The rain came first.
It wasn't a gentle drizzle or a whisper on the wind. It slammed into the windshield of Nicole's mom's aging station wagon like a warning — sharp, cold, and relentless. The wipers squeaked against the glass in frantic strokes, barely keeping up as they twisted around the final bend into Ravenshade.
Nicole Jackson leaned her forehead against the window, watching pine trees blur into shadows. The sky was bruised gray, thick with storm clouds. A perfect welcome to her new beginning.
"Almost there," her mom said, forcing a bright tone. She hadn't spoken much during the trip. Neither had Nicole. What was there to say when everything they'd left behind still echoed in the silence?
Nicole didn't respond. She just gripped the frayed strap of her backpack and kept her eyes fixed on the forest that swallowed the road. Something about the trees felt too still. Too alive. Like they were watching.
Ravenshade. Even the name felt like something out of a gothic novel. The kind of place where secrets slept beneath floorboards and monsters lived in the woods.
Their new house stood at the end of a gravel drive, set apart from the others. It was old and gray, its porch sagging, the roof streaked with moss. But it was theirs, bought cheap after Nicole's dad walked out and her mom needed a fresh start just as badly as she did.
"You okay?" her mom asked gently as they pulled in.
Nicole nodded, even though she wasn't. Not really.
The inside of the house smelled like dust and old wood, but it was warm. Boxes were already stacked in the living room, and a cracked photo frame of her parents before the divorce sat forgotten on the windowsill.
Nicole dragged her suitcase upstairs, claiming the bedroom at the back of the house — the one with the wide window that looked out into the forest.
It was already getting dark.
She opened the window and let the cold air in. The pine scent was stronger here, wild and sharp. And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
Nicole froze. Her skin prickled.
Then it was quiet again. But something about the sound. It was low, guttural, raw and wrapped around her spine like a whisper meant just for her.
Later that night, Nicole couldn't sleep.
She tossed under her blanket, her room unfamiliar, the ceiling too high. She kept thinking about that howl.
So she got up, threw on a hoodie over her tank top, and slipped out the back door.
She wasn't sure why. Maybe just to prove to herself there was nothing to be afraid of.
The woods were a ten-minute walk through a clearing. The moon was swollen and pale hung high, painting the trees in silver. The deeper she went, the quieter it got. No wind. No birds. Just the rhythm of her own steps on wet earth.
She should've turned back. But she didn't.
Then she saw him.
A boy, no, a man standing barefoot near the edge of a stream, shirtless, skin kissed by moonlight. He didn't move when she approached, didn't speak. Just stared.
His eyes were darker than night. Like a storm trapped in a body.
Nicole opened her mouth to say something, but her voice caught. Her heart was pounding — not in fear, but in some strange, magnetic pull she couldn't explain.
He stepped forward.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
His voice was low and rough, like gravel dragged across velvet. Nicole took a step back, but he didn't come closer. He just looked at her like he already knew who she was.
"I was just walking," she said, trying to sound steady.
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something she couldn't hear. Then he blinked slowly, almost pained.
"You have no idea what you are," he said.
Nicole felt cold all over. "What?"
But before he could answer, a rustle snapped through the trees.
He turned sharply, nostrils flaring. Then he looked back at her with a mix of anger and something else, maybe panic?
"Run."
"What?"
"Run, now!"
Nicole didn't wait to question it. She turned and bolted, lungs burning as branches scratched at her arms. Behind her, the sound of growling tore through the night not one, but several. Too low, too close.
She didn't stop until she reached the clearing.
When she looked back, the woods were silent again.
And he was gone.
Nicole didn't remember running back to the house.
She only remembered the heat of her breath in the cold night air, the sting of tree branches clawing at her skin, and the unshakable feeling that she was being chased. Hunted.
By the time she slammed the back door shut and locked it, her lungs burned and her legs ached. She stood in the kitchen, hunched over, gasping, trying to make sense of it.
What just happened?
That boy. That voice. Those… sounds in the trees.
