Fated to a Human

Chapter 7

Nathan was just about to say something.

He didn’t even know what it would’ve been—Hey, maybe. What’s your favorite movie? Something dumb just to keep her talking, to hear that voice again and feel that weird calm, electric hum that came with it.

But of course, that’s when disaster struck.

Skylar.

She waltzed into the cafeteria like she owned the damn place, all legs and blonde extensions, wearing a blouse that looked one gust of wind away from a wardrobe malfunction. Her stilettos clicked against the floor like gunshots. Half the room turned to look—mostly guys, some girls, and Peter, who rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

Without so much as a warning, Skylar plopped herself right down in Nathan’s lap like she’d done it a thousand times.

Because she had.

“Nateee,” she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck, nails tapping gently against his collarbone. “You still not coming to the bonfire tonight?”

Nathan froze.

Peter made a noise that sounded like a dying squirrel. Rory blinked, then turned slowly back to her tray, clearly trying to decide whether she should be annoyed, amused, or just disgusted.

Skylar didn’t notice—because Skylar never noticed anyone that wasn’t a mirror.

“Come on,” she whispered, trailing a finger down Nathan’s chest. “It won’t be the same without you. Everyone’s going. And if you come…” She leaned in closer and unfastened the top button of her blouse, letting it fall just enough to show off her very expensive bra. “I’ll give you something special.”

Peter coughed loud and dramatic. “Oh my God. Are you actually serious right now?”

Skylar ignored him, focusing on Nathan like she was the only person that existed in the room. Normally? Nathan wouldn’t have cared. Hell, he’d usually have smirked and kissed her just to make Peter gag.

But today?

He glanced at Rory.

She was staring right at him—one perfectly arched eyebrow raised, and a face that screamed: Wow. This guy. Such a tool.

Nathan’s stomach twisted.

Suddenly, he cared. A lot.

He cleared his throat and shifted his legs, forcing Skylar to slide off his lap and back onto the bench.

“I don’t know,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I’ll think about it.”

Skylar blinked, clearly not used to being turned down in public. “Seriously?”

Nathan just shrugged.

She scoffed, then turned her attention to Rory like a vulture noticing another predator circling her kill. Her eyes narrowed, lips twitching with passive-aggressive sweetness.

“Fine. We’ll talk later, baby.”

And just like that, she leaned in and kissed Nathan’s cheek—not his lips, but close enough—and did it while staring right at Rory, like it was a power move in a chess game neither of them had agreed to play.

Then she stood and walked away, hips swaying, blouse still provocatively open.

Rory didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at Nathan, lips curled into a smirk and brow furrowed like she was analyzing a complicated math problem.

Then: “Girlfriend?”

Nathan shook his head, still feeling the residual heat on his cheek. “We broke up.”

Rory scoffed. “Well, looks like she didn’t get the memo.”

Peter snorted. “It’s complicated.”

Rory made a face, half nodding, then went back to eating like none of this fazed her—which somehow made it worse. Nathan sat there, shoulders tense, feeling embarrassed for the first time in forever.

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Skylar acted like she still owned him. Maybe because Rory was here to see it.

Or maybe… because for the first time, Nathan didn’t want to be seen like that.

He wanted to be… better. Different.

He didn’t want Rory to see him as some player or pretty boy with no brain cells behind the abs.

He wanted her to see him.

Peter broke the silence with his usual flair. “Sooo, Rory. You should totally come to the bonfire tonight.”

She looked up, chewing thoughtfully.

Peter grinned. “We do it every Friday. Out at Ocean Point Beach. Big fire, loud music, lots of booze, some questionable weed, and plenty of hot guys—or girls, if that’s your thing. Clearly I’m not one to judge.”

Rory smirked. “Sounds chaotic.”

“Oh, it is. We love chaos.”

Rory chuckled, her voice low and amused. “I’ll think about it.”

And just like that, the tension dissolved—at least for a moment.

Nathan watched her, heart still thudding. He didn’t say anything else.

But in his head?

He was praying she’d show up tonight.

Because for the first time in a long time…

He wanted to be seen.

---

For once, Nathan Grey didn’t have it all together.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror in Peter’s guest house bedroom, holding up shirt after shirt like he was preparing for a runway show instead of a beach bonfire.

His closet wasn’t massive, but it was filled with the usual arsenal of cool-guy confidence: vintage band tees, fitted hoodies, flannel shirts that looked artfully “accidental,” and more jeans than any one person should own.

But tonight?

None of it felt right.

He threw a dark gray tee on the bed. Too basic. A white tank—too thirsty. That navy-blue Henley Peter swore made his arms look godly? Too try-hard. He even considered one of his old football jerseys before muttering to himself, “Okay, dude, you’re spiraling.”

