Chapter 6 – After the Howl
The party ended in blood and silence.
Police sirens wailed in the distance, their red-and-blue glow painting the suburban street. Teenagers huddled in small groups, some crying, some whispering, others clutching their phones like lifelines.
The lawn, once filled with laughter and cheap pop music, was a massacre site. Blood streaked the grass, corpses of the feral wolves were already fading into ash and mist. Only claw marks on the house and shattered windows remained as evidence.
And yet, despite everything, half the crowd still treated it like content.
"I got it all on live," muttered Trevor, pale but grinning, his phone still in hand. "Bro, that wolf? Trending by morning."
"You're insane," someone hissed. "We almost died!"
Trevor shrugged. "And got views."
Ayla didn't hear them. Her world had shrunk to one shadow disappearing into the night.
Lucien.
He hadn't waited for questions, hadn't explained. As soon as she'd calmed him down, he bolted—disappearing into the trees, his dark form swallowed by the night.
Leaving her with Darren, still sobbing in the grass.
"You—you saw that, right? He tried to kill me!" Darren wheezed, clutching his chest like he'd been stabbed. "We have to call animal control. No—no, the FBI! He's a monster!"
Ayla's glare was ice. "Shut. Up."
Darren flinched.
"You don't get it," she hissed, leaning closer. "He wasn't going to kill me. He saved me. He saved all of us. And you—" her voice curled into venom—"you hid behind me."
Darren's jaw worked uselessly, no defense coming. For the first time in his life, the golden boy of Eastbridge High had no words.
Ayla straightened, the weight of her silver dress pulling at her shoulders. The sirens were closer now.
She knew what Lucien would do. Hide. Vanish. Pretend nothing happened.
But she couldn't.
Because she had seen his eyes.
And she couldn't let him go.
Monday – Eastbridge High
The gossip spread faster than the cops' tape had gone up.
By first period, half the school had a theory.
"Did you hear? Ayla threw a party and summoned demons."
"No, it was wolves. Like, rabid wolves. They came out of the woods."
"My cousin's girlfriend's brother said it was a cult. Goat masks. Blood sacrifices. Totally real."
"Nah, it was just a dog fight gone wrong."
"Oh my god, you're such an idiot. Dogs don't rip through walls!"
By lunchtime, a blurry video clip hit TikTok. It showed maybe two seconds of Lucien mid-shift—fur bristling, eyes glowing red before the angle cut off. The comments section was chaos.
"Nice CGI lmao"
"Bro is literally Teen Wolf"
"Nah that's an SCP, lock him up"
"Anyone else think he's hot???"
Ayla sat at her usual table, untouched lunch in front of her. Normally, she would've been laughing with friends, planning her next event, soaking up the attention.
Today, she barely heard them.
Because across the cafeteria, sitting alone at the corner table with his hood pulled low… was Lucien.
He looked normal. Too normal. Brown eyes instead of burning red. No claws, no fangs, no shadow of the wolf she'd seen. Just a quiet boy picking at cold fries, ignoring the stares.
But Ayla knew better.
She knew what he was.
And she knew—deep down—that he was watching her too.
"Girl, are you even listening?" her friend Natalie said, snapping a finger in front of her face. "You've been staring at emo-boy all day."
Ayla blinked, flustered. "I—I wasn't staring."
"Yes you were," Natalie sang. "Oh my god. Don't tell me you have a crush on him now? After what happened?"
Her other friend Mia leaned in. "What even did happen, Ayla? Everyone's saying you were like… right there when it went down."
Ayla hesitated. Words crowded her throat, but none felt safe. She couldn't say the truth. They wouldn't believe her. Or worse—they would.
So she lied. "It was dark. I didn't see much."
Natalie pouted. "Boo. Lame answer."
But Ayla's gaze drifted back across the cafeteria.
Lucien was gone.
That Night
The police called it "a wild animal attack." Convenient. Neat. Wrapped in a bow.
But Ayla couldn't sleep. Not when the image of Lucien's wolf form kept replaying in her mind—the size of him, the violence, the way he'd almost torn Darren apart…
And the way he had stopped when she spoke.
Something connected them. She could feel it.
So when a stone clinked softly against her window at midnight, she wasn't even surprised.
Her heart stuttered as she pulled the curtain aside.
Lucien stood below in the dark, hood up, eyes shadowed.
"Ayla," he whispered.
Chapter 7 – Midnight Confessions
Ayla's window creaked as she pushed it open, her pulse racing.
Down below, Lucien stood motionless in the shadows. Hood pulled low, hands in his pockets. To anyone else, he might've looked like just another moody boy sneaking out at night.
But Ayla knew better.
He wasn't a boy.
Not entirely.
"Are you insane?" she whispered harshly. "What are you doing here? The cops are still circling the neighborhood!"
Lucien's voice was low, steady, almost calm. "I had to see you."
Her heart jumped. "Why?"
"Because you saw," he said simply. His eyes flickered upward, catching the light. Brown, for now. But Ayla remembered when they weren't.
She hesitated. Her rational brain screamed: close the window, lock it, never look back. But her hand stayed frozen on the sill.
"Come up," she whispered before she could stop herself.
Lucien moved like shadow. One moment he was standing in the yard; the next, he was vaulting silently up the side of the house. His boots landed on the balcony with barely a sound.
Ayla stumbled back. "Okay—how the hell did you—"
"Gravity doesn't like me much," he muttered, stepping into her room.
She gaped at him. "That's not even an answer."
For the first time, the corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile.
But it vanished just as quickly. His gaze swept across her room—fairy lights strung along the walls, designer shoes scattered across the floor, posters of bands and half-dressed K-pop idols plastered over her mirror.
"You're not supposed to talk to me," he said at last.
Ayla crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, you're not supposed to turn into a giant murder-wolf at my party, but here we are."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "I didn't mean for you to see that."
"You think I care?" she shot back. "You saved me, Lucien. You saved all of us. And then you just… ran. Like it was nothing."
His eyes darkened. "It wasn't nothing."
The air between them tightened.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence stretched, heavy, only broken by the faint hum of her fairy lights.
Then Ayla stepped closer, her voice softer. "What are you?"
Lucien didn't flinch. He'd been waiting for that question.