It had to be a dream. A weird, forest-induced nightmare. Maybe she'd just gotten turned around and imagined it all.
But when she looked down at her hoodie, there were fresh rips along the sleeves. Her palms were scraped raw. And something shimmered faintly on her collarbone in the moonlight. There was a strange, silvery mark that hadn't been there before. Thin like a thread, winding like a vine.
Nicole's pulse stuttered.
The air around her shifted, and the house felt colder somehow. He'd said something before she ran. You have no idea what you are.
She didn't sleep that night.
By morning, the sun broke through the gray clouds, but Nicole barely noticed. She sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the strange mark on her skin. It was still there, glowing faintly, pulsing when she breathed.
She pulled on a long-sleeved top to hide it and tied her curls into a high puff. No way was she going to school looking like she'd run through a nightmare.
"Ready for your first day?" her mom asked from the kitchen, sipping her ever-present coffee.
Nicole forced a smile. "Thrilled."
The walk to Ravenshade High wasn't long, but it gave her too much time to think. She clutched her bag like a shield, eyes flicking to every shadow, every tree, waiting for that feeling to return.
But the town was alive now with kids walking, shops opening, birds chirping like the woods hadn't swallowed her whole the night before.
At school, the stares started almost immediately.
Ravenshade was small. New blood stuck out.
She found her locker, then her first class, all without incident until third period.
He was there.
Sitting in the back row of English Lit like he hadn't nearly scared her to death less than twelve hours ago.
Amon.
Same dark eyes. Same carved jaw. Same eerie calm.
He looked at her. Straight at her.
Nicole stopped in the doorway, heart thudding against her ribs.
He didn't look surprised. Just resigned.
The teacher motioned her to an empty seat which happened to be two rows in front of him.
The moment she sat, her skin buzzed like electricity. Her mark burned faintly under her sleeve. She didn't dare look back.
By lunch, she was on edge. The cafeteria buzzed with voices and trays clattering, but Nicole couldn't focus. She picked at a sandwich and tried not to glance at the far corner where Amon sat with three other people. There was a boy with sandy hair and sharp features, a tall girl with silver hoops, and a quiet, dark-skinned guy who barely looked up from his tray.
They weren't talking. They were watching her.
"Hey." A girl plopped down across from her, smiling like they were already friends. "You're the new girl, right? Nicole?"
Nicole blinked. "Uh, yeah?"
"I'm Sasha. Just wanted to say hi before the wolves tear you apart." She laughed.
Nicole tried to return the smile, but her stomach dropped. "The wolves?"
Sasha grinned wider. "Relax. It's just what we call them. Amon and his pack. They think they own this school."
Nicole's throat tightened. "Pack?"
Sasha leaned in. "It's just a dumb nickname. They all live out past the ridge. Rich, weird, hot. You know the type."
Nicole didn't answer. Her hands were clammy.
Amon glanced over, eyes locking with hers again.
He didn't look away.
After school, Nicole didn't wait for the bus. She walked, fast and sharp, all the way home, heart thudding with every step. She barely got the door open before she turned and locked it behind her.
This place. This town. Him.
Everything was wrong.
She paced the kitchen. Her mark pulsed again. It wasn't just on her skin only it was under it. Alive. Connected.
And then, as if pulled by a magnet she couldn't fight, she opened the back door.
The woods waited.
She should've stayed inside.
She was barely ten steps into the trees when he appeared.
Amon. Like he'd stepped out of the shadows themselves.
"You came back," he said.
Nicole folded her arms, trying to steady her voice. "You followed me. To school."
"I had to make sure you were okay."
"Okay?" She laughed in a bitter sound. "You told me to run. Then you vanish, and now you're acting like this is normal."
He didn't answer.
She took a breath. "What is happening to me?"
Amon's jaw flexed. "You were marked."
"Marked?" she echoed, fingers grazing the glowing thread on her collarbone.
He stepped closer, eyes heavy with something ancient and pained. "You crossed into sacred territory during a blood moon. And you were seen. By my wolf."
Nicole shook her head. "Your what?"
