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Ten Years Earlier

The first time I accidentally blew up a tree, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. But by the fourth explosion, the whispers started: witch, freak, time bomb . And now, as I stand in the middle of the pack’s training grounds with magic still buzzing around my fingertips, I’m pretty sure they’re about to add banished to the list.

Witches aren’t exactly beloved by shifters. Centuries-old grudges run deep, tangled in wars and betrayals no one alive even remembers, but everyone insists on hating each other for, anyway.

The only reason I’m even here is because of my mother, a shifter who made the mistake of falling for a warlock. She died bringing me into this world, and the pack only let me stay because of her legacy. My father? He bolted the moment he found out my mom was pregnant, taking his magic and any chance I had at guidance with him.

So here I am, figuring this witch thing out on my own while the pack watches, waiting for me to fail. And if today’s any indication, they won’t have to wait much longer.

“You’re a menace, Jaslyn,” Madison, one of the she-wolves a year above me, sneers at me over her shoulder. “Why don’t you just go back to whatever hole you crawled out of before you kill someone?”

I clench my fists and force myself to look at the dirt instead of her smug face. She’s not worth it. None of them are. But the laughter that comes over the group burns more than the magic searing under my skin. It’s frenzied, untamed, and desperate to lash out. If I had any idea how to control it, maybe I could show them all exactly what I’m capable of. Instead, I’m stuck here, a disaster waiting to happen.

“Enough.”

Gray’s voice cuts through the mockery, and I swear even the wind stops moving. He steps out from the edge of the field, and his broad shoulders and sapphire-blue eyes command attention like nothing I’ve ever seen. The rest of the pack straightens instinctively as his presence smothers their jeering.

Gray Reed. Alpha of the Red Arrow Pack. He’s young for an alpha—too young. At nineteen, he’s only two years older than me, and already the man is carrying the weight of the pack on his shoulders after his father’s sudden death.

He shouldn’t even be here—he’s got way more important things to deal with than me accidentally setting someone’s hair on fire again. But here he is, walking toward me with that breezy confidence that makes my chest tighten and my stomach twist from just one look.

“Back to training,” he barks at the others. “Now.”

Madison shoots me one last glare before slinking away with the rest of them, and I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding. The tension in my shoulders fades with the pack’s departure, and within seconds, it’s just Gray and me standing in the wreckage of my latest magical misfire.

“Jaslyn, what happened?” His voice is softer now, but it still makes my spine straighten.

I don’t want to meet his eyes, but I do, anyway, because it’s impossible not to when he looks at me like that. Like I’m not a total disaster. Like I’m not one wrong move away from burning this whole place to the ground.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” I stammer. “It just… happened. Again.”

Gray sighs and scrubs a hand through his blond hair. The sunlight catches on the strands, making him look even more untouchable than usual. He’s too perfect for this place, too perfect for me. And yet, here he is, standing in front of me like he actually cares about what I have to say.

“You’ve got to get a handle on this, Jaslyn. It’s dangerous. Not just for you, but for everyone.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” The words come out sharper than I mean them to, but I don’t care. I’m tired of being treated like some kind of ticking time bomb, even if that’s exactly what I am. “Do you think I want to lose control? Do you think I like being the freak everyone’s afraid of?”

The muscle in Gray’s jaw ticks, and for a second, I think he’s going to snap back. But then he surprises me by inching closer, and his gaze softens in a way that makes my breath hitch.

“You’re not a freak. You’re just… different. And different doesn’t have to be a bad thing. In fact, it’s often an asset.”

I want to believe him. I really do. But it’s hard to believe anything good about myself when the pack looks at me like I’m a disease. Even now, with Gray standing so close that I can feel his body heat, all I can think about is how much better off everyone would be if I just disappeared.

“Tell that to Madison and the rest of the pack,” I mutter, kicking at a clump of dirt. “Especially Carter. He’d throw a party if I was gone.”

Gray sighs again, but this time, it’s more of a frustrated huff. “Carter’s a jerk.”

That startles me, and I snap my head up to look at him. “But he’s Beta.”

