At the bond-severing ceremony, my mate rejected me without hesitation.

"I, Damian, future Alpha of the Argent Pack, reject you, Astrid Stormont, as my Luna." And then he chose my twin sister instead.

The entire pack erupted in cheers. To them, I had always been the ugly twin, the weak one.

I accepted Damian's rejection… and then,

I released my true scent.

Chapter 1

Astrid's POV.

They say twins are supposed to be inseparable, like two halves of the same soul. That's cute in theory, but in reality? My twin sister and I might share a birthday, the same red hair, and identical hazel eyes, but that's where the similarities end.

Ariana is the star. The beautiful one. The one who walks into a room and somehow everything dims around her just so she can shine brighter.

And me? I'm the shadow that follows quietly behind, clutching books like a shield and pretending not to notice when people compare us.

Spoiler alert: they always compare us.

It was a constant everywhere, she was Ariana and I was "Ariana's sister".

Mother and father spoiled her to bits and somehow forgot that Ariana was my twin.

As we got older, Ariana's hair began to turn lighter, close to orange, while mine went from normal red to fiery red, just like my maternal grandmother's hair whom everyone apparently hated as she was pure wicked.

"Astrid, seriously?" Ariana's voice cuts through my thoughts like nails on a chalkboard.

I glance up from my sketchbook just in time to see her rolling her eyes dramatically in the full-length mirror. She's standing there in a tiny denim skirt and a crop top that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe.

If I had good clothes, they were Ariana's disposed clothes she probably wore once and lost interest.

Not that our parents couldn't afford it, the pack was wealthy, but I was just never a priority to them.

"What?" I ask, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

She spins around, hands on her hips.

"You're wearing that?"

I look down at myself.

An oversized hoodie with faded jeans. My sneakers even had paint splatters on them from last week's art project.

"Yeah," I mutter.

"What's wrong with it?"

Ariana's laugh is sharp, like glass breaking.

"What's right with it?" She struts across the room and plops onto my bed without permission, her perfume clouding the air—sweet, expensive, suffocating.

"You know Mom and Dad are taking us to brunch after school, right? You could at least try to look like you're related to me. Stop acting like an attention-seeking lone wolf."

My wallflower nature was apparently attention-seeking to them.

"I am related to you," I reply dryly, going back to shading the wings on my sketch.

"Unfortunately."

"Ha-ha. Hilarious." She leans over and snatches the pencil from my hand so fast it scrapes across the page, ruining the drawing.

"Hey!" I grab it back and growl. "What's your problem?"

"My problem," she says, flipping her perfect hair over her shoulder, "is that you keep acting like a freak. You're seventeen, going to eighteen, Astrid. No one cares about your little doodles. Try living in the real world for once. Soon, you will shift, and all these nonsense doodles will go. Dad will simply not allow it."

"They're not doodles. They're—" I stop myself because it doesn't matter. She wouldn't get it. She never does.

She was very capable of tearing my dreams apart.

I wanted to go to Edom University to study art after school and I was working towards a full scholarship because there was no way I was leaving my "precious twin" behind while wasting my time in Edom, they would say.

I didn't want to depend on them for anything.

I will go to Edom, meet my mate, and be happy with him and my art.

Hopefully, my mate wasn't in this pack, so I can be as far away as possible.

Ariana sighs like my existence is exhausting and stands, grabbing her designer bag.

"Whatever. Don't embarrass me today, okay? People already think it's weird that we're twins."

"Trust me," I mutter, closing my sketchbook carefully. "You do enough embarrassing for the both of us."

She gasps.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, sliding my sketchbook into my bag. There's no point in arguing. Ariana always wins, especially when Mom and Dad are around.

---

Breakfast is a war zone—if wars were fought with passive-aggressive comments and the constant ping of Ariana's phone notifications.

Mom sets a plate of pancakes in front of me without looking.

"Eat up, Astrid. You're so thin. It's unhealthy."

"Good morning to you too," I mumble, stabbing a piece of pancake with my fork.

