All Chapters of The Denali Wolves: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

SOMEONE HAD DOUSED our entire front yard in crimson red while we were eating breakfast. Everything from the bushes to my parent’s windows was splattered with the foul paint with the words ‘Happy Birthday, Murderer’ written in harsh red strokes across the front door, like something right out of a horror flick. A wave of helpless anger simmered inside me, so deep and so raw I felt the sting of bitter tears well up behind my eyes. But there was no use crying. This is not the first time this has happened to me and it certainly won’t be the last. This is my life after all. Goddess knows the Denali wolves would never allow their pack’s pariah a day of happiness, especially on her birthday. No, to them monsters like me are meant to be chained, and if they couldn’t have that, they’d settle for my sanity. “Is anyone else getting that smell?” Becca asked, her nose scrunched up on an inhale. I follow her lead, sniffing the air and not pinpointing the smell until... I almost bring up my breakfa

THE AIR IS CHILLY despite being surrounded by so many hot-blooded shifters in the middle of town. I snuggle deeper into my puffer jacket to get away from the cold—and the several eyes boring into the back of my head. They have been glaring at me ever since I stepped into town. I do my best to ignore it but Goddess is it uncomfortable! I don't want to be here if you couldn’t tell. But alas, Mom needs my help today and I promised I’d pick her up some hot coffee on my way over to help warm her up since we’re in the middle of Autumn and in Denali, it’ll only get colder from here. Luckily, Denali wolves are built for this kind of persistent wintry climate being that we’ve been living on these snowy-capped Mountains for centuries now that we've grown almost resistant to the cold. It also helps that we're especially known for having white, fluffy fur coats in our wolf form that protect us from the worst of the winds, compared to our other shifter neighbors. I follow reluctantly behind Bec

BECCA DROPS the flat iron beside me and spins my chair around to face the mirror. “I’m done,” she announces as I blink away the surprise. My hair, usually curly, now comes down in straight, silky strands hanging all the way past my waist. I sported a smokey eye, sexy red painted lips that I’d never dreamt of wearing till tonight and a light dousing of blush on the apples of my cheeks. Another person is staring back at me. And she's beautiful. “Leo wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you when he sees you,” Becca says. “Even though I wish you’d dump the dumb fuck but beggars can’t be choosers.” I roll my eyes. “Are you forgetting that you’re the one who begged me to get out and find a boyfriend? And when I do you’re not happy.” “Yeah, because I meant Rory from Math class not Leo from Sex Ed,” she deadpanned. I snort. “I like Leo, Becca and he’s been good to me. I think if you gave him a chance, you’d really like him.” She sighs picking an invisible thread from her dress. “I d