"I don't have a name for it," he admitted. "My blood is… mixed. Werewolf. Vampire. Things darker than both." He looked away, shoulders tense. "My kind hunts. They kill. They feed. I was supposed to be the same."
"But you're not," she said quickly.
His eyes snapped back to hers. "No. I'm worse."
The honesty in his tone sent a chill through her. But Ayla didn't back away. Instead, she reached out—hesitant, trembling—and touched his hand.
To her surprise, he didn't pull back.
"You're not worse," she whispered. "You stopped. For me."
Lucien's throat worked, his voice low. "That's the problem. I don't know why."
The moment burned between them. The quiet boy with a deadly name, the girl too stubborn to be afraid.
And then, just as Lucien leaned closer, just as the distance between them thinned to breath—
The scream split the night.
Not human. Not wolf. Something in between.
Lucien froze. His head snapped toward the window, nostrils flaring.
"What was that?" Ayla whispered.
His jaw tightened. "Not good."
From the street below, shadows moved. Three figures in long coats, silver glinting in their hands. Hunters.
And behind them, watching from the trees, something worse.
Eyes. Dozens of them. Burning red.
Lucien's kind had arrived.
Chapter 8 – Wolves at the Door
Ayla's fairy lights flickered.
The scream still echoed in her chest, rattling her bones. Lucien was a shadow by the window, tense, every line of his body coiled like a predator about to strike.
"What—what do we do?" Ayla whispered.
Lucien didn't turn. His voice was flat. "You hide."
"Excuse me? Hide? This is my room—"
He cut her off with a sharp glance, his eyes flashing just for a second. Not red. Not gold. Something in-between. Something that made her mouth snap shut.
"Do. Not. Move," he growled.
Her breath caught. It wasn't a request—it was instinct pulling at her, the wolf inside him commanding her very bones. She hated that it worked.
"You're insane," she muttered, trying to shake it off. "I'm not letting you fight alone."
His lip curled, halfway to a snarl. "You don't have a choice."
The window rattled.
A shadow passed across the glass. Then another.
Whispers outside. Boots crunching on gravel. A metallic click.
Ayla's pulse hammered. She grabbed the nearest thing—her pink hairbrush—and held it like a weapon.
Lucien glanced at her, deadpan. "What are you going to do? Style them to death?"
Her cheeks burned. "Shut up."
He almost smirked—almost—but then the sound came. A scrape. Like claws dragging across brick.
Ayla froze. "That… that wasn't the hunters, was it?"
Lucien's voice dropped, rough and cold. "No."
The balcony door shattered inward before she could scream.
Three men in long coats stepped through the splinters, silver weapons gleaming. One held a crossbow, another a curved blade, the last a pistol with runes carved into the barrel.
"Draven," the leader spat. His voice was gravel. "Thought you could hide here, among the cattle?"
Lucien stepped forward, his hood falling back. His normal brown eyes stared them down, calm, unflinching.
"You're early," he said simply.
The hunter sneered. "And you're cornered."
But before anyone could move—before a shot was fired—the air shifted.
A low growl rolled from the trees outside. Then another. And another.
Dozens of eyes burned in the dark. Crimson, feral, hungry.
The hunters stiffened. "Damn it. Not now."
Lucien's hands curled into fists, his voice edged with iron. "They've found me."
Ayla swallowed hard. "They? As in… wolves?"
His gaze flicked back to her—tender for just a heartbeat. "Not wolves. Worse."
And then the change hit him.
His body trembled, bones cracking, tendons snapping, fur tearing through his skin. Ayla watched in horror and awe as Lucien Draven—quiet, lonely, deadly—was replaced by the black wolf of nightmares.
Twice the size of a normal wolf, muscle rippling, fangs gleaming. His fur shimmered in the light, not just black but shifting, almost swallowing color around it. His red eyes ignited the room.
The hunters raised their weapons. The ferals snarled from the trees.
And Ayla, clutching her useless hairbrush, whispered to herself:
"…I'm so screwed."
Chapter 9 – The Hunter's Shadow
The school was buzzing with rumors. Nobody could explain the screams in the night, the strange lights in the forest, or why three men had mysteriously "disappeared" on the last field trip.
Ayla knew exactly why.
She sat in class, doodling in her notebook, pretending not to notice Lucien staring out the window. He'd been quieter than usual—if that was even possible. His hood was pulled low, his jaw tense, and his fingers tapped against the desk in an uneven rhythm, like a predator's heartbeat.
She leaned over. "You look like you're plotting world domination."
Lucien blinked, as if surfacing from another world. "…What?"
"Your face. Very villain monologue right now."
For the briefest moment, his lips twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"Maybe I am," he said softly.
Ayla shivered. She didn't know if he was joking.
At lunch, the whispers spread.
"Did you hear about the missing teachers?"
"They said wolves did it."
"No, my cousin said it was like… vampires."
"Shut up, you watch too much Netflix."
Vivienne glided through the cafeteria like a queen, Marcus at her side. She locked eyes with Ayla and smirked, whispering something that made Marcus stiffen. Ayla caught the glance. It stung.
Lucien noticed. His hand clenched around his drink until the plastic cracked.
That night, Ayla found herself scrolling through her phone in bed. Wolf attacks. Missing persons. Old legends about "The Twilight Wolf."
And every time she read the descriptions—eyes glowing like moons, black fur swallowing the night—she thought of him.
Her neighbor. Her classmate. The boy who had saved her, and terrified her, all at once.
And for some reason, she smiled.
Chapter 10 – Sparks and Shadows
The teachers announced an excursion. A mountain trip. "Team bonding," they called it. Everyone groaned, except Vivienne and her pack of sycophants, who squealed at the idea of snow selfies.
Ayla wanted to crawl into the floor.
"I'm not going," she muttered to Lucien as they walked out of school.
He arched a brow. "Scared of the cold?"
"No," she snapped. "I'm scared of being trapped on a plane with her." She jabbed a thumb at Vivienne, who was laughing obnoxiously with her group.
Lucien's voice was calm, but there was something sharp underneath. "Then don't let her win."
Ayla frowned. "…Are you giving me pep talks now?"
"Maybe."
"Wow. I never thought I'd live to hear motivational quotes from the Lone Wolf himself."
Lucien didn't reply. But his silence wasn't empty—it was heavy. Watching her. Weighing something he couldn't say.
That evening, Ayla's car broke down near the edge of the forest. Because of course it did.