“Exactly. He shouldn’t act like a damn bully. The only reason he’s beta is because his father was beta before him. The pack will come around once they see what you’re capable of.”

“And what if they don’t?”

His answer is immediate and firm. “Then they’ll answer to me.”

Something in the way he says it sends a shiver needling down my spine—not fear, but something else. Something warm and unfamiliar. It’s the way his eyes hold mine, like he’s pleading with me to believe him. And for a moment, I almost do.

“Come on,” he says, breaking the silence. “Let’s get you out of here before someone else decides to make your day worse.”

I follow him without a word, and my heart is pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with magic. Gray walks with the kind of confidence that only an alpha can pull off. Every step radiates authority. He was born for this role, even if it was thrust on him too soon. But there’s a gentleness to him, too, a quiet strength that makes me feel safer than I probably should.

As we head toward the edge of the training grounds, I catch sight of Madison and her group watching us from a distance. Their whispers are like knives darting through the air. I don’t need to hear the words to know what they’re saying. Look at her, following him around like a lost puppy. She doesn’t deserve his attention. She doesn’t deserve anything.

I clench my fists and keep my head down, willing myself not to react. Not now. Not with Gray right here. But then he glances over his shoulder and sees them, too, and something flashes in his eyes. Something dark and dangerous.

“Is there a problem?” he calls out, his voice carrying across the field like a crack of thunder.

Madison freezes, and her smirk falters for the first time all day. “N-no, Alpha,” she stammers as her cheeks flush red. “No problem at all.”

“Good.” Gray’s tone leaves no room for additional commentary. Madison quickly turns away, and her friends scatter like leaves in the wind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her move so fast.

When Gray turns back to me, there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe. “See? Not everyone gets away with treating you like crap.”

I want to thank him, to tell him how much it means to me that he stood up for me. But the words stick in my throat, tangled up with everything else I wish I could say. Instead, I settle for a small, hesitant smile, hoping it’s enough.

“Come on,” he says again. “Let’s go. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

As I follow him back toward the packhouse, I can’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like if things were different. If I wasn’t a mess of uncontrollable magic. If I was someone worth standing beside him. But deep down, I know it’s a fantasy. Gray Reed deserves someone strong, someone capable. Someone who isn’t me. And yet, I can’t stop the tiny flicker of hope that sparks to life in my chest every time he looks at me like I’m not a lost cause. Like maybe I’m worth saving.

We don’t even make it halfway to the packhouse before Gray gets intercepted. It’s a patrol guard, panting and waving his arms like the sky is about to fall.

“Alpha, there’s a situation,” the guy states. “It’s the eastern border. We’ve got—well, we think it’s rogue activity, but there’s something weird about—”

Gray raises a hand, cutting him off mid-ramble. “I’m on it,” he declares before he turns to me. “Go on ahead, Jaslyn. We’ll talk later.”

And just like that, he’s gone, striding away with the kind of purpose that makes me feel small in comparison. Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just that he’s Gray. Steady, dependable, untouchable. And me? I’m a walking disaster. A problem he’s obligated to deal with because I happened to be born to one of his packmates.

I’m still standing there, watching him go, when I hear the first snicker.

“Well, well. Look who’s still panting after the alpha like a lost puppy.”

I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Carter, our new beta, who took his position when Gray took over as alpha. His voice is like nails on a chalkboard—grating and smug, with just enough volume to make sure everyone in earshot hears him.

“Buzz off, Carter,” I mutter, quickening my pace. I don’t have the energy for this today. Or any day, really.

But of course, he follows. “Everyone sees it, you know. The way you moon over him like he’s the sun and you’re some pathetic little flower desperate for light.”

Sparks start at my fingertips as my magic hums under my skin on its own accord. I convince myself to keep walking, counting every step like it’s the only thing tethering me to sanity. One step. Two steps. Don’t look back.

“Even if he did notice you, what good would it do? You’re a witch. A broken, half-blood freak with no control. He’d never choose someone like you.”

I stop. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. The words slam into me so hard, I nearly topple forward, cracking through the fragile armor I’ve built around myself. I spin on my heel, glaring at him with all the fury I can muster.

“Say that again,” I challenge. My voice is low and shaking with barely contained magic.