"Don't mumble," Dad says from behind his newspaper. "It's unattractive."

Right. Because my biggest goal in life is to be attractive.

Ariana breezes in like the queen she believes she is, ki.ssing Mom on the cheek.

"Morning, Mom! Love your blouse. Is that new?"

Mom beams.

"It is! You have such an eye, sweetheart."

I sip my orange juice quietly, invisible as usual.

Ariana slides into the chair across from me and starts scrolling through her phone, her nails tapping against the screen.

"Oh my gosh, Madison just posted about her party tonight. It's going to be huge." She glances at me with a smirk.

"Don't worry, Astrid. You're not invited."

"I wasn't planning on going," I say flatly.

"Good," she chirps. "Wouldn't want you scaring people off with your creepy bookworm vibes."

"Ariana," Mom says in that fake-scolding tone that means nothing. "Be nice to your sister."

"I am nice," Ariana insists, flipping her hair again. "I'm just honest like you taught me to."

Dad chuckles like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

I push my chair back before they notice the way my hands tremble under the table.

If I had had my first shift, I would have just gone for a run.

Soon, though.

"I'm done," I say quietly, grabbing my bag.

"Wait," Mom calls. "Don't forget to smile today, Astrid. You look prettier when you smile."

I don't answer. I just walk out the door and let it slam behind me.

---

School isn't any better. It never is.

I slide into my usual seat in the back of English class, hoping to disappear. My safe zone: books, notebooks, and the quiet hum of my thoughts. But peace is short-lived because Ariana walks in, surrounded by her pack of friends, all laughter and lip gloss.

"Oh my Gosh, look at her," one of them whispers loudly. Madison, I think. She's the worst. "Same hoodie, three days in a row?"

I clench my jaw and keep my eyes on my notebook.

"Leave her," Ariana says, but her voice is dripping with amusement. "She likes being invisible."

Laughter erupts around me.

I bite down hard on my lip until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. If I look up, they'll see the tears burning behind my eyes. And I refuse to give them that satisfaction.

So I do what I always do—I hide. I shrink into myself, into the pages of my book, into the worlds I create with pencil and paper. Because in those worlds, I'm not the weird twin. I'm not the disappointment. I'm someone.

But even as I sketch the outline of how my wolf would look like during my first shift, in the margin of my notes, I can't drown out Ariana's voice echoing in my head.

You're going to be eighteen, Astrid. No one cares about your little doodles.

Maybe she's right. Maybe no one cares.

But that doesn't stop me from drawing anyway.

Chapter 2

Astrid's POV.

If high school had royalty, Ariana would be queen. No, scratch that—she is queen. Walking down the hallway with her entourage feels like watching a music video: hair that gleams like it belongs in a shampoo commercial, lip gloss so shiny it reflects the fluorescent lights, and that perfect laugh that makes every guy trip over his own shoelaces.

And then there's me—her twin. The footnote to her fairy tale.

The bell hasn't even rung, and I'm already counting down the hours until I can hide in my room again.

I'm at my locker, swapping out my English book for my art sketchpad, when I hear it. The laugh. Hers. Loud, perfect, and cruel. My stomach twists.

"Look at this!" Ariana's voice carries down the hall like an announcement on the PA system.

I freeze. I know that tone. That tone means trouble—for me.

I was always the buns of her jokes and pranks, always the one at the receiving end.

Slowly, I turn, and my worst fear is confirmed: Ariana is standing with Madison, Chloe, and Liam—the boy half the school drools over. In Ariana's hand is my sketchbook. My private sketchbook.

Oh no.

Those are in my portfolio.

What I would submit to Edom.

My throat closes.

"Give that back."

Ariana smiles sweetly, which is her signature look before she ruins someone's life.

"Relax, Astrid. We're just appreciating your… artwork."

Madison leans over Ariana's shoulder, her fake nails clicking against the cover.

"Ooh, what's this? An angel with, like, a sword? Cute. Super edgy."

"Seriously, Ari, your sister's got a wild imagination." Liam says, laughing as Ariana flips to another page.

