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Chapter 1 — Oh No Not Today
June
I used to think I understood bad days, but I was wrong. I didn’t know how fast everything could fall apart—especially when your heart already fails you and your mother loves you, but not enough to stop life from hurting you. Honestly, I don’t know.
But I do know that being woken up on a Monday morning with news that your whole life is about to change against your will has to be somewhere near the top.
“June. Wake up.”
My brows pinch together as I drag my blanket higher, trying to block out my mum’s voice.
“Five more minutes,” I mumble.
“No. Get up now.”
There’s something in her tone that makes my eyes open.
I squint at her sleepy-faced, still half tangled in my sheets. She’s standing beside my bed already dressed, her expression too stiff for this early in the morning.
My stomach drops.
That look never means anything good.
“What happened?” I ask, pushing myself up on my elbows.
She hesitates for a second.
Then she says, “By this evening, we’ll be leaving for our new home.”
I blink at her.
“What?”
She looks away first. “The pack has made its decision.”
My chest tightens even before she says the rest.
“I am to be mated to another Alpha,” she says quietly. “We’re moving into his territory by evening.”
For a moment, I just stare at her.
Then the shock wears off and anger rushes in so fast that my pulse trips over itself.
“No.”
The word comes out before I can stop it.
“No, you can’t just drop that on me like it’s nothing. You can’t just tell me we’re leaving by evening.”
“June…”
“No!” I throw off my blanket and sit up properly. “What do you mean the pack decided? Since when do they get to decide your life for you? Our life?”
Her mouth tightens. “You know how this works.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
My breathing grows uneven, too fast, too shallow, and I hate that I can already feel it happening. That familiar flutter starts in my chest, light at first, then wrong.
Dangerously wrong.
Mum notices too.
Her face changes immediately.
“June, calm down,” she says, stepping toward me. “Don’t do this to yourself this early in the morning.”
I laugh bitterly. “I’m not the one doing this.”
“Your condition is too complicated for this kind of stress.”
There it is. The sentence I’ve heard all my life. A daily reminder, constant warning and the curse that plagues me every second of the day.
My condition has a name. A long, clinical, ugly name that has followed me since birth like a sentence already passed.
Congenital Arrhythmic Collapse Syndrome.
CACS.
A rare heart disorder that makes my pulse spike, crash, and misfire whenever I’m too stressed, too scared, too overwhelmed.
Which means I faint. Sometimes in class and sometimes in the mall. Or anywhere the universe feels like making me a ridicule.
I once got a job at a restaurant, hoping to help my mum. But after serving only two tables on my first day… it ended up being my last.
So yes, I know my condition. I know it better than anyone.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, even though I’m obviously not.
Mum gives me that tired look mothers give when they know you’re lying and don’t have the strength to argue about it.
“You need to accept this,” she says more gently. “This is a good thing for us. A powerful pack means security and stability. We can finally breathe.”
I stare at her.
Maybe she means it.
Maybe she really believes this is some kind of miracle.
But all I hear is that once again, life is dragging us somewhere I didn’t choose and I’m expected to just quietly follow along.
Like always.
“When were you going to tell me?” I ask.
“This morning.”
I give a short, humorless laugh. “How generous.”
She exhales sharply, clearly losing patience. “June, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Then she turns and walks out of my room before I can say anything else.
The door closes behind her.
And just like that, I’m alone with the news.
Again.
I sit there for a few seconds, staring at nothing.
Then I drag myself out of bed and walk to the mirror.
It was the same face.
Same freckles dusted across my nose and cheeks.
Same glasses.
Same plain brown hair that never does anything interesting no matter what I try.
Same boring girl staring back at me like she already knows nothing exciting has ever happened to her and probably never will.
I hate mirrors in moments like this.
They always look too honest. No friends. No social life. No secret wild side waiting to break free.
Just me.
June Stombridge.
The girl people talk over, look through, or laugh at when they’re bored enough.
My throat tightens as my gaze lingers on my reflection.
