Chapter 3
Turning eighteen at Werewolf University was a big deal.
That was the night I shifted for the first time. My bones cracked, muscles stretched, and fur ripped through my skin as my wolf surged forward—wild, strong, alive.
And the very first thing she did?
She locked eyes on Malcolm and let out an earth-shaking howl in my head:
“Mate.”
To be honest, Malcolm wasn’t anyone’s dream Alpha.
He was from the slums of the Blue Moon Pack—an outsider at a school filled with legacy wolves and heirs to powerful packs. No one spared him a second glance.
Except me.
He was quiet, hardworking, always buried in books, determined to claw his way out of his past with nothing but sheer effort.
And somehow, the Moon Goddess paired us.
At first, he didn’t know what to do with me—Silver Claw’s princess, a future Alpha, the girl with the world at her feet.
So he did what any logical wolf would do.
He started awkwardly pursuing me.
Little things at first—saving me a seat in class, bringing me extra notes, making sure I ate during finals week. I noticed. I felt it.
And slowly, I fell for him.
By graduation, Malcolm had fought his way into my pack, becoming my Beta—for me, for us.
I thought we were endgame.
I thought I’d be walking down the aisle toward him.
Instead, I walked into a marriage with my best friend’s brother—a man I barely knew.
On the way home from the ceremony, my phone buzzed again.
A picture this time.
Malcolm’s dining table, piled high with food.
[Where are you? Dinner’s ready. Come late and there won’t be any left!]
Classic Malcolm. His love language? Feeding people.
His threats? Always about food.
I knew the rule. Late wolves don’t eat.
But I still wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I got home.
The table was a crime scene.
Plates empty, bones picked clean, not a single bite left.
And at the center of the chaos, Queenie.
She licked her fingers, gave me that oh-so-innocent, fake sweet smile, and murmured,
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Rowena. I was just really hungry… I couldn’t wait.”
The sting in her words was sharper than any claw.
I felt my blood surge, my wolf stirring beneath my skin. My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms.
Queenie and Malcolm grew up together.
Same streets. Same hunger. Same fight for survival.
To Malcolm, she was fragile. Someone to protect.
To me?
She was the crack that splintered us apart.
In the beginning, Malcolm and I had been solid.
We never fought. And if we did, he always apologized first—even when he wasn’t wrong.
People used to tell me how lucky I was.
Then six months ago, Queenie arrived in Silver Claw.
And the man who once adored me?
Changed.
“Rowena, why are you only just getting back?”
Malcolm emerged from the kitchen, frowning, his arms crossed over his chest.
I could hear the reproach in his tone, masked under that forced calm.
My wolf bristled.
He texted me, so I was supposed to come running. I always had.
Not tonight.
“There was something on the way back,” I said. “Delayed me.”
“What could possibly be more important than dinner?”
I exhaled sharply.
I wasn’t planning to tell him I got married.
I was done.
From now on, Malcolm was nothing more than a stranger to me.
“It’s work,” I said. “Silver Claw Packhouse sent me on a trip. I’m here to pack.”
I didn’t wait for his reaction.
I turned on my heel, marched to the bedroom, and swung the door open—
And froze.
Because what I saw inside?
I never saw it coming.
