Recommended Warning: This novel depicts graphic deaths.
Ten Years Ago
The smell of burning flesh mixed with so many other scents that it was hard to place them all. But the sizzling flesh was the worst. Kira's heart hammered against her chest as she crept toward the door, a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea threatening to pull her under. She gripped the handle, opening it to reveal a dark hallway. Orange and amber light flickered in the distance as thick smoke billowed up from the steps.
The screams reverberating through the house were horrific.
Coughing violently, her small feet hurried forward. A sudden whoosh of air preceded another agonizing shriek. Reaching the bottom step, she ran as fast as her legs could manage. Her heart clenched. Flames licked up the open door frame of her childhood home. Through the gap, she could see a neighborhood in ruins—burning houses illuminating the chaos outside.
Bodies of charred wolves, in both lupine and human form, littered the ground. Some bore clean gunshot wounds to the head. As more screams echoed from the blazing structures, a horrific realization hit her: people were still trapped alive inside.
"Momma?" she called out, turning away from the exit and sprinting deeper into the house.
In the next room, a strange man stood over her mother, forcing her down onto her knees. Before Kira could shout, a hand slapped tightly over her mouth. It was Adam, her older brother. Their mother never looked toward them, keeping her eyes fixed ahead as the man pulled the trigger. The sheer force of the gunshot threw her body backward. Kira cried out, the sound muffled against Adam's chest as he scooped her up into his arms and sprinted out the door.
The night became a blur of chaotic noise—indistinct shouting, dogs barking, and the rustling of bushes under heavy footsteps. The lethal cracks of guns and the sharp whistle of arrows followed them, accompanied by screams that never seemed to fade, no matter how far they ran. But the image of her mother on her knees remained frozen in Kira's mind.
Heavy footsteps gained on them. Someone was running fast behind Adam.
"Adam, behind you!" Kira cried.
Adam didn't turn around. He just kept sprinting, pushing deeper into the Chihuahuan desert. "Kira, I want you to run and never stop running when I ask you to," his voice broke slightly, though he kept his pace steady. "Don't look back. Just keep running as far as you can. We all love you. And remember—an Alpha never stops fighting."
He abruptly set her down on her feet and pressed a hasty, soft kiss to her head. "I love you, Kira. Run... run and don't ever look back."
Adam turned around to bait himself, stepping directly into the path of their pursuers who were right on their heels. Sobbing and blinded by tears, Kira ran as fast as her mini legs could carry her, her escape permanently haunted by the agonizing sound of her brother being shot to death in the dark.
Present
Breathing heavily, Kira shot straight up in bed. The distant, peaceful sound of birds chirping made her let out a ragged sigh. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.
Kira had turned sixteen not long ago, but age did nothing to dull the devastating memories of her past. The eradication of her entire family and pack, their agonizing screams, and their desperate pleas for help still replayed nightly. It was a nightmare she had endured every day for ten years. In the wreckage of those events, Kira had lost herself, left entirely at the mercy of her internal demons.
For a decade, she had lived out in the desert. Even though she now went to school and worked a part-time job in El Paso, she couldn't bring herself to call the city home. She had forgotten how to live among her own kind, let alone other supernatural beings or humans. She could blend in enough to survive school and work, but even that felt like an exhausting performance. Her nature was as wild as the desert wolves who had taken her in and become the only real family she knew.
With a heavy sigh, she forced her thoughts together. She was still trying to get used to being enclosed in a building after weeks of living in an apartment. None of this felt natural to her yet—especially the indoor plumbing. A constant edge of claustrophobia pressed against her inside the small rooms, but the living arrangement was a necessary evil for now.
Heading into the bathroom, she took a quick shower and changed into a plain black T-shirt with "Alli's Cafe" embroidered on the left corner. She pulled on a pair of light blue jeans and slipped into black, non-slip shoes. After taming her wild brown curls into a tight bun, she headed out.
Before long, Kira walked into the small sky-blue cafe sitting on the corner of the block. The building looked small from the outside under its gray signboard, but the interior was surprisingly spacious. Smooth marble flooring stretched across the room, dotted with at least twenty neatly arranged oak tables. Front and center sat a long counter where patrons usually drank their coffee. The bar section held only five seats, and though it served no alcohol, everyone called it the bar nonetheless. To the left behind the counter sat the coffee and pastry stations, right next to a revolving door leading to the kitchen.
Kira took a breath and pushed the door open. As the bell above chimed, every eye in the room shifted to her.
"Good of you to join us, Kira," Celina said, shooting her a pointed look.
Biting back a low growl, Kira kept her eyes lowered. "Sorry, Celina," she muttered, forcing her rising temper back under control.
"Get clocked in and help table five."
Wasting no time, Kira moved across the floor. Sitting at table five was a male roughly her own age. His hazel eyes locked onto her as she approached, an unfamiliar expression crossing his face. A sudden wave of goosebumps broke out across Kira's skin; if she had to guess, she was looking at pure disgust.
It took every ounce of her willpower to resist the sudden urge to grab the fork on the table and drive it into his eye. From this boy radiated a sickening, distinct scent that she loathed down to her very bones.
Forcing the violent image away, she pulled out her pad. "Welcome to Alli's Cafe, how can I help you?" she greeted plainly.
Her eyes shifted from the arrogant teenager across the booth to the older man sitting opposite him. The resemblance was uncanny—like looking twenty years into the boy's future. Where the teenager had short, jet-black hair, the older man's hair was heavily peppered with gray, his tanned complexion lined with subtle wrinkles. Two pairs of identical hazel eyes stared back at her.
Kira instantly got the distinct, uncomfortable feeling that she had just interrupted something incredibly private and important.
"What would you like, Ryan?" the older male asked.
Kira shifted her gaze to the teenager, pen poised over her pad, waiting for his response.