Chapter 4

Katherine POV

I followed the stream of students into the locker room, trying to remain invisible as I changed into the standard-issue gym clothes. The navy shorts and white t-shirt hung loosely on my frame—a stark contrast to the designer workout gear some of the other girls wore.

"Ready?" Jasmine asked, appearing beside me.

I nodded, adjusting my ponytail before following her into Portland Public High's gymnasium. The polished wooden floor gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the scent of sweat and cleaning chemicals mingling in the air.

Coach Miller divided us into two groups, sending my group to the bleachers first. I sat quietly, watching the first group play while mentally mapping each player's strengths and weaknesses. Old habits die hard.

"Group two, you're up!" Coach called eventually.

As I took my position near the net, I noticed Bella on the opposite side, flanked by the triplets. Samuel's intense gaze followed my every move, while Edward smirked lazily. Lucius, the gentlest of the three, at least had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed by his brother's behavior.

Bella caught my eye and smiled wickedly, tossing the volleyball between her hands with deliberate slowness. The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.

The whistle blew, and the game began. Bella immediately targeted me, spiking the ball with inhuman force—definitely channeling her werewolf strength. But years of training hadn't been for nothing. I planted my feet and returned each strike, my mixed bloodline giving me reflexes that matched her pure werewolf abilities.

"Holy shit, Katherine!" one of my teammate gasped after I dove to save a particularly vicious spike. "Where did you learn to play like that?"

I shrugged, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Just natural talent, I guess."

With each successful return, Bella's expression darkened. I made sure to meet her gaze after every point, letting her know I wasn't intimidated. If she wanted a fight, she'd get one.

When Coach finally blew the whistle to end the game, I turned to high-five my teammates. That's when I heard someone shout, "Look out!"

I spun around to see a volleyball hurtling toward my head. Without thinking, I ducked, the ball missing me by inches. Only Bella stood by the net, her expression of disappointment confirming my suspicions.

Something snapped inside me. I felt heat rising beneath my skin, my fire abilities stirring dangerously close to the surface.

"You really want to start something with me, bitch?" I snarled, stalking toward her. The rational part of my brain screamed warnings about my mission, my cover, my control—but the primal part, the part that had endured years of abuse and isolation, was done being pushed around.

Jasmine appeared in front of me, blocking my path. "Trust me, she's not worth it," she whispered urgently. "She's Beta Noah's daughter. She gets away with everything at this school. You'll be the one in trouble."

The fire in my veins cooled slightly as logic returned. I couldn't afford to blow my cover, not for something as petty as high school drama. With a sharp nod, I let Jasmine lead me away, Bella's smug laughter echoing behind us.

In the locker room, I watched Bella strut to the shower area, completely ignoring everyone else. My gaze fell on the cleaning cart just outside the door, and an idea formed.

"What are you doing?" Jasmine whispered as I grabbed a bottle of bleach and moved toward the showers.

I held a finger to my lips, motioning for her to keep quiet. With swift movements honed through years of training, I uncapped Bella's expensive shampoo, poured in a generous amount of bleach, and replaced it exactly as I'd found it.

"Let's go," I whispered, returning the bleach and grabbing my bag. We slipped out quietly, innocence painted across our faces.

Sometimes revenge doesn't require supernatural abilities—just a little human ingenuity.

Jasmine and I had barely reached the front steps of Portland Public High when a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the hallways behind us. Bella's unmistakable voice.

Jasmine doubled over laughing. "Oh my god, I never would have thought of that in a million years. Her hair is completely destroyed."

"You think the other girls will snitch?" I asked, scanning our surroundings out of habit.

"No way. They're not her friends—they fear her. They'll just say they didn't see anything."

I glanced at my watch. "I should head home."

"See you tomorrow."

I smiled as I crossed the parking lot toward the forest preserve trail that would eventually lead to Portland's East Side. The path curved through dense pines, the air rich with the scent of earth and evergreens. This stretch of wilderness—a buffer between the affluent northern neighborhoods and the neglected eastern district—had quickly become my sanctuary.

A wolf's howl broke the silence, faint but unmistakable. I knew instantly it wasn't a natural wolf—the pitch and cadence revealed a werewolf, likely from the Portland Northern Pack patrolling their territory. I pulled my camera from my bag, but the wolf never showed itself, content to simply let me know I was being watched.

By the time I reached our house in Portland's East Side, shadows had lengthened across the cracked sidewalks. I quietly opened the front door, relieved to hear David's snores from the living room couch. With any luck, I could avoid his roaming eyes and hands altogether.

I crept upstairs to my room, locked the door, and emptied my backpack. Homework first—trigonometry, English literature, chemistry—anything to focus my mind away from my so-called home life.

When I'd finished, I changed into a gray sweatshirt, track pants, socks, and sneakers. Time for training.

I jogged to the small wooded area beside our house, then found my way to the main street of Portland's East Side. It was a quiet, isolated area—few neighbors, fewer visitors. Nobody came to this rundown community by choice. I couldn't blame them; our house should have been condemned years ago, and several abandoned structures nearby were already fenced off for demolition.

I ran through the East Side, skirting downtown, until I reached the abandoned warehouse district on the city's edge. Hidden among the derelict buildings was a military-style obstacle course I'd discovered after moving to Portland—likely one of the "Peace Treaty" organization's secret training facilities.

I'd never seen anyone using it, so I'd claimed it as my personal gym. It was the perfect place to release aggression and practice my abilities, especially after today's confrontation with Bella.

I ran the course three times, using minimal enhancements to maintain my endurance, until the sky darkened enough to warn me it was time to head back.

When I finally reached the house, Mary's car sat in the crumbling driveway. I was glad she was home—it meant David would be less likely to bother me—but I still dreaded going inside. Mary's hostility was as reliable as the tides.

Whether I entered through the front or back door, they'd see me heading upstairs since the only staircase was just outside the kitchen where they were arguing.

After waiting a while longer, I finally stood and approached the house, pushing open the creaking front door. Mary and David were too engrossed in their argument to notice me. I quickly grabbed my shower caddy and took a lightning-fast shower.

Afterward, I returned to my room, carefully locking the door—my nightly ritual for safety. When I turned around, I gasped.

Someone was sitting in my room, and it wasn't David. It was Caspian—ostensibly a regular Portland High student, but actually an agent sent to monitor me. The only person who knew my true werewolf identity.