48

From a young age, we were taught there are four main species in our world.
Humans ever-ambitious, constantly building and expanding their domains. They raise skyscrapers, rush about in their suits, smartphones glued to their ears, always in motion.
Vampires nocturnal creatures who rely on humans for sustenance. Their incredible speed allows them to move unseen, blending with the night. Many can cloak themselves within the darkness, becoming one with the shadows.
Werewolves shapeshifters with the spirit of a wolf inside them. They can shift from the age of ten or older, and their fated mate is revealed to them at sixteen or beyond. Their strength and speed set them apart, and they live in tightly-knit packs, led by an Alpha.
Fae mysterious beings, bound by their inability to lie. Forced for centuries to speak only truth, they’ve become masters of twisting words to their advantage. Little is known about them, as they keep to themselves. Encountering a Fae is rare; speaking to one is nearly unheard of.
***
“I can’t stand Leonardo,” I muttered, casting a long glance at Bianca.
Tomorrow was my sixteenth birthday, and my mom had been trying hard to keep my spirits up. Sixteen meant I’d be able to find my mate my other half. I’d built up so many hopes for what that day might bring. After my dad died, I stopped wanting birthday parties. It just didn’t feel right to celebrate another year of life when he wasn’t there to share it. Eventually, Mom stopped asking. Birthdays became small, private moments between the two of us. She’d leave a little cake and a couple of presents on the counter before heading off to her job as the Pack Doctor.
Talking to her about my feelings was difficult. Mentioning Dad always brought a faraway look to her eyes, a veil of memories draping over her. I could see her mind drifting back to when Dad was alive, and her eyes would fill with unshed tears. I couldn’t bring myself to add more weight to the grief she already carried. Even though she did everything she could for me, there was always a piece of her that was missing. I liked to think that part of her was with Dad now.
“He’s just a jerk,” Bianca said with a frown, tying her dirty blonde hair into a bun. “Are you doing anything special for tomorrow?”
I was grateful for the subject change, letting me avoid dwelling too long on Leonardo. He and his friends had been targeting me for ages, knowing I wouldn’t fight back. I envied how Bianca never seemed to draw their attention. Still, I wouldn’t wish that on her or anyone else.
“Not really,” I shrugged. “I’ll meet my mate eventually, but I’m not big on birthdays.”
Bianca smiled warmly. “Well, we could hang out after school tomorrow. Wander around a bit.”
“That sounds nice,” I said, even though I wasn’t feeling up to much. Every year on my birthday, I’d meet Andrea at the stream, and every year until last, he’d always been there. His absence had left an ache, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow would feel empty without him. I’d never told anyone about Andrea; he and I had been each other’s secret for years.
The school bus stopped at the end of our street, and we made our way to my modest home. It wasn’t extravagant, but it had always been enough for my mom and me. We found happiness in the simple things, never needing more.
We sat on the front porch, absently picking at the peeling baby-pink paint. Three years ago, in an effort to cheer me up, Mom had asked me what color we should repaint the porch. I’d said “pink” on a whim, not thinking she’d go for it. That same day, she came home with buckets of pink paint, her tired face lit up with a smile.
The familiar roar of Leonardo Grimstone’s car disrupted our quiet moment. It screeched to a stop outside his house, just down the road. Leonardo had been our neighbor since I was eleven. His father, Alpha Dominic, was the leader of our pack-the Silver Moon Pack-the largest and most feared in the country. His reputation was ruthless, and it trickled down to his son and his friends.
Leonardo stepped out of his car, his gang of tormentors in tow. Francesca, with her striking tan skin and Spanish accent, was glued to his side. Livia, Dante, and Fabio followed, each of them contributing their own special brand of bullying. Leonardo, with his dark hair and steely grey eyes, never engaged directly but always stood by while they tormented me. Their cruelty had made my high school years a living nightmare.
“Look, Fabio,” Livia sneered, locking her eyes on me. “The freak actually has a friend.”
Fabio smirked in my direction, mimicking the motion of wiping away a tear. I averted my gaze, focusing on Bianca’s annoyed expression.
“Just ignore them,” she muttered, pulling out her homework. I tried to follow her lead, but before I could even get my papers out, Dante snatched them from my hands.
“This your homework?” he taunted, holding the pages just out of my reach.
“Yes,” I said quietly, the knot in my throat tightening. “It’s my homework.”
With a smirk, he ripped the papers in half, the sound cutting through the air. Laughter erupted from his friends as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
“Don’t let them see you cry,” my wolf, Blue, whispered in the back of my mind.
I bit down hard on my lip, staring at the chipped paint beneath me as they sauntered away, Leonardo casting a disinterested glance in my direction before disappearing inside.
Bianca sighed, pulling me back into reality. She had tried encouraging me to stand up for myself once, but that had only made things worse. Now, she didn’t push the issue. She knew better than to make things harder for me.
We finished our homework in silence, retreating into the house until my mom returned from work. She arrived later that evening, her face showing the signs of a long day.
Dinner was simple, something thrown together in less than an hour. Cooking was my dad’s thing, and though I couldn’t recall many of the meals we shared, I knew he loved experimenting in the kitchen.
“Mr. Benedetti came to the hospital today,” Mom said with an exaggerated groan, which made me burst into laughter.
Bianca looked confused, glancing between us. Mom wore a look of exasperation, while mine was full of amusement.
“Mr. Benedetti is this old werewolf who has a huge crush on my mom,” I explained, grinning as my mom tried to suppress a shudder.
“He’s been trying to win me over since his mate passed away two years ago,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “But he’s a little late-and about forty years too old.”
Mom always had a way of bringing light to even the darkest moments, her optimism something I admired deeply. Despite everything, she made me laugh, even on the hardest days.
But as my sixteenth birthday approached, my once black-and-white view of the world began to shift. I started to see the shades of grey that I’d always ignored-the complexities in people, in events, and in life itself. And everything was about to change.