She cursed under her breath, slamming the hood down. "Stupid, overpriced junk—"
A sound behind her. A low growl.
Her blood froze.
Then he stepped out. Lucien.
"Relax," he said smoothly. "It's me."
"God, don't sneak up on people like that!" she snapped. Her heart was hammering.
His gaze swept over her, serious. "You shouldn't be out here alone."
Something in his tone made her chest tighten.
For a moment, they just stood there, the cold air between them, the forest whispering around them. Then, without a word, Lucien fixed her car. Quick, efficient, silent.
She stared. "...Do you just know how to do everything?"
He closed the hood. "Not everything." His eyes met hers. "Some things I'm still learning."
The way he said it made her cheeks burn.
She looked away quickly, mumbling. "Yeah, well… thanks."
As she drove off, she caught sight of him in the mirror. Still standing there, watching her taillights vanish into the dark.
Chapter 11 – Blood in the Snow
The private jet hummed softly as it carved its way through gray clouds, the snowy mountains rising in the distance. The students were restless, laughing, snapping selfies, fighting over seats. Teachers tried to maintain order, but no one really listened.
Ayla sat pressed against the window, cheek resting on her palm. She wasn't in the mood for selfies. Not when Marcus was sitting only a few rows ahead with her.
Vivienne.
Vivienne laughed like she owned the world, tossing her perfect hair over her shoulder, her hand draped carelessly over Marcus's arm. Every so often, she would glance back at Ayla and smirk.
Ayla gritted her teeth. Pathetic. If she wants to play queen bee, fine. I'm done caring.
At least, that's what she told herself.
Her gaze flickered sideways. Lucien was sitting across the aisle, hood up, headphones in, staring out the opposite window. He looked detached, like he was barely aware of being on the same plane. But every time she caught herself staring too long, he would shift—just slightly—as though he felt her eyes on him.
Hours into the flight, the storm hit. The jet rattled as it entered heavy clouds. Students screamed playfully at every bump, enjoying the turbulence like a roller coaster.
Ayla wasn't fooled. Something about the way the air groaned around the plane made her stomach twist.
She stood to head for the bathroom, but Vivienne and her clique were blocking the narrow aisle.
"Well, look who it is," Vivienne purred. "The washed-up little celebrity. Lost your spotlight yet, Ayla?"
"Not now," Ayla muttered, trying to push past.
But Vivienne stepped closer, lips curling. "Still pretending you're above everyone? Please. You're nothing without Daddy's money and a camera flash."
A few boys chuckled, flanking her like bodyguards. Ayla rolled her eyes. "Congrats, Vivienne. You've officially run out of insults."
The smirk sharpened. "Oh, I've got one more."
And then—too quickly to react—hands shoved her hard.
Her back slammed against the emergency hatch. She gasped.
"W-What the hell are you doing—?!"
The latch clicked. Cold wind screamed into the cabin.
The teachers up front shouted, chaos erupting, but Vivienne's crew was faster. They shoved Ayla again—harder.
And suddenly, the world ripped away.
The scream was torn from her throat as the sky swallowed her.
Air slammed against her body, freezing, deafening. Her stomach lurched as the plane shrank above her. Clouds blurred. The ground rushed closer.
She hit snow. Hard.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs. White exploded around her. She rolled down a slope, hitting ice, rocks, branches, until finally she came to a stop at the bottom of a ridge.
Silence.
Her body screamed in agony. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. The snow beneath her was too cold, stabbing into her skin like knives. Her fingers burned, then went numb.
She tried to stand. Collapsed.
The storm howled around her, filling her ears, biting into her bones. The cold wasn't just painful—it was lethal. She could feel it seeping in, slowing her blood, strangling her heartbeat.
Her lips trembled as she whispered into the snow. "…Help…"
And then she laughed bitterly. Who could hear her here?
The edges of her vision darkened. Her body curled in on itself, trembling violently. So this is it. This is how I die. Frozen. Alone.
But then—footsteps.
Heavy. Certain. Each crunch in the snow growing closer.
She forced her head up. A shadow emerged through the storm. Tall. Broad. Eyes glinting faintly in the pale white haze.
"Lucien…"
He was at her side in an instant, dropping to his knees, pulling her against his chest. She clung weakly to his coat, sobbing.
"They… they threw me… I-I—"
"Shh." His voice was deep, dangerous, trembling with fury. "I know. I saw."
He wrapped her in his coat, shielding her from the wind, his body heat seeping into her. But it wasn't enough.
Her teeth chattered violently. Her skin was ice. "I-it's too c-cold… I c-can't…"
Lucien's jaw clenched. He looked around desperately, snow whipping into his face. There was no shelter. No fire. Nothing.
Her breaths were slowing.
He grabbed her face in both hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. His were wild, glowing faintly in the storm.
"Ayla—listen to me. You won't survive this. Not like this."
Her lips trembled. "I… I'll try—"
"No!" His voice cracked with urgency. "There's only one way. I can save you—but it means changing you. Making you like me."
Her eyes widened. "L-Like you?"
"Yes." His voice was a growl. "Stronger. Faster. You'll never feel the cold again. But once I do this—there's no going back."
Her chest rose and fell in shallow, weak gasps. She thought of Vivienne's cruel smile. Marcus's betrayal. The hollow emptiness of her so-called friends.
And then she thought of Lucien. Dark. Lonely. Dangerous. Yet the only one who had never lied to her.
She nodded once. "Do it."
Lucien's breath shuddered. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Her voice was faint but steady. "I'd rather be like you… than die like this."
The wolf inside him roared.
He pulled her closer, his face burying against her throat. For a heartbeat he hesitated, trembling, as though afraid of breaking her.
Then his fangs sank into her skin.
Ayla gasped—her cry lost in the storm. Fire flooded her veins, burning hotter than the cold ever could. Every nerve screamed. Her heart hammered, then faltered, then surged with inhuman strength.
She convulsed, clutching at his coat, half in agony, half in rapture. The snow around them stained crimson.
Lucien held her through it, his growl low, protective, as if anchoring her to life. "Stay with me, Ayla. Don't let go. Fight it."
Her scream broke into ragged breaths. Her eyes snapped open.
They glowed. Silver fire cutting through the storm.
Lucien pulled back slowly, blood on his lips, his chest heaving.
