Chapter 2 — Rainn
I have no idea why I thought taking a nap would calm my mind. I’ve been in a state for days, and it has nothing to do with the responsibility of leading my pack or dealing with a change in my life, or any of the other reasons my Dad keeps suggesting from the wolf shifter psychology book that has never left his bedside since he made peace with the fact that he, a human, would be raising a wolf alone.
Since Mom was murdered.
Since I turned eighteen last year, my obsession with finding out the truth about what happened to my mother has intensified until, most days, it’s all I think about.
I need to know what happened that day ten years ago, and I need to make someone pay.
Pushing myself off my bed, I toss a glare around the confines of my room, my anger intense and looking for a direction. What even is a nap? Whoever came up with that word?
Outside my room, the house is quiet. I barely notice my surroundings, taking the stairs two at a time and deliberately ignoring all the framed pictures on the walls. Me, Dad, and sometimes, Mom. Pictures from before.
Downstairs, I can hear my dad talking in his study. He’s in a virtual meeting, discussing the symbols and motifs in fairy tales. He’s a professor of mythology at Clear Ridge College, where I’m a sophomore, and he spends every day deeply immersed in stories and their hidden messages.
I walk past his door and head to the kitchen. Ours is a modern kitchen, like the rest of the house. Everything is white and chrome, with large clear-glass windows over the sink showing a view of thick woods and the sun setting over the trees.
Ten years ago, we’d just moved in, and Mom had been in love with the new house and excited to decorate. And then, before we’d even finished unpacking, she was gone.
The memory is followed by a now familiar rage and helplessness. I need to know who did it.
Our housekeeper, Marielle, has left for the day, but there’s a prepared dinner on covered dishes on the kitchen island. I know not to wait for Dad; he could be in his study till midnight. I serve myself and dig in. Marielle is a good cook and the best housekeeper. Pulling myself out of my thoughts of revenge, I make a mental note to get her a random gift to make her smile.
“Hey, son.” I'm surprised when my father joins me in the kitchen. “I see you started without me.” He’s tall, like me, and dark-haired. Dressed in a sweater over a shirt and pants, he looks every inch the academic. “Hungry, huh?”
I shrug, watching as he makes a plate, then seats himself opposite me. He studies my face for a long moment, and I can see all the unasked questions brimming under his steady gaze. “I wondered if you’d like to travel over the summer,” he says after a while. “Maybe to Europe. Just to see a bit of the world.”
I don’t reply.
“It’ll be good for you—”
“Dad,” I interrupt in a low voice.
He sighs. “I know you need to be here for your pack.” His voice is tinged with resignation. “But you’re also young. There’s so much—”
I haven’t been young since that night ten years ago. “I’m not young,” I say quietly. “I’m an alpha.”
“Rainn, your mother wouldn’t have wanted—”
“She’s dead.”
He starts to say something, then stops himself. He takes a deep breath and then focuses on his food. We eat in silence while the sun sets over the trees.
“Well, if there’s…”
“I’m going to…”
We speak at the same time. I meet his gaze, and he stops talking.
“I’m going to go for a run,” I tell him, then rise to my feet.
His helpless concern touches something inside me. “When will you be back?” he asks.
“Don’t wait up.”
I feel his eyes on me as I walk out of the kitchen and into the backyard. On one side, there’s a pool, and on the other, a path that leads toward the woods. The house is surrounded by miles of wood that get thicker and thicker until the forest takes over, and human civilization is a chaotic dream that’s too far away to matter.
I take the path to the forest, reaching for my t-shirt and pulling it over my head as I walk. Even across the distance, I can hear my dad rise and walk over to the window to watch me. He’s not part of my pack, so I can’t feel his emotions or see his thoughts, but I’m attuned enough to know that he’s frustrated at the growing distance between us.
I pull off my pants, barely conscious of the cool evening air on my skin. A mirthless laugh escapes my lips. It’s not just a growing distance—it’s a widening gulf.
I’m a wolf. An alpha. A leader of the pack. I belong to a different world. One only a few can navigate.
I’m no one’s little boy.
I’m a wolf whose mother and almost all the shifted wolves in her pack were murdered one night in the forest.
I’m an alpha who’s obsessed with finding the truth and delivering justice…and vengeance.
I tear off my briefs as soon as I’m inside the cover of the trees. Naked, I start to run. Fast. My transformation happens mid-stride, with both feet in the air. I throw off my human body, and huge paws replace feet; keen senses replace dull ones. I run like the wolf I am. And in this state, I allow my rage, grief, and hunger for revenge to run free.