Chapter 4: The Day I Finally Snapped

Starting the next day, Amber began targeting me.

If I pulled out a pink-wrapped pack of tissues, she would say, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Even her tissues have to be pink. Is she trying to market herself as a doll?”

After art class, when I cleaned paint off my hands with a wet wipe, she’d glance over at a few of the boys. “Look. The princess is afraid of getting her hands dirty again.”

The day we rearranged our seats, I got tired moving my desk and stopped to catch my breath. Amber immediately called out, “The princess can’t move her desk. Any knights from warrior prep want to go rescue her?”

A few of the boys who played basketball with her or trained with her in close combat always played along. They thought it was hilarious, each one laughing louder than the last.

At first, Cole would tell them to knock it off.

But Amber would just say, “I’m helping her fit in. She’s always so aloof, like she’s too good for the rest of us ordinary wolves.”

After hearing that enough times, Cole actually nodded seriously. “Aurora does have a bit of a princess complex.”

Amber punched his shoulder playfully. “Don’t lump me in with her. I could fall face-first into the mud and still finish close-combat training.”

Cole laughed.

Something sour twisted in my gut.

I had always known Cole thought I was delicate. I didn’t like training in the mud. I liked pink. I was a neat freak. And I wasn’t as physically strong as the students in warrior prep.

But I was good at math and strategy, and I could control the sharpened senses and strength that came with my awakened wolf better than most.

Gentleness was not the same as weakness.

Eventually, I snapped.

That summer, my parents and I had gone to the beach, and I’d gotten a deep tan. It had happened before; my skin would return to its normal shade in a few weeks, and I didn’t care.

Not long after school started, I wore a pink shirt under my sweater.

When Amber saw it, she raised her voice dramatically. “Aurora, you’re still wearing that color with a tan that dark? Don’t you think that’s a little tragic?”

One of the boys chimed in, “Where’s the little pink princess? You look more like a stray pup that rolled in the mud.”

Among wolves, “stray” wasn’t a joke. It meant having no pack, no territory, no one’s protection.

She and a few boys erupted in laughter.

Cole seemed to think it was funny, too. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.

Blood rushed to my head.

With their laughter ringing in my ears, I grabbed my water bottle and threw its contents right in Amber’s face.

She froze, stunned, before frantically wiping at her drenched face. Her eyeliner was already starting to run. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you insane?”

“You dress like you’re on a recruiting poster for the pack guard, but that doesn’t make you any more real than anyone else,” I shot back, mimicking her tone. “Is it fun? Tearing down other girls to get a few boys to cheer for you?”

Several boys stepped in front of Amber, frowning at me.

Cole stood at the very front, snatching the water bottle from my hand.

“Aurora. Apologize.” He looked down at me, his voice ice-cold.

My eyes were burning as I stared back at him. “Didn’t you hear what she said? She called me a stray.”

“That’s a separate issue. You already insulted her back. Now you need to apologize for throwing the water.” His voice hardened. “If you did something wrong, admit it. Stop making this worse.”

He deliberately pushed wolf dominance into his voice—a technique used by warriors to break up fights, something he should never have used to force a classmate to submit. Echo recoiled, her alarm screaming through my body.

“Apologize,” Cole commanded. “And Amber won’t press the issue.”

I let out a cold, sharp laugh.

“Go to hell.”

Cole’s eyes widened.

Then he raised his hand and slapped me.