He looked at her—changed, alive, fierce—and for the first time, he almost smiled.
"Welcome to the shadows," he whispered.
Chapter 12 – Hunger
The storm had eased by the time Ayla opened her eyes again.
At first, she thought she was still dreaming. The world was too sharp. Too alive. The snow wasn't just white—it was crystalline, each flake a tiny shard of silver glass. She could hear it settling, hear the crackle of ice forming on branches a hundred yards away.
And her own heartbeat. No—that wasn't her heartbeat. It was Lucien's.
It thundered in her ears, steady, powerful, like a war drum.
She sat up fast, lungs dragging in air that burned and froze all at once. The scent of pine hit her like a flood. Underneath it—something darker. Iron. Copper.
Blood.
Her gaze flicked to Lucien. He was crouched nearby, watching her like a predator uncertain if his prey had woken tame or wild. His hood was down, his black hair matted with melted snow, his jaw set. His eyes—calm. Human. He'd forced them back to normal, for her sake.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Ayla pressed a hand to her chest. Her pulse was wild, chaotic. She swallowed. "Like… everything's too much. Too loud. Too bright. I can smell…" She trailed off, realizing what she smelled.
Lucien's mouth curved grimly. "Blood."
She flinched. "Y-Yeah."
"That's the hunger." His tone was flat, as if reciting something inevitable. "It'll gnaw at you until you learn to control it. Right now, it's stronger than your will."
She hugged her knees to her chest. "I don't… I don't want to eat people."
Lucien's gaze softened, barely. "Good. That's the first line you draw. Don't cross it."
Silence hung between them, the snow falling gentler now, settling on their shoulders.
Ayla looked at him again, really looked. "You saved me. By making me this."
He turned his head, jaw tightening. "I didn't save you. I made a choice. You'll hate me for it one day."
She shook her head, firm despite the tremor in her body. "No. If you hadn't… I'd be dead."
Something flickered in his expression—pain, maybe, or something he didn't want her to see. He rose smoothly to his feet, offering her a hand.
"Come on. You need to move. The cold won't kill you now, but we can't stay out here."
She hesitated, then took his hand. His grip was strong, steady, pulling her effortlessly up. But the moment her skin touched his, a shiver ran through her. Not from cold. Something else.
Her heartbeat stuttered—and she realized with dawning horror she could hear his blood rushing beneath his skin. The warmth of it. The way it pulsed.
Her throat burned.
Lucien's eyes snapped to hers instantly. He didn't need to ask. He saw it in her face.
"No." His voice was sharp. Commanding. "Not me."
"I—I can't—" She stumbled back, clutching her mouth, horrified. "I don't want to hurt you, but—"
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Fight it. You're not an animal."
Her whole body trembled with hunger. Her new instincts screamed at her to lunge, to sink her teeth into him, to taste the fire that had made her what she was.
And yet—his eyes held her.
Cold, human-gray. Steady. Anchoring.
She swallowed hard, forcing the growl back down her throat. She collapsed to her knees in the snow, shaking.
Lucien crouched in front of her, not touching, but close enough for his voice to cut through her frenzy.
"This is the first night. The hardest. Survive this… and you'll begin to understand."
Her breath came ragged, but slowly, the fire eased. Her jaw ached, her fangs still sharp, but she was in control again. Barely.
She looked up at him, her voice breaking. "What… am I now?"
Lucien's answer was quiet. "Mine."
Her heart stuttered. "Wh-what?"
He stood, brushing snow from his coat. "Not like that." His tone was almost irritated. "You carry my blood now. My curse. That ties you to me. Whether you like it or not."
She stared at him, chest tightening with something she couldn't name. Fear. Anger. Desire. All tangled.
Lucien turned, scanning the treeline, his posture tense. "We need to move. The others will realize you're gone soon. And when they do… they'll come looking. Not to save you. To finish what they started."
Her hands curled into fists. Vivienne. Marcus. The others.
She wasn't the same girl they had thrown out of that plane.
She wasn't prey anymore.
She rose to her feet beside Lucien, her silver-lit eyes burning faintly in the dark.
Chapter 13 – The Wrong Heartbeat
The return to the city felt like waking into another life.
For Ayla, nothing looked the same anymore. The air carried too many scents—coffee, exhaust, perfume, blood. Always blood. The sidewalks buzzed with heartbeats, too loud, too fast, like war drums.
And school? It was hell.
On her first day back after the excursion, she tried to be normal. To sit quietly, smile at her friends, pretend nothing had happened. But when she pushed open the classroom door—
CRACK.
The handle snapped off in her hand.
Every head turned.
Ayla froze, cheeks burning, and slipped inside with the broken handle tucked in her bag. The teacher frowned but didn't say anything. She sat, trying to breathe. Pretend.
That was the problem. Breathing wasn't normal anymore. Every inhale was too much. Perfume, sweat, the faint metallic tang of blood under skin.
"Babe, are you okay?" whispered Maya Torres, leaning across her desk. Her long braids swung as she tilted her head, studying Ayla. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"She looks like she is a ghost," Lena Carter said, folding her arms. Always blunt, always elegant. "You've gone full Edward Scissorhands chic. Pale as hell."
"Or maybe…" Chloe Bennett smirked, lowering her voice mischievously. "Someone had a wild night."
All three of them turned to her with sly grins.
Ayla choked. "What? No! God, it's not like that."
The girls burst out laughing, their voices filling the classroom, drawing annoyed looks from the teacher.
Ayla forced a smile but her chest was tight. Her eyes flicked to Maya's neck, where the faint blue vein pulsed just once. Ayla's throat burned like fire.
She bit her lip hard, digging nails into her palm. Don't. Don't. Don't.
Across the room, Lucien sat near the back. His usual spot. Hood up, eyes lowered, looking like the world's most uninterested student. But when Ayla's control faltered, his head lifted.
Their eyes locked.
His gaze was calm, warning, anchoring her again just like in the snow.
She exhaled, shaky but steadier. Okay. She could do this.
At least until lunch.
Cafeteria Disaster
The cafeteria was chaos—voices shouting, trays clattering, soda hissing. Too much noise. Too many scents. Too many heartbeats.
Ayla sat with her three best friends, trying to keep it together.
"Girl, you're zoning out," Maya said, snapping her fingers in front of Ayla's face. "What's up with you? You didn't even touch your salad."
