THIRTEEN

THIRTEEN
ARIA

“Wait, what are you even saying? I’m not hot, and what do you mean you want to see which boys react? That’s terrifying.” My voice wobbles a bit, especially since she’s now giving me a look like I’m her next conquest.

“I saw the way those guys were watching you at training and again after school. You’re not as invisible as you think, and I’m going to prove it. Even your brother looked a little surprised.”

“I highly doubt that,” I muttered. “My brother, like my dad, only pays attention to strategy and rank. Since I’m not part of their plans, I don’t exactly register on their radar.”

I shoot her a dry look. “But thanks for trying. That was adorable.”

“I don’t care what you say—I’m still dressing you up tonight. It’s happening.” She grinned like she’d already won.

I groaned. “How attractive can someone possibly look bundled up in a coat and a hat? You’re being ridiculous.”

Selene just laughed and grabbed my wrist, dragging me into her closet without another word.

Two hours later, we were making our way down the curved loop of houses on our street, coming from her place. I was wearing a bright blue coat over a fitted tee and dark-wash jeans.

My blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and Selene had somehow talked me into light makeup and pale pink lip gloss. The black combat boots were mine, though. I wasn’t about to give those up.

All the ranked pack members lived on this block. Our homes were arranged in a wide 'U' with the driveways forming the center and the forest lining the backs of our manicured yards.

It was perfect for going on quick runs—one of the reasons I’d managed to keep my shifts a secret from my dad and brother so far.

At the heart of the ‘U’ was the packhouse where Alpha Lucas lived with Luna Sage, Max, and Jade. On the right sat the Beta house—where Dad, Milo, and I lived.

On the left was the Gamma house, home to Gamma Brett and Ethan. Next to that was the Delta residence, where Delta Nolan lived with Gwen and Leo.

Beside them was an Elite warrior named Ben, who lived with his young family. Our house was flanked by two others, both housing more Elite warriors.

One of them, I now knew, belonged to Selene’s aunt and uncle.

I recognized everyone by sight, of course—but I didn’t engage much outside training. I kept my distance. Always had.

Raven had made it painfully clear that anyone who got close to me became a target. If I fought back, she retaliated by hurting pack members. Usually pups. And I couldn’t risk that—not for anything.

No family deserved to suffer just because Raven had a grudge or a bruised ego.

Last spring, before I got my wolf and all the fast reflexes that came with her, Raven cornered me. She wanted the answers to a history exam she hadn’t studied for—too busy chasing after Max and Jade, as usual.

I told her no. She failed the test miserably and swore I’d pay for it. I still don’t know if she targeted Ben’s daughter on purpose or if the girl was just unlucky, but what happened next proved how far Raven would go.

She and her two usual shadows, along with some omega guy I didn’t recognize, ambushed the girl. They threw a bag over her head and dragged her to the side of the school. The guy stomped down on her leg until it snapped.

Later that night, I received an anonymous message with a video attached. Just a few chilling seconds of the assault, along with five words that still make my stomach turn: next time choose better.

The footage was careful—only the guy’s lower legs and hands were visible, along with the girl. No faces. No names. Just enough to threaten. I took it to my dad right away, but by the time he opened the device, the video and the message had both disappeared.

He said I was being dramatic. Claimed I was trying to insert myself into petty school rivalries and jealous of the attention the “popular” girls got from the boys. He didn’t even consider that it might be real.

That was the last time I ever went to him for help.

The truth? He never really listened to me. Not properly. He was always more invested in his reports, his files, his duties for the Alpha. Even when I was talking, his mind was always somewhere else.

Eventually, I just stopped trying.

I don’t eat in the formal dining room with him or Milo anymore. I haven’t for years. When I still had my nanny, we’d take our meals in her suite—unless guests were over. That was the routine.

It never felt strange until seventh grade, when she was suddenly dismissed. Apparently, I was now “old enough” to fend for myself.

No one actually bothered to tell me, though.

That first night, I went to her rooms for dinner and found them empty. I searched the house until I heard voices from the formal dining room.

My father and brother were seated at the long table, enjoying a lavish meal like nothing had changed.

My father didn’t even look up when he said, “She was needed for a more important child. Don’t interrupt dinner again.”

I ran out of the room crying. Neither of them came after me.

Now, I eat in the kitchen with the cook. She lets me help with cleanup when we’re finished, and she never asks why I’m there. But sometimes, when she looks at me, I catch that flicker of pity in her eyes.

And honestly? That stings more than the loneliness ever did.