"Is this supposed to be her wolf? Darn, this wolf is hot."

Liam let out a wolf whistle, and heat flooded my cheeks as they all laughed.

I shove through them and snatch the sketchbook out of Ariana's hands, clutching it to my chest like it's a life preserver.

"What is wrong with you?"

Ariana tilts her head, giving me that innocent look that everyone falls for. Everyone except me.

"What? We were just looking."

"No, you weren't," I snap. My voice shakes, and I hate it. "You were making fun of me."

Her smile widens, sharp and sugary.

"Astrid, don't be so dramatic. Honestly, you should thank me. At least people are finally noticing you for once."

"Noticing me?" I choke out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "By humiliating me?"

Ariana shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Oh, come on. It's just a few drawings. Who cares?"

"I care," I whisper.

She leans closer, lowering her voice so only I can hear.

"Then maybe stop hiding behind them and try being… I don't know… normal. Freak."

Before I can respond, Madison's voice cuts in.

"Hey, Ari, come on. We're gonna be late for wolf history. Liam, you coming?"

Liam grins at Ariana.

"Obviously."

She gives me one last smirk, the kind that twists in my gut like a knife, then saunters off with them like nothing happened. Like she didn't just rip me open and leave me bleeding in front of the whole hallway.

The bell rings, but I don't move. I just stand there, clutching my sketchbook so hard my knuckles turn white, wishing I could disappear.

---

By lunch, the whole school knows. Of course they do. Ariana doesn't even need social media to spread gossip—she has her smile, her charm, and a fan club that hangs on her every word.

I sit at the far corner of the cafeteria, stabbing my salad with a plastic fork like it personally offended me. The whispers float across the room like smoke.

"Did you see her drawings?"

"Total freak."

"Like, does she think she has the third eye?"

"She hasn't shifted yet, and she's drawing her wolf."

"Her wolf's probably going to be red."

"That would be so unattractive, yuck."

"She might be like her grandmother."

I keep my eyes on my tray, but my ears burn.

"Mind if I sit?" a voice asks.

I glance up and almost drop my fork. It's Mason—quiet, tall, always reading in the library like me. We've never really talked, but I've noticed him. Mostly because he's the only person in school who looks like he hates being here as much as I do.

"Um… sure," I say, scooting over.

He sits down, dropping his backpack on the bench.

"Ignore them," he says, nodding toward the whispering crowd. "People here are goofballs."

A surprised laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

"That's… accurate."

He smirks, pulling out a book from his bag.

"You draw, right? I mean, obviously, since…" He gestures vaguely.

I sigh, dropping my head into my hands.

"Don't remind me."

"Hey," he says softly. "They're just jealous."

I snort.

"Yeah, sure. Jealous of what? My ability to make a total fool of myself?"

"No," he says simply. "Jealous that you're good at something they don't understand. You'd definitely make it at Edom. You should apply."

For a second, I forget how to breathe. No one's ever said that to me before.

Before I can respond, though, a shadow falls over the table.

"Well, isn't this adorable?" Ariana's voice drips like honey, but it's poisonous. She's standing there with her friends, tray in hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Go away, Ariana," I say through clenched teeth.

"Relax," she coos, sliding into the seat beside me without asking. Madison and Chloe take the other spots, practically boxing me in. Mason tenses across from me, his jaw tightening.

"So," Ariana says loudly enough for half the cafeteria to hear. "Astrid's got herself a lunch date! Who knew?"

I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"Stop."

This was extremely embarrassing, with someone who didn't even know me.

Way to go, Ari.

"Why?" Ariana grins wickedly. "This is cute. Really. You two can bond over… I don't know… books and weird self-sketches. You both are probably mates. Two nerds fated together buried in books."

"That's enough," Mason says, his voice calm but firm.

Ariana blinks, feigning innocence.

"Oh? I'm just looking out for my sister. She doesn't get out much. Don't want her to miss out, or she would be so much alone in her books."

Madison giggles.

"Or at all."