"Maybe she's on some weird diet," Lena muttered. "Rich people always are. Air and lemon water only."
"Or…" Chloe leaned closer with a grin. "Maybe she's distracted. By a boy."
All three of them gasped dramatically.
Ayla rolled her eyes. "I swear, you guys—"
Then it happened.
A boy tripped near their table. His tray crashed to the floor, bowl shattering. He cursed, grabbing the pieces—only to slice his palm wide open.
Blood.
Warm. Sharp. Flooding the air.
Ayla's vision tunneled.
Her chair scraped back as she half-rose, every nerve screaming mine. Her fangs grazed her lip before she realized.
Then—
A hand closed on her wrist.
Lucien.
"Outside," he said flatly, dragging her up.
"But—"
"Now."
The cafeteria fell silent, students staring as the school's mysterious loner pulled the golden-girl Ayla Reed by the hand out the door.
Her three best friends sat frozen in shock, mouths wide open.
On the Roof
The cold air slapped her back to herself. Ayla stumbled against the wall, clutching it, heart racing.
"I almost—" Her voice cracked. "I almost killed him."
Lucien leaned against the railing, calm as stone. "You didn't. That's what matters."
"I can't control this!" she snapped. "Everyone's just—meat. Walking bloodbags."
His lips twitched at the corner. "Congratulations. You've described humanity perfectly."
A laugh burst from her throat—half hysterical, half real. "God, you're impossible."
Lucien's gaze softened. "And you're alive. That's enough."
Her chest tightened. Because beneath the hunger, beneath the fear, she wanted him. Not just because of the blood singing in his veins. But because he was the only steady thing in this madness.
She stepped closer, eyes locked on his. Too close.
For a moment, the world shrank to just them.
Then the rooftop door slammed open.
"Well, well. If it isn't the school's ice queen and her charity case."
Vivienne.
Perfect hair, perfect sneer, Marcus's arm draped around her shoulders. Behind them, a cluster of hangers-on smirked.
Ayla stiffened. "What do you want?"
Vivienne's smile was sweet venom. "Just making sure you're… okay. After your little fall." Her gaze slid to Lucien. "And I see you've found yourself a new dog."
The words hit like sparks to gasoline. Ayla felt something growl low in her chest before she could stop it. Her hands twitched—claws itching to tear.
Lucien's voice cut in, quiet but deadly. "Careful."
Vivienne raised a brow. "Or what?"
Ayla's lips pulled back, just enough to flash the faintest glimpse of fang.
For the first time, Vivienne's smirk faltered.
Chapter 15 – Lessons in the Dark
The night air smelled like rain. Ayla shivered as she followed Lucien into the abandoned athletics field behind the school.
"This feels… illegal," she whispered, hugging her jacket tighter.
Lucien's pale skin caught the faint moonlight, giving him an almost carved look, like marble that had come alive. Yet when he turned toward her, his expression wasn't cold—it was calm, focused, steady.
"Good," he said simply. "Fear means you're awake. It sharpens you. But if you let it control you, you'll lose."
"Lose what?" she asked, her breath clouding.
His dark eyes flicked to hers. "Everything."
First Test
He stopped in the middle of the field, the grass crunching under his boots. "Close your eyes."
Ayla hesitated. "What, like—trust fall vibes?"
"Close them," he repeated, voice firmer.
She did.
"Now—listen. Don't just hear. Listen. The wind. The trees. The ground under you. Focus on your senses."
At first, there was only silence. But then…
She heard the hum of streetlights far away. The brush of an owl's wings overhead. The thud-thud-thud of a heartbeat—fast, alive, and close.
Her eyes snapped open. "That's—"
"Mine," Lucien said, watching her carefully. "Good. You're stronger than you think."
But Control Was Hard
"Now—catch me."
She blinked. "What?"
Lucien gave her a rare, faint smirk. "Catch me."
And then he vanished. One second he was in front of her, the next he was a blur in the shadows, his pale skin flashing briefly as he moved.
Ayla cursed under her breath and bolted after him. Her body felt lighter, faster, stronger than ever. For a second she thought she might actually do it—
But Lucien reappeared behind her, arms crossed, not even winded.
"You're letting anger lead," he said calmly. "That makes you sloppy."
Ayla growled in frustration. "Oh, screw you—"
And then her foot caught, sending her sprawling into the mud.
Lucien crouched beside her, offering a hand. His pale fingers glowed faintly against the darkness. "Lesson one, Ayla: strength without balance is chaos. Find your anchor—or you'll destroy everything around you."
Enter the Squad
"Aylaaaa!"
Both of them froze.
Three silhouettes came stumbling across the field—Maya, Lena, and Chloe, armed with a flashlight, snacks, and way too much curiosity.
"Oh my God, there you are," Chloe puffed, waving the flashlight. "We thought you got murdered or abducted by aliens or something."
Maya grinned, holding up a bag of chips. "We brought provisions. You're welcome."
Lena's eyes landed on Lucien. She raised a brow. "And of course. He's here. Again. Broody Batman."
Lucien straightened, his jaw tightening. The faint paleness of his skin seemed sharper under the harsh flashlight beam.
"Wow," Chloe whispered. "You're like… pale, pale. Do you use sunscreen or something?"
Lucien's lip twitched, but he said nothing.
Ayla wanted to sink into the dirt. "Guys—seriously—"
"Oh relax," Maya said, flopping onto the grass. "We're just here for moral support. You can keep making googly eyes at him; we'll supervise."
Lucien shot Ayla a look that said: this is exactly what I meant by distractions.
The Anchor Lesson
Later, when her friends finally wandered off (still giggling and rating Lucien's "mysterious hotness" out of ten), Lucien turned back to her.
"You see?" he murmured. "They're your weakness. And your strength. Both."
Ayla frowned. "What does that even mean?"
Lucien stepped closer, his pale skin ghostlike under the moon. "When the rage hits—when the hunger claws at you—find them. Hold onto their faces, their voices. Your anchor isn't me. It isn't power. It's them."
She swallowed hard, realizing the truth. He was right.
Her friends—her pack.
Chapter 16 – The Wolf Within
The night was thick with fog, curling low across the empty football field. Ayla rubbed her arms, the chill sliding into her bones despite her new strength.
Lucien stood a few feet away, his pale skin glowing faintly under the floodlights, like a statue carved from moonlight.
