whole day and were excused from classes. These past weeks I haven't been on speaking terms with Malia. She seemed like she was really bothered by my behavior with Amara, but if she understood the circumstances that led to it all, she wouldn't be so judgmental. I finished my training pretty quickly and watched as the training field stretched out before me. I was trying to reflect on my performance as I sat under a tree, but my focus was split, drifting between Malia and the conversation that I knew we’d eventually have. Mr. Diaz had been pushing her hard, and from the sidelines, I winced as I saw her drop to the ground, covered in mud and drenched with sweat. When trai
MaliaI made my way to the girls' locker room, grateful for a moment to breathe before I had to face Asher. Dirt clung to my arms and legs, the result of being shoved into the mud more times than I cared to count, thanks to Coach Diaz’s relentless drills. I was a mess, inside and out, and I needed a quick shower if I was going to show up in Asher’s office with even a shred of dignity. As I stepped into the locker room, my conversation with Jamie still weighed heavily on me. I hadn’t stopped thinking about it, even as I pulled off my muddy training clothes and turned on the shower. The water cascaded over me, but it didn’t do much to wash away the guilt settling like a stone in my chest. I had jumped to so many conclusions about Jamie and Amara, judging them without even knowing the whole story. Now, it was all I could think about.Jamie had really opened up, trusted me with the truth—their truth—and I’d seen how much pain they’d all been through. If I had just asked, if I’d liste
MaliaAfter leaving Asher's office, the cool air outside did little to settle the churning in my stomach. My hands trembled at my side, and I almost forgot to breathe, nervousness eating me up from within. I was so busy with my own thoughts that I nearly jumped at the sight of Savannah standing before me with my uniform and phone in her hand, looking way too pleased with herself. “You’ve been busy,” Savannah said, swinging the bag lazily. “Still trying to get some special treatment from the Alpha, I see.”I didn’t respond. I wasn’t in the mood for her games, not after the day I’d had. I stepped forward, reaching for my bag, but Savannah pulled it back, holding it just out of reach. “Savannah, I’m not in the mood,” I warned, my voice low and steady.“Not in the mood?” She laughed bitterly. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Prancing around like you’re some innocent victim when everyone knows you’re still trying to crawl your way into Asher’s bed till now!”That did it. My
Malia I fumbled through my bag, desperately searching for anything that might help. My fingers brushed against my phone, and for a brief, shining moment, hope sparked. But when I pressed the power button, the screen stayed dark. My stomach twisted with dread. “It’s over,” I whispered shakily to myself, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m never getting out.” The darkness of the trunk pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless. The air felt heavy, each breath harder to draw. Panic clawed at my chest, every nerve in my body screaming for escape. I tugged at the restraints on my wrists again, but the ropes bit into my skin, refusing to budge. Just as the walls of the trunk seemed to close in on me completely, the metallic click of the lock broke through the oppressive silence. My body stiffened, my heart hammering wildly. The lid creaked open, flooding the confined space with blinding light. I flinched, throwing up my hands to shield my eyes as the silhouette of a figure loomed abo
MaliaThe message from Nina glowed on my screen like a beacon of hope: “I have the book that we can use to free Asher.” My heart raced as I reread it, the words almost too good to be true. A smile broke across my face, the first real one in what felt like an eternity. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that things might finally change. “Why are you grinning like that?” Jamie asked from the driver’s seat, his tone a mix of confusion and suspicion. His eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. “Did Corey wake up and crack a joke or something?” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just got a text from Nina.” At that, Jamie’s expression soured instantly. “You’re still talking to Nina? Is she your new best friend or something?” “It’s not like that,” I explained quickly, holding up my phone as if the screen could somehow absolve me. “She’s not exactly my best friend, Jamie. Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either. But she wants the old Asher back too, and she says she has
AsherI ended the call with the harp twins and slipped my phone into my pocket, my mind spinning. Every instinct in me screamed that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t just some twisted revenge from Jamie. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew that the girl Jamie had wasn’t some imposter. It was Malia. The real Malia. And she was running out of time. I had to get to her. Now. I turned toward the door, already planning the fastest route to Storm Pack territory, when a cold shiver ran down my spine. My steps slowed. The air grew heavy—thick, charged with something unnatural. Magic. I spun just as the lights in the hallway dimmed and the temperature dropped. A gust of wind howled through the room, shattering the calm. The shadows stretched unnaturally long, curling across the walls like living things. And then—they appeared. Three hooded figures emerged from the darkness, dressed in heavy black robes embroidered with silver runes. Their faces were hidden beneath the hoods, but their pr
MaliaI couldn’t take it anymore—his voice, his accusations, the constant weight of his blame pressing down on me. Every word Jamie spoke was like a knife slicing through what little strength I had left. My body ached, the ropes biting into my wrists and ankles, the gag dry and scratchy against my lips. My throat burned for water, but no one cared. No one would listen. Maybe this was it—maybe I was meant to die here, tied to a post in the woods like some kind of monster. A witch. I let my head fall back against the rough bark behind me, my hair falling wild and tangled over my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of Jamie’s voice as he muttered under his breath. He was pacing now, but his anger hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown darker, heavier. It didn’t matter what I did. Nothing I said would ever convince him—or anyone—that I wasn’t the person who accused Corey. That I wasn’t the reason his brother was dead. They had already made up their minds.