"I'm not just human," he said softly. "Neither are you. Not anymore."
Nicole took a step back.
"You're not just human?" she repeated, the words tasting wrong on her tongue. "And now I'm… what? A werewolf too?"
Amon's jaw tightened. "No. Not yet."
"Yet?" she hissed, voice rising.
He didn't flinch.
Nicole's mind spun, trying to grasp something solid, something logical. "This is insane."
"I know."
"You're telling me I walked into the woods on a full moon, and now I'm cursed?"
"No," he said gently, "you're claimed."
That word dropped like ice down her spine. "Claimed? Like I'm property?"
He met her gaze squarely. "No. Not property. Fated."
Nicole's throat closed. "No. No, I don't believe in that. Soulmates and curses and fates—those are bedtime stories. That's not real."
Amon stepped closer, but his movements were slow, careful like he didn't want to spook her. "Neither did I. Until I saw you."
Nicole stared at him. At the hard line of his jaw, the tired storm in his eyes. He wasn't lying. Or if he was, he believed it with everything in him.
"I don't want to be part of this," she whispered. "I just wanted to start over. A new life. Not—" she motioned vaguely, "—whatever this is."
"I didn't choose this either," he said. "But it's real. The mark you wear is proof. My wolf knew it before I did."
Nicole swallowed the lump in her throat. "You keep saying 'your wolf' like it's separate from you."
"It is," he said, his voice lower now. "When we shift, we become something else. Something older. Wilder."
She stared at him. "So shift."
Amon blinked.
"If you're telling the truth, prove it. Show me."
He hesitated, jaw clenching. "It's dangerous."
"Why? Because I might run again?"
"No," he said softly, "because I might not be able to stop myself."
Nicole's breath caught.
They stood in silence, the wind whispering through the trees around them. Then Amon turned, stepping deeper into the shadows.
"I'll show you," he said without looking back. "But only once."
He led her to a hollow deeper in the woods, where the moonlight slanted down through ancient trees like silver blades. Nicole stood on the edge of a wide, mossy clearing, heart thundering.
Amon pulled off his shirt, folding it with deliberate care before placing it on a rock.
"Turn around," he said.
Nicole arched a brow. "Seriously?"
"You don't want to see the shift."
"I kind of do."
Amon let out a low laugh. "You're stubborn."
"You don't know the half of it."
But still, she turned.
She heard it first . The bones stretching, snapping, reforming. Flesh shifting. Breath becoming growls.
The air seemed to vibrate.
Then it was quiet.
When Nicole turned back, her breath hitched.
A massive, midnight-black wolf stood in Amon's place. Eyes the same haunting gold. His fur rippled with power, and steam rose off his body in the cool air.
Her instincts screamed danger.
But she didn't run.
He stepped forward, slow, low to the ground. His movements were fluid, controlled. Measured.
She took one small step forward too.
"Amon?" she whispered.
The wolf stopped and met her eyes.
Somehow, she knew it was still him.
Nicole knelt carefully, heart racing, and extended her hand. He came closer, inch by inch, until his warm breath hit her palm.
His nose touched her fingers a little bit, barely.
And that's when she saw it.
Not just the wolf. Not just the wild. But something broken beneath it all. A deep sorrow. A soul that had waited far too long for something it never believed it would find.
Her.
She pulled back gently. "Okay," she whispered. "I believe you now."
The wolf turned away, padding into the shadows.
Seconds later, the air shifted again. She heard it again the bones, the cracking, the reshaping.
When Amon stepped back out, shirt in hand, his eyes were darker. Sadder.
"You shouldn't be part of this world," he said.
Nicole folded her arms. "Too late."
As they walked back to the edge of the forest, the silence between them was loaded with questions she wasn't ready to ask. Amon stopped just before the trees thinned, and the distant lights of her house came into view.
"You need to stay away from me," he said.
She turned to him, annoyed. "Seriously?"
"You don't know what you're stepping into."
"Then explain it. Don't run. Don't disappear. Just—tell me."