Dad would have said something stupid right now.
Something cheesy about freckles being stars or glasses making me look smart or how one day people would regret underestimating me.
A painful lump rises in my throat.
He was the only person who ever made me feel like there was nothing wrong with me.
And then he died.
A rogue attack.
One night and he was just… gone.
Just like that.
And all I could do was hide behind my mum and shake.
Sometimes I still think if I had been stronger, faster, healthier, if I had been anything other than what I am, maybe I could have done something.
Maybe I could have helped.
Maybe Mum wouldn’t have had to spend the years after his death carrying everything alone.
My fingers curl against the edge of my dresser.
That guilt never really leaves.
Neither does the shame.
I force myself to look away from the mirror and get dressed.
By the time I’m done, I’m wearing what I always wear when I want to disappear into the background—baggy jeans, a loose sweater, and my glasses.
Nothing about me invites attention.
Good… Because that’s exactly how I like it.
I head downstairs, grab breakfast without really tasting it, and leave for school.
The walk there is the same as always.
The wind cold with too many thoughts and too much dread.
And when I get to school, the universe proves almost immediately that it still hates me.
“There she is.”
I don’t even need to look up to know who said it.
The cheerleaders. Patrice and Danielle.
Of course.
I keep walking, clutching my bag tighter.
“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Don’t-Stress-Me-Out,” Patrice says loudly, and the others laugh.
Danielle fake gasps. “Careful, guys. If we say hi too loudly, she might collapse.”
There was more laughter.
I keep my face blank and keep moving.
That’s the trick.
If you react, they enjoy it more.
If you don’t, they still enjoy it, but at least you don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing it hurt.
By first period, I’ve already been shoulder-checked twice, laughed at once, and ignored by everyone else.
So, a normal day.
The only good thing about today is the hockey game.
Our school is hosting one of those elite schools built for Alpha heirs and pack royalty, and for once everybody is too busy buzzing over that to pay much attention to me.
I love hockey.
Not in the loud, painted-face, scream-yourself-hoarse kind of way.
Just quietly.
I love the speed of it. The violence of it. The control. The way everything on the ice looks wild and precise at the same time.
I hardly ever go to games, though. Because there was too much noise. Too much attention.
Too many chances to end up embarrassed.
But today feels different.
Chapter 2 — How Dare You?
June
Today, I let myself hope things might go smoothly.
That nobody will look my way because all eyes will be on the rink.
That maybe I can slip in, watch from the back, and leave without anything terrible happening to me.
It’s a stupid hope.
I realize that the second warmth spreads between my thighs as I’m sneaking toward the building nearest the arena.
I stop walking.
No.
No, no, no.
Not today…Please not today.
My stomach drops so hard it almost hurts.
I shift slightly and feel it again.
Great.
Just perfect.
My period has decided to show up at the worst possible time.
Panic crawls up my throat as I tug my sweater lower and rush toward the nearest bathroom, praying no one has noticed.
I lock myself into a stall and stare down at the faint stain on my jeans.
For one full second, I consider just dying on the spot.
That would honestly be less humiliating.
Instead, I clean myself up as best as I can, wash my hands twice, and stay inside long enough for my face to cool down.
When I finally step out, I keep my head low and move fast.
Maybe I can still make it somewhere quiet.
Maybe nobody saw… then I slam into something hard.
A body.
A very large body.
The impact jolts through me, and before I can steady myself, something slips from the stranger’s hand and crashes to the floor.
A phone.
Its screen shatters on impact.
My heart nearly stops.
“Oh my God—I’m sorry,” I blurt out instantly, bending a little before freezing.
Because the person I just bumped into is not just anyone.
He’s wearing the dark jersey of the visiting school, Rhyhigh School for future Alphas.
He is tall, broad. Sharp-faced.
The kind of handsome that doesn’t look real up close.
And from the way he stares at me, cold and unreadable, I know exactly who he is.
The captain.
The one everyone has been talking about all morning.
Lucifer Starcrest.