"You're holding back," he said, his tone flat.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are." His dark eyes cut into her. "You think you're protecting yourself. You're not. You're burying yourself alive."
Ayla clenched her fists. "I don't want to turn into some monster. I'm still me."
Lucien stepped closer, his voice low. "Then prove it."
The Spark
He tossed a piece of metal piping onto the field—it clanged loud against the turf. "Pick it up."
Ayla frowned but obeyed.
"Now, hit me."
Her mouth fell open. "What? No!"
"Hit me, Ayla." His voice was steady, cold. "Or I'll make you."
Something in his words stirred her blood. She felt heat crawl under her skin, her pulse doubling. Her nails tingled, itching, lengthening.
"Stop looking at me like that," she snapped.
"I'm looking at the wolf," he said softly. "Let it out."
Her vision flickered gold—her hands curled into claws. She dropped the pipe with a gasp.
"What's—what's happening?"
Lucien didn't move. "Control it. Or it controls you."
The Break
Her body bent forward, muscles screaming, teeth sharpening. A low growl slipped out, shocking her.
Lucien's pale figure blurred, suddenly at her side. "Anchor, Ayla. Find your anchor!"
But all she saw was red. The hunger. The fury. The wildness begging to be free.
And then—
"AYLA!"
Three voices rang out.
Her glowing golden eyes snapped to the bleachers—where Maya, Lena, and Chloe stood, wide-eyed, holding sodas and popcorn like this was some midnight movie screening.
"Oh my God," Chloe whispered. "Did her eyes just—glow?"
"Bro," Maya hissed. "That's not contacts."
Lena dropped her soda, jaw slack. "Tell me we're not about to get eaten. I literally just bought this outfit."
Chaos Ensues
Ayla's claws scraped the turf as she staggered forward. Her throat burned. Their heartbeats—so fast, so loud—pounded in her ears like drums.
Lucien grabbed her shoulders, pinning her in place. "Ayla—listen to me. Not them. Me!"
But her golden gaze locked onto Chloe, whose terrified squeak only made it worse.
"Uh, guys," Chloe whispered, backing up, "she looks like she wants to eat me—"
Maya stepped forward, shaking. "Ayla. Babe. Remember me? Your ride-or-die? Don't wolf out, okay? We still have matching nails to do this weekend."
A growl ripped from Ayla's chest.
Lucien snarled, his own fangs flashing. "Back. Away."
The Anchor
The sound of his voice cut through her haze—deep, commanding, unshakable.
Her gaze swung to him, and in that moment, she saw not prey, not hunger—just him. The calm. The control.
Her claws retracted. Her breath slowed. The gold in her eyes dimmed to brown.
She collapsed against him, trembling.
Lucien caught her easily, his pale hand brushing her hair back. "You did it," he whispered. "You stopped it."
Behind them, Maya's voice squeaked. "Sooo… are we just gonna ignore that my best friend grew claws like Wolverine?"
Lena crossed her arms. "Called it. Knew something was off."
Chloe blinked. "Wait—does this mean we're like… in a vampire-werewolf Netflix drama now?"
Lucien exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering: "This is going to be a problem."
Chapter 17 – Whispers in the Dark
The football field was silent again, save for the buzzing of the floodlights. Ayla sat cross-legged on the turf, her head in her hands, while her three best friends circled her like detectives at a crime scene.
"Okay," Maya started, pointing dramatically, "spill. Why do your eyes glow like freaking headlights?"
"And the claws," Lena added, arms folded. "Like… are you secretly auditioning for a horror movie? Or is this some kind of creepy skincare side effect?"
"I'm voting alien," Chloe said brightly. "Like, she got abducted, they did experiments, boom—sexy wolf girl."
Ayla groaned. "Guys. Please. It's not like that."
"Oh, so you admit it's something!" Maya gasped, snapping her fingers.
Lucien's Intervention
Lucien stood nearby, silent, arms crossed. His pale skin caught the light, his face unreadable.
"She doesn't owe you explanations," he said finally, his voice low.
Maya shot him a glare. "Excuse you, mystery boy. We've known Ayla way longer than you. If she's suddenly glowing and growling, we deserve answers."
Ayla winced. "Maya, stop—"
"No," Maya pressed, eyes narrowing at Lucien. "Who even are you? Why is it that every time something weird happens, you're right there?"
Lucien's lips curled faintly, but he didn't reply. He just gave Ayla a look—one she understood.
"Guys," Ayla cut in, forcing a smile. "It's fine. I'll explain… later. Just not tonight, okay?"
The three exchanged looks, muttering, but reluctantly nodded.
The Walk Home
Later, as her friends left in a noisy trio, Ayla lingered with Lucien. The night was cool, the air thick with tension.
"You shouldn't have lost control like that," he murmured.
Her chest tightened. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," he cut in, softer this time. "But you pulled back. You fought it. That means you're stronger than most."
A flush crept up her cheeks. "You're… proud of me?"
Lucien's eyes lingered on her—deep, unreadable pools. "More than you realize."
Her heart fluttered, but before she could speak, he looked away, his jaw tightening. "Just remember, Ayla. The more people who see what you are, the more danger you invite."
She swallowed hard, glancing toward the street where Maya, Lena, and Chloe disappeared. "They won't tell anyone. I trust them."
"Trust," he said darkly, "is a fragile thing."
The Next Day
At school, things didn't feel any less chaotic.
Maya had brought coffee, Lena sunglasses, and Chloe a notebook labeled "Ayla's Secret Powers Log."
"Day One," Chloe read aloud. "Subject growled at us. Nearly mauled us. Zero out of ten, would not recommend."
Ayla groaned, slamming her locker shut. "You guys are the worst."
Lena smirked. "Correction: we're the best. Best friends. Who now know you're some kind of… what, supernatural cheerleader?"
"Shh!" Ayla hissed.
But it was too late. A pair of sharp eyes flicked toward them from down the hall.
Vivienne.
She leaned against the lockers, pretending to scroll on her phone, but her ears were tuned to every word. The smirk on her lips said it all: she had heard enough.
Chapter 19 – The Smile That Knew Too Much
The hallway smelled faintly of perfume and floor polish, buzzing with chatter as students spilled from class. Ayla juggled her books against her hip, distracted, when a shadow fell across her path.