My cheeks burn hotter than ever. I shove back my chair, my legs trembling.

"I'm done."

I grab my tray and storm out, ignoring Ariana's laughter trailing behind me like chains.

---

By the time I make it to the bathroom, the tears I've been holding back finally spill over. I lock myself in a stall and sink to the floor, clutching my sketchbook against my chest.

Why does she hate me so much? We're twins. Sisters. Aren't we supposed to have each other's backs?

The fact is, Ariana doesn't just want to be the best. She wants me to be less. And I'm so tired of letting her win.

I wipe my eyes and flip open the sketchbook. The angel with the sword stares back at me, strong and unbreakable. Everything I'm not.

Even the picture of how I imagined my wolf to be looked strong and independent, with a backbone.

She is probably going to turn out to be a red wolf like grandmother, but she sure as heck looked fierce.

Nothing like me.

But maybe… maybe one day I will be.

Chapter 3

Damian's POV.

Being an Alpha isn't just about strength—it's about control. Control of your pack. Control of your instincts. Control of the beast inside you that wants to rip apart anyone who challenges you.

That's what Alpha training is all about. And honestly? Most days, it feels like a test I can never fail. Because one mistake, one slip, and it isn't just me who suffers. It's everyone.

So yeah, my life is strict schedules, gruelling combat drills, endless lectures on diplomacy, and leadership. No parties. No freedom. No fun.

Ever since my father passed away from a heart attack, my uncle had taken the seat of Alpha until I was the right age to take over my place.

All I did was go to Edom for the Alpha training, with many other Alpha heirs from different packs.

In a year's time, I will assume my position as Alpha of Argent pack, like my father and his father.

But days like today? They remind me why it's worth it.

"Damian, the Stormont are here," my uncle calls from the foyer, his deep voice echoing through the mansion.

The Stormonts. A wealthy family in the pack, responsible for the gold mines.

I know the name, but I've never paid much attention to them or their kids—mainly because I don't have time for drama that doesn't involve keeping rogue wolf smugglers off our borders or reading in Edom.

Still, I smooth a hand over my black button-down shirt and make my way downstairs. As Alpha heir, appearances matter.

The first thing I notice when I reach the foyer is my mother, all grace and poise, greeting the guests. The second thing I notice?

Her.

The girl standing next to her mother isn't just pretty—she's devastating.

Long, glossy red hair cascading down her back, a figure that curves in all the right places, and a face that looks like it was carved by the gods. She's smiling at something my father says, and darn if that smile doesn't hit me like a punch to the gut.

I have never seen such beauty in this pack.

Who the heck is she?

I stride forward, masking the sudden rush of heat under my skin.

"Welcome," I say smoothly, my eyes locking on hers.

"I'm Damian."

Her eyes—golden-brown and bright—lift to meet mine, and for a second, she just stares. Like she wasn't expecting me. Then, her lips curve in a perfect smile.

"Ariana," she says, her voice soft and sweet like honey dripping from a spoon.

"It's nice to meet you."

Ariana. The name tastes good on my lingua.

"And this is our other daughter, Astrid." her mother adds, gesturing to the girl standing a step behind Ariana.

I glance at her briefly—plain clothes, oversized glasses, clutching a sketchbook like it's her lifeline. They looked alike, twins definitely, but not at all—and then my gaze slides right back to Ariana. Because honestly, the other one barely registers.

"Pleasure," I murmur automatically, though I don't even look long enough to see Astrid's reaction.

Ariana, though? She holds my attention like gravity.

---

We move into the sitting room, and as my parents chat with the Stormonts about business and alliances, I find myself watching Ariana. The way she crosses her legs, the delicate tilt of her head when she laughs, the soft pink gloss on her lips.

Every guy in this pack would slay for a chance with a girl like this.

She definitely knew she was pretty and a head turner.

And right now, she's sitting on my couch, in my house, smiling at me like she knows exactly what she's doing.

I wanted to ask if she was seeing anyone, but I changed my question the second I opened my mouth.