Carter’s mouth curls into a malicious grin, and I realize too late that this is exactly what he wanted. “Oh, did I strike a nerve? Poor little Jaslyn. Always so sensitive. Face it—you don’t belong here. You never have.”

The magic rushes out before I can stop it. It strikes between us like a bolt of lightning, singeing the ground. Carter steps back, just a fraction, but the sneer on his face doesn’t break. If anything, he looks pleased.

“Go ahead,” he taunts. “Show everyone how dangerous you really are. Prove that you’re exactly what they say you are—a threat.”

I want to stop. I want to pull the magic back, to stuff it down where it can’t hurt anyone. But it’s too late. It’s already slipping through my fingers like a vicious, chaotic storm I can’t control. And Carter—stupid, arrogant Carter—doesn’t even flinch. He just stands there, smirking like he’s untouchable.

It happens so fast, I barely register it. A burst of light, white-hot with shades of blue. It snaps out like a whip, curling around him and closing like a vice. And then Carter is on the ground, unmoving.

The world seems to stop. For a moment, I think—hope—that he’s just unconscious. That maybe I only stunned him. But then someone screams, and the sound splits the silence.

“He’s dead,” someone whispers, and the words echo in my head, over and over again. Dead. Dead. Dead.

I stagger back, and my heart pounds so hard I think it might burst. This isn’t real. It can’t be real. But Carter’s lifeless body is right there, a grim and undeniable reminder of what I’ve done.

The crowd closes in with a mix of shocked faces and accusatory stares. I don’t even try to defend myself. What could I possibly say? That it was an accident? That he provoked me? It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. All they’ll see is the witch who killed the pack beta.

But then, when I take a closer look, I’m surprised by what I see. Not anger. Not fear. For some of them, it’s almost…relief. Whispers run through the group, too low for me to catch every word, but enough filters through.

“Finally.”

“About time someone shut him up.”

“He had it coming.”

The comments break through the haze of my panic for a heartbeat. They hated him. I’ve known it for years—the quiet complaints behind his back, the resentment festering just below the surface—but I never imagined it would be this blatant.

But then there are the others. The ones who glare at me, who don’t see a bully lying in the dirt but a Beta. A leader. Someone who, by tradition and rank, was supposed to be untouchable. And now, all they’ll see is the witch who broke that unspoken rule.

“Jaslyn.” I whip around to see Gray standing at the edge of the crowd, his face hard as stone. There’s not one ounce of relief in his expression. Instead, he’s looking at me just like like I’m a dangerous freak. And it eats me alive. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t mean to.” The words tumble out in a desperate rush. “I-I lost control. It was an accident, Gray. You have to believe me.”

But he doesn’t answer. He just stares at me. The warmth I’ve always seen in those blue eyes is gone, replaced by something that feels like fear.

“Everyone, clear out,” he commands.

The crowd obeys without question, leaving just the two of us standing in the aftermath of my mistake.

When he speaks again, his voice is low and even, but there’s an edge to it that makes my stomach twist. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

I nod, and tears burn at the corners of my eyes. Of course I know. I’ve always known that this is how it would end. But hearing it from him—hearing the finality in his voice—it breaks something inside me.

“I have to protect the pack,” he says, like it’s some kind of explanation. Like it’s supposed to make any of this okay. “Carter was a bully. And maybe he deserved a good punch in the face. But this?” He gestures to the body on the ground. “This is something no one can excuse. Not even me. If the other packs find out about this… if they find out about you…”

“I get it,” I cut him off. “You don’t have to explain. Just… do what you have to do.”

His jaw flexes, and for a moment, I think he might say something else. But then he just nods. “You’re banished, Jaslyn. Effective immediately.”

The words hit me like a blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I want to scream, to beg him to reconsider, but I don’t. I won’t give him or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Instead, I lift my chin and meet his gaze, even as tears blur my vision. “I hope it’s worth it,” I say, my voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “Losing me. Losing everything I could have given to this pack.”

He flinches, just barely, but it’s enough to give me a small, bitter sense of satisfaction. Without another word, I turn and walk away, leaving him—and everything else—behind.