Maya Pov

The locker slams into my spine before I can brace for it. Metal digs into my shoulder blades. My books scatter across the hallway floor like dead birds.

I don't make a sound. Learned that lesson in sixth grade.

"Watch where you're going, freak." Brittany's voice drips with fake sweetness. Her perfume chokes the air between us—expensive, overwhelming, meant to announce her presence before she even arrives.

I slide down the locker until I'm sitting on the cold tile. Students flow around me like water around a rock. Nobody stops. Nobody looks. This is normal. This is every single day.

My name is Maya Rivers. I'm fifteen years old. My father is Beta of the Crescent Moon Pack, which should mean something. My brother Lucas will take that title when he graduates next year. I should matter.

I don't.

"Brittany, we're going to be late." That's Ashlyn, Brittany's shadow. Shorter, quieter, just as mean when she thinks no one's watching.

"Let her pick up her stuff. She's good at being on the floor." Brittany's heel catches the edge of my chemistry textbook, sending it skidding toward the water fountain. Laughter follows it.

I count to ten in my head. Nina, my wolf, growls low in my mind. She wants to fight. She always wants to fight. But we can't. Not here. Not where people can see.

They're weak, Nina snarls. We could take all three of them before they even shifted.

That's not the point.

Then what is?

I don't have an answer for her. Not one that makes sense anymore.

The hallway empties as the warning bell rings. I'm alone with my scattered books and my aching back. This locker has left bruises on bruises. I know exactly which spot will turn purple by tomorrow.

I gather my things slowly. Chemistry, English, History, Math. The homework I spent three hours on last night is crumpled, torn at the corner where Brittany's designer bag caught it. Mrs. Peterson won't care. She never cares.

"You okay down there?"

I freeze. Nobody asks if I'm okay. Nobody talks to me except to tell me I'm in the way.

I look up.

She's tall—really tall—with dark brown hair pulled into a high ponytail and eyes the color of honey in sunlight. She's wearing workout clothes like she just came from training, which means she's new. Anyone who's been here more than a week knows better than to acknowledge me in public.

"I'm fine." I grab the last book and stand up too fast. My head spins a little. Skipped breakfast again. Dad didn't leave anything out before he left for border patrol, and Lucas ate the rest of the eggs without saving me any.

The girl doesn't move. She just watches me with this intense expression, like she's trying to solve a puzzle.

"You're bleeding." She points at my elbow.

I glance down. A thin line of blood runs from my elbow to my wrist where I scraped the locker. It's nothing. It'll heal in an hour, maybe less. Nina's already working on it.

"I'm fine," I repeat. "You should get to class. First period starts in two minutes."

"I don't know where my first period is. Just got my schedule." She pulls a paper from her pocket, and I see it's wrinkled, like she's been carrying it around for a while. "Room 214. English with Mr. Harmon."

That's my class.

Of course it is.

"Follow me." I start walking before she can say anything else. Before anyone can see us together. Before Brittany comes back and adds this new girl to her list of targets.

The girl keeps pace beside me easily. Her legs are longer than mine, and I'm practically jogging to stay ahead.

"I'm Jade," she says. "Jade Martinez. My aunt and uncle live in the pack. I'm staying with them for a while."

I don't answer. Don't ask why. Don't make conversation. Making friends isn't worth what comes after.

"And you are?"

We round the corner to the English hallway. Room 214 is at the end, door still open.

"Maya," I finally say. "Just Maya."

"Just Maya," she repeats, like she's testing how it sounds. "Thanks for showing me the way."

I slip into the classroom and head straight for my seat in the back corner by the window. It's the perfect spot—far from the teacher's desk, half-hidden by the filing cabinet, easy to disappear into.

Jade doesn't take the hint. She walks right past the empty seats near the front, past the middle rows where the normal kids sit, and drops into the desk next to mine.

"This seat taken?"

Yes. By nobody, which is how I like it.

"No," I hear myself say.

Mr. Harmon walks in carrying his usual coffee mug and stack of papers. He's young for a teacher, maybe thirty, and actually likes his job, which makes him weird. Most pack teachers are just warriors who got injured and needed something to do.

"Morning, class. Pop quiz on chapters three through five. Books away, pencils out."

The room fills with groans. I pull out my pencil and wait for the papers to reach the back. I read those chapters twice last night because I had nothing else to do. Dad locked himself in his office after dinner. Lucas went out with Finn and Felix, the Alpha twins. The house was quiet except for the sound of my own breathing.

The quiz reaches me. Ten questions, all multiple choice. Easy.

I'm done in four minutes.

Jade finishes a minute later. She catches my eye and grins, like we just shared a secret.

I look away fast.

The rest of the period crawls by. Mr. Harmon lectures about symbolism in some book I already finished. Jade takes notes, her handwriting neat and even. I stare out the window at the training grounds in the distance. I can see tiny figures running drills, hear the faint sounds of combat.

I'll be there tomorrow at five in the morning like always. Commander Drake expects everyone at dawn training, but I show up an hour early. It's the only time the equipment is free, the only time I can practice without people watching.

The bell rings. I'm out of my seat before it finishes, books already packed, bag over my shoulder.

"Hey, wait up!"