"So," I say, leaning back in my chair, letting my gaze settle on her.

"Do you come here often?"

Dumb question, of course not.

I would have seen her if she had come to my house.

Her smile widens.

"Not really. First time, actually."

"Then I'll make sure it's not your last."

Her cheeks flush the faintest shade of pink, and darn if it doesn't make me want to pull her closer, see if her lips taste as sweet as they look.

Astrid shifts uncomfortably in her seat, and for a split second, I remember she exists. She hasn't said a word this entire time. she just sits there like she wants to disappear into the wallpaper. I almost feel bad—almost—but then Ariana laughs at something I said, and I forget all about her again.

---

"So, Damian," Ariana says after a while, her voice lilting like music.

"Alpha training school… that sounds intense."

"It is," I admit with a smirk.

"Only the strongest make it through. You've gotta be smart, fast, and ruthless when you need to be."

Her eyes sparkle like I just told her the world's best secret.

"Sounds like something you're perfect for."

"I try." I let the smirk deepen, holding her gaze just long enough to see her bite her lip. Oh yeah—she's interested.

"Must be hard," she says, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"All that training… no time for fun?"

I lean forward slightly, lowering my voice so it's just for her.

"Who says I don't make time for the things I want?"

Her breath hitches—barely, but I notice. She wants me. And I want her.

---

"Ariana," her mother says suddenly, breaking the tension.

"Why don't you and Astrid go the garden? It's beautiful this time of year. The maid will show you around."

Ariana pouts slightly but then nods.

"Sure, Mom."

She stands, and so does her sister, clutching that sketchbook like a lifeline.

For the first time, Astrid glances at me, and I catch something in her eyes—something sharp, something… different. But then it's gone, and she follows Ariana out without a word.

I noticed the tension between the twins and how the one named Astrid avoided her sister.

The room feels colder without Ariana in it.

My uncle clears his throat.

"Damian, a word in private."

I drag my eyes from the doorway Ariana just walked through.

"Yeah, sure."

We step into his office, and he closes the door behind us.

"You were staring," he says bluntly.

I smirk.

"She's… interesting."

"She's a Stormont." he reminds me.

"Good family. Strong bloodline. But remember—you're not just any wolf, Damian. You're the future, Alpha. You can't afford distractions."

"Who says she's a distraction?" I counter.

"An alliance through marriage would be very good. I heard they owned the gold mines in the pack."

His eyes narrow, studying me like he can see every thought in my head. Finally, he sighs.

"Just don't do anything reckless."

I grin, already thinking of a hundred ways to make Ariana mine.

"When have I ever?"

---

When the Stormonts leave, Ariana gives me one last smile over her shoulder. It's small, teasing, and promising.

And right then, I decided something.

Ariana isn't just going to be a pretty face I met once.

She's going to be mine.

Chapter 4

Astrid's POV.

Sometimes at night, when the house is quiet and Ariana is probably texting a dozen boys who worship the ground, she walks on, I close my eyes and wish for one thing:

A mate.

Someone who will look at me and not see Ariana's less-pretty twin.

Someone who will love me for the way I lose myself in art, who will think my messy hair and paint-stained hands are beautiful. Someone who will make me feel like I'm not… nothing.

Someone who won't see me as the weird red-haired that deserved to be hidden.

Pathetic, right?

Almost eighteen years old and still dreaming like a kid. But dreams are the only thing keeping me sane in this house.

At least they were—until today.

I walk into my room after school, humming softly, only to freeze when I see Ariana sitting on my bed. My bed. With a smug smile stretched across her glossy lips and a stack of papers in her hand.

My heart stops.

No.

She found it.

What I have kept hidden since last week.

My Edom art school application form.

She searched through my room.

"Ariana," I whisper. "Give those back."

She waves the papers in the air like a victory flag.

She was never up to any good.

"Edom School of Art? Wow, Astrid. Really aiming high, aren't you?"

Heat floods my cheeks.

"Give. Them. Back."

She smirks.