He says nothing, not a single word.
He just looks at the broken phone on the floor, then at me.
And before I can open my mouth again, he grabs my wrist and shoves me against the wall.
My breath catches.
Pain flares through my back.
His body boxes me in completely.
He was too close.
My pulse jumps so hard it almost makes me dizzy.
“Do you normally go around smashing people’s property,” he says at last, voice low and dangerous, “or am I just lucky?”
I swallow hard.
“I said I’m sorry.”
His eyes drag over my face.
Then lower.
And lower.
Until they stop at the cleaned stain on my jeans.
The air changes.
Heat rushes to my face so fast it burns.
For the first time since he pinned me, his expression actually changed.
It wasn’t softer or kinder—if anything, it was sharper, meaner, and more unsettling than before..
And that is somehow worse.
His gaze lifts back to mine.
One dark brow arches.
“Well,” he murmurs. “This is interesting.”
My stomach twists.
I want the floor to open and swallow me whole.
I want his hand off me.
I want to go home.
I want today erased.
But all that comes out is a shaky, “Let go of me.”
Instead of moving, his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s noticing something about me that I don’t want noticed.
My uneven breathing.
My pulse.
The way my knees are suddenly too weak.
That awful flutter starts again in my chest.
My heartbeat turned fast and wrong, slipping into a dangerous one, and all I could think was—oh no… not now, not in front of him..
Chapter 3 — Is This What You Have To Offer?
JUNE
“Not… in front of him…”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and the moment they do, regret crashes into me.
Lucifer Starcrest goes completely still before slowly tilting his head, as if I’ve just said something amusing.
“Not in front of me?” he repeats, his voice low, a smirk already forming on his lips. “That’s exactly where this should happen.”
My stomach drops.
“I… please… I didn’t mean to…”
Too late.
His fingers tighten around my wrist, and before I can react, he yanks me forward so hard I almost crash into him again.
“Let’s go,” he says flatly.
“W-where?” I stammer, struggling to keep up.
He doesn’t answer. He just drags me along like I weigh nothing, like I don’t matter, pulling me down the hallway as my heart slams violently against my ribs.
My pulse racing way too fast.
I can feel it building—that familiar dangerous rhythm, the wrong, uneven beat that always comes before everything goes black.
Oh no…Not now…Not here.
Not in front of everyone.
But strangely… I don’t collapse.
I don’t black out.
I just keep moving, dragged forward, exposed and humiliated as the noise from the rink grows louder with every step.
Cheers, whistles, laughter—excitement fills the air, crashing into me the moment we step inside.
Then suddenly silence envelope the rink.
It spreads fast, like fire, because now everyone is looking.
At him, at me.
At the way he’s holding me.
At the stain on my jeans.
My chest tightens painfully as the urge to disappear hits me all at once. I want to vanish, to sink into the ground and never come back, but instead…
Lucifer stops at the center of the rink entrance and raises his voice.
“Is this what Golden Haven Pack school has to offer?” he asks loudly.
My heart drops.
No… please no…
“Students who walk around in heat and breaking other people’s phones?”
Laughter explodes across the rink—loud, cruel, and endless.
My ears ring as my vision starts to blur, panic rising fast.
“I didn’t mean to…please…”
“Did I ask you to speak?” he snaps.
I fall silent instantly.
The laughter grows, louder and sharper, and I feel it everywhere—in my chest, in my throat, in the burning behind my eyes. Tears threaten to spill, but I force them back.
Please not here, not in front of everyone.
Not in front of him.
“This is embarrassing,” one of his teammates mutters.
“Is she even a wolf?” another adds.
More laughter follows, and every word, every look, every second presses down on me until even breathing starts to feel like work.
“Please…” I whisper again, my voice breaking this time. “Just let me go…”
But he doesn’t.
Of course he doesn’t.
Instead, he leans closer, invading my space, his presence overwhelming.
“Begging doesn’t suit you,” he murmurs.