"Wow," a velvet voice purred. "You're practically glowing these days."
Vivienne.
She stood there with her perfect hair and glass-cut smile, leaning lazily against the lockers as if she owned the corridor. Her eyes glittered like she knew something—like she'd been waiting for this moment.
Ayla's throat tightened. "Uh… thanks?"
Vivienne's lips curled. "Oh, don't be modest. It's not just pretty-girl glow. It's something else. Almost…" She tilted her head, her gaze sharp as a blade. "…animal."
Ayla's stomach dropped.
Before she could stammer out an excuse, Maya appeared like a hurricane, slamming her books onto Vivienne's locker.
"Animal? Honey, she's human perfection. Don't project just because your last Botox didn't settle right."
Chloe choked on laughter behind her. "Dead."
Lena slid in on Ayla's other side like backup, tossing her hair. "Viv, maybe you should worry about yourself instead of Ayla. Didn't your last boytoy dump you for… oh, what was her name? Oh right—literally anyone else."
The hallway erupted in muffled "ooohs" from onlookers.
Vivienne's jaw flexed, but she didn't take her eyes off Ayla. And then—she smiled. Slowly. Wickedly.
"We'll talk later," she whispered, brushing past Ayla so close her perfume lingered like smoke.
At Lunch
The cafeteria felt louder than usual, maybe because Ayla's nerves were still jangling. She sat between her friends while they dissected Vivienne's little ambush.
"She's up to something," Maya muttered, stabbing her salad like it had personally wronged her. "You don't just call someone 'animal' in broad daylight unless you're—like—jealous or insane."
"Or both," Chloe added, mouth full of fries. "Which, let's be honest, fits Vivienne."
"Still…" Lena leaned forward, eyeing Ayla. "You've been off lately. And before you roll your eyes—don't. I know you. You used to party with us until dawn, flirt with half the basketball team for sport. Now you're sneaking around like a ninja."
Ayla forced a laugh. "Maybe I'm just… growing up?"
Maya arched a brow. "Girl, no. Growing up is when you buy a boring beige sweater. You? You're acting like—" she lowered her voice dramatically—"a Marvel character with a tragic backstory."
Chloe slapped the table. "YES! She's, like… Catwoman if Catwoman ditched leather for Prada!"
The table dissolved into laughter, Ayla along with them, though her chest felt heavy. If only they knew how close their jokes were to the truth.
Lucien's Warning
Later that evening, Ayla met Lucien outside the library, where the fading light turned his skin pale gold. He leaned against the iron gate, his presence pulling the air tight around him.
"You're quiet," he said, watching her.
She hesitated. "Vivienne… said some things."
His jaw tensed. "What kind of things?"
"That I'm… glowing. Animal." Ayla glanced up nervously. "She knows something, Lucien. I don't know how, but—"
"She doesn't know enough." His voice was low, steady. "But if she keeps watching, she'll find what she's looking for."
Ayla's pulse quickened. "So what do we do?"
Lucien stepped closer, shadows darkening his sharp features. "We do nothing."
"Nothing?" she repeated, incredulous.
"Attention feeds fire. You push back, she'll just dig deeper. The trick is to starve her of clues." His gaze softened slightly. "Can you do that?"
Ayla swallowed hard. "I can try."
But when Lucien's hand brushed hers, grounding and steady, she thought: How do I hide something that's already burning through my skin?
Vivienne's Secret
Across town, Vivienne replayed the shaky phone video she'd recorded from outside the warehouse days ago. The screen glowed in the dark of her room: Ayla's eyes blazing gold, claws slashing through shadows, Lucien moving too fast to be human.
Vivienne's lips parted in delight.
"Oh, Ayla," she whispered. "You're not just a rival. You're a story. And I'm going to write it."
She tapped the screen, sending the video to a folder labeled: PROJECT HUNTRESS.
Chapter 20 – The Date That Wasn't
Lucien stood awkwardly at the corner of Ayla's driveway, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets like he was bracing for a storm. His posture said hunter on alert, but his face… his face said someone who had no idea how to do this thing called dating.
Ayla came bounding down the steps in ripped jeans, boots, and a jacket that probably cost more than the car parked out front. She had her hair tied in a messy bun, strands falling into her face.
"Well?" she asked, planting herself in front of him, chin lifted. "You're supposed to say something."
Lucien blinked. "About what?"
"My outfit. My effort. Compliment me, Lucien."
He frowned, actually studying her. His gaze lingered longer than it should have, softening. "You're… distracting."
Ayla raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
"That's all I have. Words aren't enough."
For some reason, that made her blush harder than a dozen flowery compliments would have. She quickly cleared her throat. "Fine. You get a pass. This time."
Destination: "Normal"
Lucien led her through quiet backstreets instead of toward the mall or movies. After ten minutes, Ayla realized something was off.
"Uh, where exactly are we going? Because unless there's a five-star restaurant hidden behind that dumpster, I think you're lost."
Lucien didn't flinch. "Humans… go on dates in public. They sit. Eat. Laugh."
Ayla smirked. "Yes, that's generally the idea."
"I thought I'd… test the ritual."
They stopped in front of a neon-lit diner that looked straight out of a 90s movie. Greasy smell in the air, jukebox visible through the window, bored waitress chewing gum behind the counter.
Ayla burst out laughing. "You brought me to a diner?"
Lucien looked uncertain. "Is that wrong?"
"No, it's—" She shook her head, grinning. "It's perfect."
Inside the Diner
They slid into a booth, Ayla trying not to laugh at the way Lucien sat—rigid, like he was preparing for interrogation.
The waitress sauntered over. "What can I get you two lovebirds?"
Lucien froze. Ayla answered quickly: "Two burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Extra whipped cream."
The waitress winked and left.
Lucien frowned. "Why did she call us—"
"Lovebirds? Because we look like a couple."
His expression was unreadable. "We are a couple."
Ayla choked on her water. "Excuse me?"
"You agreed to the bond," Lucien said calmly. "Your life is tied to mine. That makes you mine."
Heat rushed up Ayla's neck. "Okay, first of all, possessive much? Second of all—just because you bit me doesn't mean you get to skip the whole dating process. That's not how this works, Draven."
Lucien tilted his head, studying her as though this was an alien concept. "…So we're not a couple?"
Ayla groaned, covering her face. "You're impossible."
But she was smiling under her hands.
