“Shift, Jean!”

That order snapped through the training yard like a stick across knuckles. Every wolf’s eyes were glued to her, waiting for a spectacle, except Jean wasn’t about to give them one. She stood rooted in the dirt, shaking, bones screaming, her wolf barely a whisper in her chest. Nada. No shift. Just humiliation.

A ripple of snickers slithered through the crowd.

“Pathetic.”

“Bet her wolf’s just a bedtime story.”

“Maybe the Goddess botched her at birth.”

Jean’s fists clenched, cheeks burning so hot she could’ve sworn steam might billow out her ears. She tried again, straining so hard her teeth ached. Still nothing.

Rowan spat at the ground, disgust oozing from every word. “Enough. You’ll never be more than dead weight. Go fetch water. Maybe then you’ll actually do something useful.”

Laughter exploded, echoing off the stone like cruel little fireworks.

“Don’t drop it, water girl!”

“Careful, she’ll trip and drown herself!”

Jean turned, swallowing a jagged lump. If she opened her mouth, she knew she’d just fall apart.

On her way out, a she-wolf with a mean smirk leaned in. “Honestly, Jean, maybe you should’ve been born human. At least then your weakness would make sense.”

Jean’s wolf whimpered, but she kept walking, head down, like she couldn’t even hear them.

In the kitchens, she gripped a wooden jug so tight you’d think she was trying to snap it in half. At least nobody could see her hands shaking here. Then Maren slipped in behind her, quiet as a shadow.

“You okay?” Maren’s voice was soft, too understanding.

Jean forced a crooked smile. “I’m used to it.”

Maren scowled, arms folded. “Doesn’t make it okay. They treat you worse than they treat rogues. You should say something.”

“To whom?” Jean let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “The Alpha? Rowan? The same wolves who call me worthless every day? They’d just come up with new names.”

Maren hesitated, glancing around, dropping her voice. “You’ve been distracted lately. Sneaking off at night. Spill, Jean. What are you hiding?”

Jean froze. “Nothing.”

Maren smirked, one brow arched. “Sure. Nothing? Or… someone?”

Heat flared in Jean’s cheeks. “Doesn’t matter. It’s… impossible.”

Maren sidled in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. Tell me.”

Jean hesitated, then whispered, “Michael.”

Maren’s eyes went wide. “Michael? As in, Shadowfang’s Alpha?”

Jean’s lips pressed shut, but Maren looked like she’d been slapped. “Jean, are you serious? He’s our rival! He’s dangerous! He’s…”

“He’s kind,” Jean interrupted, voice trembling. “I saw him once at the border. There was a fight. He stopped it before anyone got hurt. He looked at everyone like they actually mattered. Even me.” Her voice softened, almost dreamy. “No one’s ever looked at me like that.”

Maren groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh goddess. Jean, he’s an Alpha! And you’re… You know.”

Jean finished it, voice flat and hollow. “The disgrace.”

Silence.

Maren just sighed, defeated. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

That night, the Moonveil wolves crowded the firepit, faces flickering orange and gold. The Alpha raised his hand, and every mouth snapped shut.

“The Blood Moon Festival’s upon us,” he said, voice booming. “We will stand with Shadowfang. Any weakness will shame us all.” His gaze sliced to Jean, sharp as a blade. “Don’t embarrass us, girl.”

Snickers again.

Jean stared at her boots, heart pounding.

Maren nudged her, whispering, “You’ll see him there, right?”

Jean swallowed. “If I’m lucky… or cursed.”

The crowd broke apart, everyone drifting off. Jean tried to slip away, but Rowan’s voice caught her.

“Hey. When Shadowfang arrives, stay at the back. Hide if you have to. Goddess forbid Michael Vale sees what kind of trash we keep around here.”

Jean’s stomach dropped. “Yes, Beta.”

He sneered. “Good girl. Don’t trip.”

More laughter, sharp as broken glass.

When they were alone, Maren grabbed Jean’s arm. “Why do you let them talk to you like that?”

Jean’s voice came out small. “Because I’m weak. And if I fight back, I’ll just give them another reason to hate me.”

Maren stared at her. “And Michael?”

Jean’s lips parted, then she looked away. “Michael doesn’t even know I exist.”

But deep down, she remembered that day, the way his eyes swept the border just a flicker, maybe but it felt like he’d actually seen her.

It was probably nothing. Just a scrap of hope. Still, it was something.

Later, Jean crept out to the ridge, the moon hanging fat and silver, shadows striping the grass. She hugged her knees, wolf stirring inside her like a half-remembered song.

Why him? Why an Alpha who’ll never look your way?

Jean whispered, “Because he makes me feel like I’m not invisible.”

Her wolf just sighed and faded, leaving her alone with the night.

Behind her footsteps. She spun, heart rabbit-fast, but it was just Maren.

“There you go again, moon-gazing, talking to yourself,” Maren said, dropping down beside her.

Jean shrugged, cheeks burning. “It’s quiet up here.”

Maren nudged her. “Tomorrow, Shadowfang arrives. Think you’ll see him?”

Jean hesitated, voice barely there. “I dream about it.”

“And if he looks at you?”

Jean’s heart thudded. “Maybe… maybe I’ll feel like I’m not nothing.”

Maren shook her head. “You’re just asking for heartbreak.”

Jean’s gaze stuck to the moon, her voice thin and breaking. “My heart’s already cracked. What’s one more break?”

The next morning came in blazing sun slicing through the trees, air just buzzing with nerves. The whole pack was a beehive, everybody darting around, tents popping up, gifts piling high, and wolves fussing with their fanciest fur like it actually mattered.

Jean tried to fade into the background, but that was a joke. Every time she blinked, someone stuck a new job in her hands.

“Go fetch the cloaks.”

“Jean, the Alpha’s boots aren’t gonna polish themselves.”

“Seriously, just stay where nobody’ll notice you, all right?”

By midday, she was a sweaty mess, fingers aching, back damp, heart hammering so hard she was surprised nobody heard it.

And then someone hissed, “They’re here.”