His gaze drifts slowly over my face, critical and cruel, like he’s picking me apart piece by piece.
“Actually… nothing suits you.”
The laughter erupts again, louder than before, and my hands start to shake as my chest tightens even harder. For a second, I’m sure I’m going to collapse.
But I don’t.
I stay standing just barely.
“Starcrest.”
A new voice cuts through the noise—deep and confident.
I turn immediately, hope flickering in my chest.
It’s our captain.
The captain of Golden Haven’s hockey team.
If anyone would help me, it should be him.
He steps forward, tall and composed, his gaze sweeping over the scene before settling on me. For a brief second, I think I see disapproval—and relief floods me.
Finally.
Someone who will stop this.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says.
My heart sinks instantly.
“Of all the people to represent this school today,” he continues, shaking his head in disgust, “it had to be you?”
The words hit harder than anything Lucifer said.
I freeze.
“What?” I whisper.
He scoffs. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
The laughter changed, spreading through the crowd again, and this time it feels like it’s coming from everywhere.
“Running around looking like that, causing a scene, breaking phones?” he adds. “You’ve already dragged our school’s name through the mud.”
My chest caves in.
“I didn’t…”
“Save it,” he cuts in coldly. “At this point, the only thing that can fix this embarrassment is us winning the game.”
Silence follows briefly.
Then Lucifer laughs in a low, mocking, completely unimpressed way.
“You think winning will fix this?” he says, amusement dripping from every word as he glances at his team, then back at ours. “I doubt your school can even stand the lowest player on my team.”
The insult lands hard, tension rippling across the rink.
But I don’t feel any of it.
All I feel is empty.
Completely empty.
Lucifer finally releases my wrist, and for a split second, relief washes through me…
Until he shoves me hard and I hit the ground, pain shooting through my palms and knees as the cold floor bites into my skin. Gasps, laughter, and whispers rise around me, but I don’t look up.
I can’t.
I scramble to my feet as fast as I can, my entire body shaking, and then I run.
I don’t stop for anyone or anything, I just run like everything behind me is chasing me.
I run out of the rink, out of the building, out of the school, the sound of laughter still echoing in my ears.
By the time I get home, my chest is burning, my breathing uneven, my heart still racing—but somehow, I’m still standing.
Still conscious.
Still here.
And that makes no sense.
I should have passed out back there.
I always do.
So why didn’t I?
I don’t have time to figure it out.
Because the moment I step into the compound, I freeze.
Cars line the driveway—too many of them, all black, expensive, and intimidating, with men in suits standing around like guards.
My stomach drops.
What is this?
I push the gate open slowly and step inside.
“June.”
My mum’s voice reaches me.
I turn to see her standing by the front door, beside a man, and the moment my eyes land on him, my breath catches.
He’s young—far younger than I expected.
Tall, handsome, sharp, but not in a cruel way. There’s a calm steadiness about him, a quiet control… an almost surprising kindness..
“This is Alpha Lorenzo…” my mum begins.
“I know who he is,” I cut in quietly.
Of course I do.
Everyone knows him.
A supreme Alpha.
Powerful. Respected. Dangerous in a different way.
He steps forward slightly, and then he smiles at me—not mocking or cruel way, just polite.
“June,” he says smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I stare at him, numb.
After everything that happened today, I don’t have the energy for this—for him, for any of it.
“I’m not interested,” I say flatly.
My mum stiffens. “June…”
“I said I’m not interested.”
My voice shakes this time, but I keep going.
“I don’t care what the pack decided. I don’t care about moving. I don’t care about any of this.”
My chest tightens again, but this time I don’t stop.
“I’ve had a horrible day,” I continue, my voice breaking slightly, “and I really don’t have the strength for this right now.”
Everywhere became silent. The room is awkward and tense.
I don’t look at my mum.
I don’t look at him.
I just turn and walk past them, straight into the house.
Because right now, I don’t want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or deal with anything.
And I definitely don’t want my life to change.
Not on a day that I have termed as the worst day of my life so far.
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