Just then, her phone buzzed. Group chat: Maya, Lena, Chloe.
Maya: Girl are you on a DATE right now??? Spill.
Lena: Send pics or it didn't happen.
Chloe: He better be hot enough to justify ditching us at karaoke.
Ayla quickly snapped a picture under the table: Lucien staring intensely at the jukebox like he was trying to murder it with his mind. She sent it.
Three dots blinked. Then—
Maya: WTF he looks like a vampire in an Abercrombie ad.
Lena: IS THAT THE QUIET LONER GUY FROM CHEMISTRY??
Chloe: AYLA. YOU ARE LIVING A WATTPAD STORY.
Ayla bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Lucien glanced at her. "What is so funny?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, shoving her phone away.
The Shadow of Vivienne
The burgers arrived, clattering onto the table. Ayla dug in, making exaggerated noises of happiness just to mess with Lucien. He eyed the food like it was radioactive, then picked up a fry and inspected it.
"You're supposed to eat it, not interrogate it," she teased.
He took a tentative bite. His eyes widened slightly. "…This is good."
Ayla grinned. "Welcome to humanity."
For a moment, it felt… normal. Just two teenagers at a diner. But then—
Across the street, Ayla caught a flash of blonde hair in the window reflection. A familiar silhouette. Watching.
Vivienne.
Ayla's blood ran cold. She leaned closer to Lucien, whispering, "She's here."
Lucien didn't look, but his voice dropped to a growl only she could hear. "Then let her watch. She won't see weakness."
Ayla swallowed, her burger suddenly forgotten. Because in Vivienne's smile, reflected in the glass, she saw something dangerous. Something planned.
And deep down, Ayla knew: this "date" wasn't just for them. It was bait.
Chapter 21 – First Hunt Together
The snow crunched beneath Ayla's boots as she followed Lucien deeper into the forest. It was late, the kind of late where even the moon seemed tired. Clouds hung low, and every breath puffed out in white mist.
"This is insane," she muttered, pulling her jacket tighter. "Normal girls go on second dates to the movies. Popcorn. Netflix. Not—" She waved her arms around. "—whatever this is."
Lucien's voice drifted back, low and steady. "You're not normal anymore."
"Gee, thanks."
"Not an insult," he said. "It's truth."
Ayla rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the shiver that wasn't from the cold. There was something about his words—how final they sounded—that reminded her just how much her life had changed.
The Lesson
They stopped at a small clearing. Lucien turned to face her, his dark coat blending with the night, his pale skin faintly glowing under the moonlight.
"Tonight you hunt," he said simply.
Ayla blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You've tasted blood, but not on purpose. You need control. Strength. Otherwise, the hunger will control you."
Her stomach twisted. She hated how the word "blood" made her throat tighten with craving.
"So what? I'm supposed to… what? Kill a rabbit?"
Lucien's eyes glinted. "Not tonight. Something worse lurks here."
A growl echoed through the trees—low, guttural, not quite wolf, not quite bear.
Ayla froze. "That… wasn't a rabbit."
Lucien's lips curled. "No. That's what they've made."
The Hybrid
Branches snapped in the distance. Something huge lumbered into the clearing.
A beast, its fur mottled black and gray, eyes glowing sickly yellow. Wolf-shaped, but too broad, too heavy, its shoulders hunched like a bear's. Saliva dripped from fangs longer than Ayla's forearm.
It roared, a sound that rattled the trees.
Ayla stumbled back. "Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. That thing skipped leg day but never missed steroids."
Lucien smirked at her panic, though his gaze stayed locked on the creature. "Hunters tampered with blood. Tried to make a weapon."
"And we're supposed to fight it?!"
"Yes."
"Lucien, it's literally twice your size!"
He finally glanced at her, his eyes flickering gold. "Size doesn't matter."
Ayla gaped. "Easy for you to say! You're not five-foot-five with a shopping addiction!"
The beast roared again, charging.
The Fight
Lucien shoved Ayla aside just as claws raked the snow where she'd been standing. He shifted mid-leap, bones cracking, fur bursting across his body. The black wolf hit the ground with a snarl, fangs bared.
The two monsters collided.
Claws against claws, teeth snapping, snow flying. Lucien's wolf form was sleek, black as midnight, eyes burning gold. The hybrid was heavier, stronger, but slower.
Ayla scrambled to her feet, heart hammering. She felt it—the hunger, the pull, the power inside her veins. Her body buzzed with it.
When the hybrid flung Lucien into a tree with a bone-shaking crash, something inside her snapped.
"Get off him!"
She felt it—the fire spreading under her skin, her heartbeat echoing in her skull. Then, with a sharp gasp, her body twisted, reshaped.
Claws. Fangs. Fur.
Her vision sharpened, scents flooding her senses. She landed on all fours. A wolf—smaller than Lucien, but fast, sharp, blazing with new instinct.
First Kill
The hybrid turned on her, snarling. Ayla growled back, surprising herself with the ferocity in her throat. She darted left as it lunged, then clamped her teeth into its hind leg.
It howled, staggering. Lucien lunged from the other side, jaws closing on its throat. Together, they dragged it down into the snow.
The struggle was brutal, savage. Blood sprayed, steaming in the cold air. Ayla's teeth sank deeper, the taste metallic and wild.
Finally, with a shuddering roar, the hybrid collapsed. Dead.
Silence. Only their heavy breathing.
Aftermath
Ayla shifted back first, collapsing in the snow, body trembling from the transformation. Her clothes were shredded, skin streaked with blood that wasn't hers.
Lucien shifted back too, kneeling beside her. He looked battered, blood running down his cheek—but his expression was calm. Almost proud.
"You fought well."
Ayla coughed out a laugh, shaky and half-hysterical. "I bit a mutant wolf-bear in the butt. That's… not what I'd call fighting well."
Lucien's lips twitched. "It worked."
She let out a tired groan, flopping onto her back. "First date was burgers. Second date, monster hunting. I can't wait to see what date three is. A volcano?"
Lucien lay beside her in the snow, his pale skin faintly glowing in the moonlight. "You're alive. That's enough."
For the first time, Ayla realized he wasn't talking about the fight.
He meant her choice. Her transformation.
And in that frozen clearing, blood still steaming in the snow, Ayla finally understood: she wasn't just his love interest anymore.
She was his equal.