"You really think they'd take someone like you? I mean, come on, Astrid. You can barely look people in the eye, and you think you can live in some big art school? Please. How are you going to afford Edom? Do you think father or mother would pay? Silly Astrid."

I lunge for the forms, but she dances out of reach, laughing.

"Oh, Mom and Dad are going to love this."

"Ariana, don't—" My voice cracks. "Please. Don't tell them."

"Oh, sweetheart," she purrs, her eyes glittering with malice. "You should know by now… I love telling them."

She sashays out of my room, and panic slams into me like a punch to the gut.

"Ariana!" I scream, chasing after her, my feet pounding down the stairs.

She was already in the living room, holding up the forms like a trophy.

"Mom! Dad! Look what Astrid's been hiding!"

My parents look up from their conversation, curiosity flickering into shock as Ariana hands them the papers.

"What is this?" Mom snaps.

"It's… nothing," I stammer, reaching for the forms, but Dad snatches them away before I can touch them.

"Nothing? You were planning to apply to an art school? Without telling us?"

"I—I just wanted—"

"You just wanted to embarrass this family?" Mom cuts in, her face twisting in fury. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is?"

"It's not ridiculous!" I shout, surprising even myself. "It's my dream!"

Mom laughs—a cold, bitter sound.

"Dreams don't put food on the table, Astrid. Dreams don't strengthen alliances. You have a duty."

"A duty?" My voice trembles with anger.

So I had a duty now.

After being ignored and treated like shoot for years, suddenly I have a duty?

"What about Ariana? Does she have any duty to this family, or is it just me who has to sacrifice everything?"

"Ariana is precious," Mom snaps without hesitation.

"She's caught the eye of Damian—the Alpha heir. Do you understand what that means? Ariana is special. You…" Her lip curls in disgust.

"You're not beautiful, Astrid. You have nothing. And you probably won't even find your mate, so stop living in a fantasy. Art school? What do you think will come out of it? Who do you expect to pay for that?"

The words hit me like bullets, each one tearing through what little armour I have left. Not beautiful. Nothing. Won't find your mate.

They never believed I would find my mate, and I won't be worth being mated to.

They didn't even believe I could survive without them.

They had no plans for me.

I can barely breathe.

Dad steps forward and rips the forms in half, the sound sharp and final.

"You're not going to that art school. In fact, you're not going anywhere. From now on, you stay home. No more nonsense. School is putting useless ideas in your head. Maybe it's time for you to stop schooling."

"No!" My scream rips from my throat before I can stop it.

"You can't do this!"

"We just did," Mom says coldly. "You'll stay here and learn the books. One day, you'll handle the accounts for the gold mine. That's your place."

"My place?" I whisper, shaking. "You think my place is in a cage while Ariana gets to live her perfect life?!"

Ariana, who's been standing there like the devil in designer jeans, smirks.

"Well, someone has to, right?"

Something inside me snaps.

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm storming up the stairs, ready to lock myself in my room, when I notice something.

My portfolio—the leather folder that holds every sketch I've ever poured my soul into—is gone.

"Ariana," I breathe, ice flooding my veins.

When I whirl around, she's standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding my portfolio like a prize. Smiling.

When did she even take that?

"Give. That. Back."

She tilts her head.

"Or what?"

The rage that explodes inside me is wild and uncontrollable. A growl—an actual growl—rips from my throat, startling even me.

And then I'm flying down the stairs.

"Astrid!" Mom screams, but it's too late.

I slam into Ariana, and we crash to the floor. Her gasp turns into a shriek as my fists pound, my nails claw.

I yank her perfect hair, scratching across her flawless face. She screams again, trying to push me off, but I'm stronger. So much stronger than I ever thought I could be.

"You ruined everything!" I roar, my voice animalistic, foreign.

"Everything!"

"Girls! Stop this!" Dad booms, and suddenly strong arms are dragging me back, hauling me off Ariana. I thrash against him, shaking, my chest heaving, a snarl curling my lips.

Ariana scrambles to her feet, her face streaked with blood and fury, hair a tangled mess. She glares at me like she wants to slay me.

