"May I present former Sergeant First Class Isaac Ward of the United States Army Special Forces," Carter answered without hesitation. Her tone was steady, confident, as though she had rehearsed these words for years.
I froze. For a moment, I wasn't sure I had heard her right. Former Special Forces. My past, laid bare like a brand across my skin. Then I felt Carter's tug on my arm, steadying, commanding me to hold my ground.
"And do you accept your reputation by nominating him as a potential?" Beta Li asked, her expression unreadable.
"I do, Beta Li," Carter replied, her voice ringing out like a vow.
I braced myself. The last time I had stood in a room like this, the decision had stretched into an eternity, ending in screams and tears. Zoe Tucker's removal was still too fresh in everyone's mind. The werewolves watched me now with quiet anticipation, hungry for another spectacle. I couldn't stop myself from sneaking a glance. Past Carter's shoulder, my eyes found him again, the alpha in the center seat. He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. But the sheer weight of his presence held me pinned harder than Beta Li's questioning. His gaze was unreadable, steady, like he already knew what my fate would be.
"Accepted," Beta Li said at last, her tone flat, almost bored, as if the matter had already been decided long before I stepped forward.
The word hit me like a blow. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, forcing my chin higher, my body snapping into rigid attention. My muscles ached from the effort of standing so still, but I welcomed the ache. It made me feel as though I belonged, as though this acceptance meant more than simple words.
The room, however, did not care. Conversations resumed in low murmurs, cell phones reappeared in hands, the idle hum of gossip rolling back through the air as if my acceptance had been nothing more than a passing note in the night. And yet, I still felt the burn of his eyes on me, the man I could only assume was Alpha Ryan Weiss. The realization struck me like a spark, and I froze in place, startled to find his gaze locked directly on mine. Those piercing blue eyes held me there, sharp and unflinching, as if he had been waiting for me to notice him. Then, slowly, his expression shifted, the severity melting away. His lips curved into an easy grin, the kind that looked practiced but still managed to disarm me all the same.
And now, we were nineteen. Shortly after my acceptance into the Trials, the rest of the surviving potentials and I had been gathered around the long banquet table. Five elaborate courses had come and gone, each dish a work of art that I could barely stomach more than a few bites of. Every swallow sat like stone in my gut, my nerves twisting each morsel into something heavy and bitter.
The dining hall was vast and circular, its design meant to inspire awe. Despite being more than a century old, it gleamed as if unveiled just yesterday. Cream-colored walls, spotless and pristine, glowed beneath the soft light, their brightness sharpened by the surrounding dark wood paneling. The hand-scraped floors beneath us were polished to perfection, every grain glinting faintly, as though mocking our unease. At the very center of the room stretched the massive table, and at its far end, the twentieth seat. It remained empty, a silent, chilling reminder that at any moment, one of us could vanish, dismissed from the Trials without warning. I wasn't the only one who noticed it. More than once, I caught others flicking their eyes toward that vacant place, their glances as quick as they were fearful. We might have shared a fragile peace tonight, sitting together as if we were comrades, but we weren't friends. We were enemies, all of us. At the end of the Trials, only two would be chosen, and the rest, discarded.
When the final plate was cleared away, the servants ushered us into an adjoining chamber, a room prepared for what looked like an after-dinner gathering. None of us knew what to expect. That much, at least, bound us together.
The original flooring looked like it had been laid down decades ago, but it still gleamed beneath the golden light of the chandeliers.
Gold fixtures lined the walls, catching the glow and scattering it across the room like tiny sparks. I might have noticed the beauty of it more if I hadn't been slightly off my game, unsettled by the strangeness of the evening.
The flame-haired redhead appeared at my side without a sound, as though she'd slipped out of the shadows. I hadn't even noticed her approach until she was already there, holding out two slender glasses of champagne.
"Here, take this," she said, pressing one into my hand. Her tone carried just enough cheer to mask the warning in her eyes. "And at least pretend like you're enjoying yourself. Neutral face. Not your usual bitchy one." I accepted the glass, my fingers brushing against the cool stem. "Thanks."
"Don't worry," she added with a grin. "I'm not asking for a smile or anything crazy. Baby steps, you know?"
I leaned casually against the curved wall, taking a careful sip as the room around us buzzed with restless energy. The shifters had spread out, blending into the clusters of potentials who were eager to impress the judges watching from the shadows. There were no instructions, no rules, just drinks flowing freely and conversations flaring like sparks.
Normally, I could handle physical challenges, any survival drill in the wild, any endurance test, I was prepared for. But this? Mingling, schmoozing, pretending I belonged in a cocktail-hour circus? That was another kind of trial altogether. Deals were being struck in hushed voices, secrets traded like currency, and I doubted my ability to spot the backstabbers before they moved in. Still, I tried to play along, even if the effort felt awkward. Tonight carried consequences, and my bad habit was always the same: saying what was on my mind when silence would have been smarter.
I turned slightly at the sound of a familiar voice. "Hey, stranger." My gaze caught Carter's from across the room, her eyes locked on me with an intensity that made me wonder just how long she'd been watching.
She flashed me that brilliant smile of hers, the kind that could light up a whole damn room. If I squinted, I could even make out the faint glint of a pointed fang where her canine used to be a reminder of just how much she had changed since the last time I saw her.
Carter and I went back years. Best friends when we served together, though the word friends never felt like enough. She was my anchor, my family, the one person I trusted with my life. I knew without a shred of doubt that she'd throw herself in front of a bullet for me, and she knew I'd do the same. That kind of bond doesn't just happen, it's forged in the fire of sleepless nights, impossible missions, and the kind of danger that makes ordinary people crumble. And then, one day, she was gone. Her contract came up, and instead of renewing, she left the service and disappeared like smoke on the wind. No warning. No explanation. No word for two years. I told myself I understood,soldiers vanish all the time when the fight burns them out but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel like I'd lost the only family I had left.
When she finally returned, it wasn't the Carter I remembered. She had been turned into a werewolf, something I'd only heard about in passing, whispered rumors traded in mess halls and on the battlefield. And now, unbelievably, she wanted me to follow her into that same world.
At first, I thought she'd lost her damn mind. I'd never even met a shifter before, and the idea of becoming one myself was almost laughable. But once the seed was planted, I couldn't shake it. The thought wormed its way into my head, filling the empty spaces during the day and slipping into my dreams at night. Did I belong here? Could I? The unit had been my family, my compass. When I left the Army, that sense of belonging vanished.
Missions lost their shine, and the restless call of the unknown began tugging at me again. So when Carter returned, all fire and fangs, offering me a new path I followed.
Now, standing in this room full of strangers who looked like they'd known each other forever, I wondered if I'd made a mistake. The other potentials laughed easily, like this gathering was just a party and not the kickoff to three brutal lunar cycles of hell. They fit in so seamlessly with the sponsors and the pack members, while I stood there feeling like the odd one out.