Malia As the hours dragged on, the mob slowly began to thin out. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees, but some wolves remained—hovering on the edges, eager to witness my punishment if Asher didn’t come. Their eyes burned with hatred and bloodlust, and no matter how much I tried to avoid their stares, I could still feel their judgment pressing down on me like a crushing weight. My throat burned with thirst. The gag chafed against the corners of my mouth, and every breath felt shallow and strained. My limbs were aching from being tied in the same position for so long, and the rough ropes dug into my wrists with every twitch. I tried to swallow against the dryness in my throat, but it only made the ache worse. I tried to make a sound—something, anything—to get someone’s attention. My voice was weak and muffled beneath the gag, but I hoped someone—anyone—would notice that I needed water. My tongue felt thick and heavy, and I was starting to feel di
MaliaThe ropes cut into my wrists, burning my skin with every slight movement. My arms were stretched above my head, bound tightly to the thick wooden post behind me. I could barely breathe around the filthy cloth stuffed into my mouth. My legs trembled beneath me, but I forced myself to stay upright. If I fell, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to get back up. The air was thick with the smell of earth and pine, but it did nothing to mask the scent of anger—raw and violent—hanging over the crowd. Dozens of wolves surrounded me, their eyes burning with hatred. Their snarls filled the clearing, echoing through the woods. “Witch!” one of them growled. “Burn her!” another voice shouted from the crowd. A low, rhythmic chant began to rise. “Witch. Witch. Witch.”Tears blurred my vision, sliding down my face as I shook my head. I wanted to scream—to tell them they were wrong—but the gag muffled every sound. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out their voices, but I couldn’t
Asher I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. Time seemed to have slipped away, leaving me adrift in a sea of confusion and dread. The lingering scent of smoke, acrid and sharp, was the only tangible evidence of the terrifying encounter with Rayna. I pushed myself up, my body protesting with a groan. My head pounded, a dull ache that mirrored the turmoil in my mind. Rayna’s words echoed in the silence of the room, each syllable a dagger twisting in my heart. “You will have the whole world against you, Asher.”I stumbled to my feet, my legs shaky, my thoughts a whirlwind of fear and regret. Rayna was gone. Vanished, like a phantom in the night. But the consequences of her presence, of her revelations, were all too real. I looked around the living room, the familiar space now tainted with the memory of her chilling laughter, her fiery display of power. It felt like a different place, a place where my illusions had shattered, leaving behind only the cold, hard reality of
Asher The flames danced in her palms, a mocking display of power that sent a chill deeper than any winter wind through my bones. My mind reeled, trying to reconcile the gentle woman I thought I knew with this…person before me. “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice rough, barely a whisper. “What have you done with Malia?”The laughter that spilled from her lips was like ice on fire, a sound that scraped against my soul. It wasn’t Malia’s laugh. It was sharper, colder, laced with an amusement that bordered on cruelty. “Malia?” she echoed, tilting her head. The fire in her hands crackled, throwing flickering shadows across the room. “Such a quaint notion.”A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I stumbled back, my hand grasping for the edge of the table. “You’re not her,” I breathed, the realization hitting me with the force of a physical blow. “You’re not Malia.”Her smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a little too sharp, a little too predatory. “That's right,” she
AsherThe room felt like it was shrinking. The walls pressed in, the air thick and suffocating. I gripped the edge of my desk, fingers digging into the wood as I struggled to steady my breathing. My vision blurred at the edges, the faint flicker of candlelight casting long, trembling shadows across the walls. My heart was racing—pounding against my ribs with a force so violent that it hurt. I couldn’t stop the tremors in my hands. The weight in my chest was unbearable, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something I had convinced myself I was immune to. Panic. Not the kind I felt in battle—not the sharp, fleeting rush of adrenaline that kept me moving, kept me fighting. No, this was different. It was cold and heavy, sinking into my bones and coiling around my throat like a vice. Because for two weeks, I had believed—no, I had known—that I was right. I had done what needed to be done. Corey had to die. His death wasn’t just necessary; it was justice.He had hu
MaliaEverything was slipping away.Black spots flickered in my vision, and my limbs felt heavy, useless. Jamie's grip was unrelenting, his hand a vice around my throat, cutting off my air, my thoughts—everything.I thrashed, kicking weakly, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t letting go. Everything around me was a confusing blur. I saw flames and angry faces, but nothing made sense. I clawed at his hand, my nails scraping against his skin, but his hold remained unshakeable. Panic clawed at my throat, a cold fist squeezing the last vestiges of air from my lungs. I thought this was it.Just as darkness threatened to swallow me whole, his grip loosened, and I collapsed like a ragdoll. My knees hit the hard ground, pain shooting up my legs, but I barely felt it. I sucked in a desperate, ragged breath, my throat burning, my lungs aching. Air flooded into my lungs, feeling painful and intense. I coughed violently, gasping, my hands shaking as I reached for my bruised neck. Jamie had let
Malia*Present day*The air was thick with smoke and the raw scent of sweat and fury. I stood off to the side, partially hidden by the jagged remains of a collapsed wall, watching as Jamie faced down the Lycan guards. His hair, once a shade lighter, had darkened in the past two weeks, as if grief had stripped the warmth from him. But it was his eyes that unsettled me the most. Behind the familiar glasses, his irises glowed an unnatural green—a sign of a vengeful Alpha. A warning to all who dared to stand in his way. "Give me my brother’s body." His voice rang through the tense silence like a blade being unsheathed. The crowd of wolves behind him—Storm Pack, rogue allies, and furious onlookers—rumbled in agreement, their anger a living, breathing thing. The Lycan guards, their silver-plated armor catching the flickering firelight, held their ground. Shields locked, weapons drawn, their stances unyielding. "You are not permitted entry into Lycone," one of the guards stated, hi