Chapter 1
Ellie's POV
"You should have seen her face, Ellie. She was literally cornered by those football jerks." Lucas leaned forward across our coffee shop table, his eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity he always got when he was excited about something. "I mean, three drunk seniors against one girl? I couldn't just walk away."
I stirred my chai latte slowly, watching the cinnamon swirl into patterns. "So you went full hero mode on them?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Lucas had always been the knight-in-shining-armor type, even when we were kids.
"They scattered like cockroaches," he grinned, running a hand through his dark hair. "Samantha was so grateful. You should have seen how she looked at me, like..."
"Like you were her savior?" I finished for him, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Lucas, you know we shouldn't get too involved with humans. Especially not like that."
His smile faded slightly. "Come on, Ellie, I just couldn't stand seeing those jerks harassing someone vulnerable. Don't make it weird."
"I'm not making it weird. I'm being cautious." I lowered my voice. "The full moon is in three weeks. We can't afford complications."
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Relax. I was just helping someone out. It's not like I'm planning to date her or anything."
Right. Because that never happens when a guy rescues a damsel in distress.
I've known Lucas Miller since we were both in diapers. Our families go way back—several centuries, actually. We're among the few remaining werewolf bloodlines in America, descendants of European packs who fled to the New World during the great werewolf purges of the 1500s. After centuries of being hunted, we've learned to hide in plain sight.
Until we turn fifteen, we're basically indistinguishable from normal humans. But after our fifteenth birthday, the werewolf genes fully activate, and we start transforming during each full moon. That's why high school is especially tricky for us—trying to maintain a normal teenage life while managing monthly transformations requires constant vigilance.
My family, the Greens, and Lucas's family, the Millers, have always been close. There's this unspoken expectation that Lucas and I would eventually end up together—either as true mates if we were lucky enough to recognize that bond, or at least as chosen mates to keep our bloodlines pure.
"Earth to Ellie?" Lucas waved his hand in front of my face. "You zoned out again. Thinking about finals?"
I blinked. "Yeah, just worried about keeping my GPA up for college applications." A convenient lie.
The truth was I couldn't stop thinking about the first time we saw Samantha Grey. It was about a month ago, her first day at Mapleton High School. She walked into our AP Economics class wearing clothes that were visibly worn but somehow perfectly fitted— jeans with frayed hems, a thin sweater with a small hole near the collar. There was something calculated about her poverty, a deliberate display of hardship that made me instantly wary.
Most economically disadvantaged students avoid looking poor. Their clothes might be out of style or ill-fitting—too big or too small—but rarely deliberately worn out. Samantha's outfit was perfectly worn, like costume design for a character labeled "poor but proud."
When she walked in, the only empty seat was next to Lucas. I remember how he frowned when she sat down, clearly annoyed at having his space invaded. That was a month ago. Before last night's "rescue mission."
The next day, I spotted them in the hallway between classes. Lucas was carrying Samantha's books, laughing at something she said. When he saw me, he waved but didn't stop to talk—a first in our years of friendship.
"He's walking her to class now," explained Emma Brown, my best friend since freshman year of high school, appearing beside me. "Like, every class. Since yesterday."
"I'm sure he's just being nice," I said, more to convince myself than Emma. "Probably worried those guys might bother her again."
Emma gave me a skeptical look but didn't push it. "If you say so. Wanna grab lunch at the cafeteria later?"
I nodded, my eyes still following Lucas and Samantha down the hallway. Despite my uneasiness, I trusted the bond Lucas and I shared. We grew up together, transformed under the same moons, shared secrets no human could understand. No human girl could compete with that kind of connection.
So I continued our routine.
But over the next three weeks, Lucas and Samantha's relationship progressed at lightning speed. Every time I noticed Lucas missing from class, Samantha would be absent too. They'd reappear together in the hallway between periods, her hand always finding some way to touch his arm or shoulder. It was happening so fast it made my head spin, but I tried to focus on what mattered most—keeping our secret safe.
With the annual Mapleton vs. Westridge rivalry basketball game falling on the night of a full moon—not an official championship, but the biggest game of our season that packed the stands and fueled school spirit for weeks—I'd prepared the special herbal mixture we call "moon tea" - disguised in a sports drink bottle. It helps control the transformation, dulling our wolf instincts just enough to get through high-pressure situations.
As Mapleton High's head cheerleader, I'd be on the sidelines, but Lucas would be center court as our star forward, with all eyes on him. The last thing we needed was for him to start growing fur mid-game.
I was waiting by the gym entrance before the pre-game warmup, clutching two identical sports drink bottles—one actually contained the special herbal mixture, the other was regular Gatorade for show—when Emma nudged me.
"Heads up. Your favorite person is coming," she whispered.
Samantha was walking toward us, wearing what looked suspiciously like Lucas's varsity jacket. When she spotted me, her face lit up with an artificial smile.
"Ellie! Are you waiting for Lucas too?" she asked, sidling up next to me.
"Just dropping something off for him," I replied, keeping my tone neutral while gripping the bottle tighter.
"Oh, how thoughtful!" As she moved closer, her elbow "accidentally" knocked into my arm. The bottle containing the special herbal mixture tumbled from my hand, hitting the floor with a splash as the cap came loose.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Samantha gasped, not sounding sorry at all.
Emma stepped forward. "Maybe watch where you're going? You don't need to crowd everyone's personal space."
"I said I was sorry," Samantha sniffled, eyes instantly welling with tears.
I quickly retrieved the bottle, relieved to see most of the liquid was still inside. "It's fine, really—"
"What's going on here?" Lucas's voice cut through the tension as he approached from the locker room, already in his game uniform.
"Nothing," I started to say, but Samantha spoke over me.
"I was just trying to wish you good luck, and they're being so mean to me," she said, voice trembling, a single tear sliding perfectly down her cheek.
Lucas's face darkened instantly. "Seriously? You two need to back off. She's new here and trying to fit in."