But when I look at Mom, I see something I've never seen before. Fear.

She's afraid of me.

The realization slams into me like ice water. My breathing slows, but my body still trembles violently.

"You…" I point a shaking finger at Ariana. "You're dead to me."

Her eyes widen, but I don't wait for a response. I rip free from Dad's grip, storm up the stairs, and slam my door so hard the walls shake.

Then I collapse onto the floor, tears burning my eyes as sobs tear out of me.

My chest aches, my throat hurts, my hands are raw and bloodstained, but none of it compares to the pain clawing at my heart.

I wanted freedom. I wanted art. I wanted… love.

And now all I want is my mate. Someone to take me away from this heck because the last thing I'll ever do is stay here and rot behind a desk, watching Ariana live the life I can only dream of.

That she will get everything and everyone at her beck and call while I struggle to gain scraps.

I didn't want that life.

I didn't want my life to be here.

Someone, please. Come find me.

Before I lose what's left of myself.

Chapter 5

Astrid's POV.

Three days.

That's all that's left before my eighteenth birthday. Our eighteenth birthday. The day that's supposed to change everything.

I sit cross-legged on my bed, staring at the calendar on my wall. The red circle around Saturday looks almost like it's glowing. My heart pounds every time I look at it. Not because of the cake or the idiot party Mom's probably planning for Ariana, but because of what it means for me.

The first shift.

Everyone says turning eighteen is magical for a wolf. That first shift… it's like being reborn. Stronger. Faster. Powerful. No more being the weak one. No more being invisible.

For the first time in my life, I might matter.

I press my hands together, whispering to the silence of my room.

"Please… let this change something."

I close my eyes and imagine it: fur as red as flames, eyes glowing like stars. Not because I care about being beautiful like Ariana, but because… maybe if I'm strong, Mom and Dad will stop looking at me like I'm a mistake. Maybe they'll see me.

I will find my mate and finally be rid of this family forever.

I won't look back.

The door creaks open without warning. Of course, she doesn't knock.

"What are you doing? Meditating?" Ariana steps in, wearing silk pyjamas that probably cost a fortune. Her hair is in perfect waves even though it's bedtime.

After the Edom incident, I had to reluctantly apologise to my parents, and sadly, Ariana.

As much as I loved to rip her hair out of her scalp, being sp violent and aggressive wasn't my style.

I was so ridden with guilt, and the look of fear in my mother's eyes haunted me.

They were still my parents, and I still lived under their roof.

They tore up my application, which cost me several sketch money to save up, but it is what it is.

When I find my mate, I'm so out of here.

I glare at her.

"Ever heard of knocking?"

She smirks.

"Ever heard of getting a life?"

"Wow," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

"You came all the way in here just to say that? Must've been exhausting."

Ariana flops onto my bed like she owns it, scrolling through her phone.

"Relax, I'm just here to talk. My big day's coming up."

"Our big day," I repeat flatly.

"Right."

"You're not excited?" she asks, eyes still glued to her screen.

"I am," I say carefully.

"Just…" nervous, I guess."

This was the first time she was ever talking to me like a semi normal person.

"Nervous?" Ariana snorts.

"Why? It's going to be amazing. Everyone will finally see how powerful I am." She flips her hair and grins at her reflection in my mirror.

Sratch that... It's totally not normal.

"I'm going to be the prettiest, strongest wolf this pack has ever seen. Damian will lose his mind when he sees me shift. I'm definitely his mate, I can feel it."

Of course, this is about Damian. Everything lately is about Damian.

Damian, Damian, Damian.

That was all Mom and Ari could ever talk about.

She barely knew the Alpha heir, but somehow they were 'perfect' together.

But that day, he looked at her, and I saw the glint in his eyes.

He was just like every other guy in this pack, attracted to her beauty without knowing the evil inside of her.

He was definitely her mate.

"Must be nice," I mumble.

"What?"

"Having everyone already think you're perfect before you've even shifted."