He stared at her for a long moment. "There's a law. Among wolves. A mark like yours means you're claimed. But not all packs respect that."
Nicole frowned. "What do you mean?"
"There are others. Ones who will want to use you. Hurt you. To get to me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not just a wolf." His voice dropped, and she felt the power in it, like thunder rolling just beneath the surface. "I'm the heir. The Alpha's son. And the last one who should've ever found a mate."
Nicole's heart skipped. "Why not?"
"Because claiming you means breaking every rule that's kept this forest from burning."
Nicole stood frozen, her breath caught somewhere between disbelief and dread.
"You're the Alpha's son?" she asked, the words barely above a whisper.
Amon nodded once. "And if the others find out what I did, that I marked you they'll come for you. Some already will. It's only a matter of time."
Nicole's pulse hammered in her ears. "But I didn't ask for this."
"I know," he said, voice tight. "Neither did I."
She took a shaky breath, hugging her arms around herself. "So what happens now? Do I just go back to school and pretend I'm not some walking target with a glowing neck tattoo?"
"It's not a tattoo," Amon said quietly. "It's a tether. Between you and me. It'll fade in time if I let it."
Nicole's eyes snapped up to his. "What do you mean, if?"
Amon looked away, as if ashamed. "The bond isn't just physical. It's instinctual. Emotional. If I break it now… it could hurt you."
"Hurt me how?"
"Headaches. Fevers. Nightmares. Maybe worse." His jaw clenched. "But staying bonded to me? That puts a target on your back. On your mom's. On everything you care about."
Nicole stared at him, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. "So either I get hunted… or I get broken."
Amon looked like he wanted to punch the nearest tree. "I'm trying to protect you."
"Well maybe don't decide everything for me," she snapped, stepping forward. "You think I haven't lost enough already? My dad bailed. My mom's barely hanging on. I had to leave my whole life behind, and now I'm here and the first thing I find is a guy who turns into a freaking wolf and tells me my destiny was decided under a blood moon?"
Amon flinched. Just slightly.
"Don't stand there and act like I'm some fragile human girl who needs you to make choices for her," she added, voice trembling. "I didn't ask for this, but I'm not running either."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Amon nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'll stop deciding for you. But that means if you stay, you're in. No turning back. No pretending this isn't real."
Nicole didn't hesitate. "I'm already in."
The ghost of a smile flickered across his lips but it was brief and sad. "Then you'll need to learn fast. Because this town? It's not safe anymore. Especially not for someone marked like you."
They parted at the edge of the forest. Nicole slipped through her back door quietly, wiping the dirt from her jeans before her mom could see. Her hands still shook as she got ready for bed. But beneath the fear, something else buzzed inside her.
Not just adrenaline. Something deeper.
A bond.
She pulled up her shirt collar and stared at the faint silvery glow on her skin.
It pulsed once. Like a heartbeat.
In a quiet corner of the woods, Amon crouched on a mossy ridge, shirtless and barefoot, his body still humming with the effort of holding back his shift.
Behind him, the wind stirred the branches. Another presence emerged, the same tall girl from school, silver hoops glinting in the moonlight.
"You shouldn't have marked her," she said.
"I didn't plan to," Amon replied.
"But you did." She stepped closer, crossing her arms. "You know what this means."
"I know exactly what it means."
She gave him a long look. "They felt it, you know. Across the valley. The others. It won't take long before Marco's scouts catch her scent."
Amon's gaze darkened. "Let them try."
The girl smirked. "Still pretending you're invincible?"
"No," he said. "Just tired of pretending I don't care."
She paused. "You really think she's strong enough to survive what's coming?"
He didn't answer.
Because he wasn't sure.
Back in her bedroom, Nicole tossed restlessly in bed. Her dreams were wild, vivid, and hot with shadows and silver light. In one, a wolf stood in the middle of the road, blood in its teeth. In another, Amon touched her cheek, his hand warm, his voice a whisper.
I see you.
She woke up gasping.
And that was when she saw it.
Scrawled across her window from the outside written in the condensation were four words:
You were not chosen.