Ariana looks at me then, her brows arching.

"Oh, Astrid. Don't be like that. It's not my fault you—" She stops, smirking.

"Never mind."

"Finish it," I snap.

Her smirk deepens.

"It's not my fault you're… average. Sorry, below average"

The words sting, but I swallow them down. I've had years of practice.

I knew I was below average. They made sure to remind me of that.

I was the other twin, the unattractive one who loved nerdy stuff.

I was never my own person to them.

"Whatever," I say, turning away.

"You've got what you want. Damian, attention, everything. So leave me alone."

They would probably fit.

Two insanely attractive people with stuck-up personalities.

It's definitely a match made by the moon goddess.

She studies me for a moment, then laughs softly.

"You know what? I hope you do get a mate. Maybe then you'll stop being so bitter. Maybe he would even change how you look. Just hope it's not one of the commoners."

And with that, she struts out, leaving the faint smell of her expensive perfume behind.

I curl into myself, gripping the blanket tight, whispering the same prayer I've whispered a hundred times.

"Please… let this change everything."

---

Ariana's POV

Finally.

Finally, after eighteen years of waiting, it's almost here. Our birthday. The night I've dreamed about since I was old enough to understand what being a wolf really means.

I stand in front of my full-length mirror, turning side to side as I hold up a silver dress against my body. Perfect. It's absolutely perfect. The way it catches the light? Damian won't be able to look away.

It suited my hair so perfectly.

Speaking of Damian… I pull out my phone and scroll through our messages. He hasn't texted yet today, but that's fine. He's probably busy with Alpha training. Still, I can't help but imagine his face when he sees me on my birthday—powerful, radiant, everything a Luna should be.

He was definitely my mate, and I couldn't wait to be marked and ravished by him again.

I toss the dress onto my bed and start brushing my hair, humming softly.

I snuck out last night to see Damian, and the way he thrust into me was the best thing I have ever felt in my life.

I couldn't wait to be his forever.

"Ariana!" Mom calls from downstairs.

I grab the brush and head down, finding Mom in the kitchen with a glass of wine in her hand, and that usual sparkle in her eyes whenever she talks about him.

"We need to finalize the guest list," she says.

"This party has to be perfect. The Argents will be there."

I smile, leaning against the counter.

"I've already got the perfect dress."

"Of course you do." Mom beams at me like I hung the moon.

"You're going to take his breath away."

"I plan to," I say, my voice light but full of confidence.

"What about Astrid?" she asks absently.

I shrug.

"What about her?"

"She's… well, she's Astrid. Make sure she doesn't embarrass us."

"Please." I laugh. "She doesn't even talk to anyone. She'll probably hide in a corner with her sketchbook like always."

Mom sighs but waves it off.

"As long as she doesn't cause trouble."

"She won't." I smile sweetly, even though I remember the wild look in her eyes when she attacked me the other time. For a second, the memory sends a shiver down my spine.

But no. Astrid is nothing compared to me. And when Damian sees me, when he claims me as his mate, everyone will finally understand.

I'll be the Luna. The most powerful female in this pack.

And Astrid?

She'll still be the girl in the shadows, buried in goldmine records.

---

Later that night, I passed by her room and heard faint music playing. I peek in and see her hunched over her sketchbook like usual, lost in her little world.

Pathetic.

She looks up, catching me in the doorway.

"What?" she snaps.

She was always smart.

I was jealous of that.

Her senses were far sharper than mine, and she would have been the perfect daughter if she wasn't so unattractive with a idiot pair of unattractive buns glasses.

I smile sweetly.

"Just checking to see if you're still breathing."

"Unfortunately for you, I am."

Her tone is sharp, and for a moment, I see something fierce in her eyes—something that almost makes me pause. Almost.

"Goodnight, Astrid," I say lightly, shutting the door.

She doesn't answer.

---

As I crawl into bed, I scroll through my phone one last time. Still no text from Damian, but that's okay. In three days, he'll see me shift, and then…

Then, everything I've ever wanted will be mine.