And he was.

For the first time in his life, Nathan Grey was nervous.

Because tonight, there was a chance Rory Rodriguez might show up. And if she did… he wanted her to see him as more than just the cocky football captain with a pretty face and a dramatic ex-girlfriend.

But what if she didn’t?

The thought hit him harder than it should’ve. His wolf stirred in his chest, pacing, itching beneath his skin like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He could feel it—the beast inside—restless, alert, watching.

What if she comes?

What if she doesn’t?

His mind flipped between the two thoughts like a coin tossed in the air.

He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to the bed where half his wardrobe was now scattered across the mattress. “This is stupid,” he muttered.

But it wasn’t.

This wasn’t just another party. This wasn’t another hookup or another night to be admired and adored by the crowd.

This was different.

She was different.

And his wolf knew it too. He could feel it—the slow, steady hum under his skin, the primal pull in his chest every time he thought about her voice, her laugh, her eyes. The way she didn’t try to impress anyone. The way she didn’t fall at his feet like everyone else.

She didn’t even like him… which made him want her more.

After another five minutes of silent war with his reflection, he finally settled on something simple: a fitted black T-shirt that hugged his chest just enough to look good without screaming look at me, and a pair of tan shorts that made him look casually beach-ready without trying too hard.

No cologne. Just deodorant and the faintest whiff of his clean skin.

He looked down at himself and nodded, jaw tight. “Alright. That’s the move.”

He grabbed his keys and phone, glanced once more in the mirror, and then hesitated.

That flicker of doubt returned like a whisper in the back of his mind.

What if she doesn’t come?

But then his wolf growled softly inside, a low rumble of instinct and certainty.

She’d come.

She had to.

And if she did… Nathan was going to make damn sure tonight wasn’t just another forgettable bonfire.

It was going to be the start of something.

Even if he didn’t quite understand what yet.

The sky had shifted into a deep velvet blue by the time Nathan parked his car at the edge of the beach. The sun had dipped below the Pacific, leaving streaks of orange and gold across the horizon. The air was warm, filled with the scent of sea salt, burning wood, and cheap beer.

The bonfire was already roaring—flames licking high into the night air, casting long shadows across the sand. Music thumped from a speaker someone had hooked up to a generator, and half the senior class was already there—laughing, drinking, dancing, hooking up in the darker corners behind the rocks and dunes.

Nathan stepped onto the sand, barefoot, his shoes dangling from his fingers. He took a deep breath and scanned the crowd.

Skylar was already here—of course she was—wearing a skimpy red bikini top with denim shorts and doing shots off some guy’s stomach. She looked over, spotted Nathan, and immediately started toward him.

He turned away fast, blending into a group of guys from the football team.

But his focus wasn’t on them.

Not tonight.

His eyes scanned the crowd, over heads and around the firelight.

No Rory.

His stomach twisted in a way that annoyed him. He told himself not to care, but of course he did.

Peter showed up a few minutes later, wearing a colorful oversized tank and a bucket hat he absolutely could not pull off—but somehow did anyway. He handed Nathan a red solo cup. “You look like you’re about to throw up. Drink. Chill.”

Nathan took a sip. Beer. Of course. But it didn’t help.

“She’s not coming,” he muttered.

Peter glanced around casually, then leaned in. “You’ve been here ten minutes. Breathe, wolf-boy.”

Nathan huffed and kicked at the sand. His wolf was pacing inside him, ears perked, tail swaying, alert. That primal instinct again. Looking. Searching. Waiting.

He hadn’t felt this tightly wound in years. Not during games. Not during full moons. Not even during his first shift.

Then, just as he was about to give up—he saw her.

Coming down the wooden steps from the parking lot. Slowly. Casually. Like she didn’t even realize every part of him had just lit up at the sight of her.

Rory Rodriguez.

She wore black ripped shorts and a cropped black hoodie with sleeves pushed up her arms. Her dark hair was down, loose around her shoulders. Her lips were glossed, but not too much. Her eyes looked brighter in the firelight.

And god, she was gorgeous.

Not in the “every guy wants her” kind of way like Skylar. No—Rory was something else. Something real.

His wolf surged beneath his skin, growling low in approval. Nathan had to clench his jaw to stay still.

Peter smirked and spoke in a Joker tone. “And here we go…”

Rory glanced around like she wasn’t sure what she was doing here. Her eyes found Nathan almost instantly. And for a second… he swore she smiled.

Just a hint.

Nathan started to raise his hand, unsure whether to wave her over or play it cool—when Skylar reappeared beside him.

She draped herself on him again, fingers sliding across his stomach like she owned him. “There you are,” she purred, pressing her chest into his side. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”

Nathan stiffened, but didn’t shove her off.

His eyes were locked on Rory, who had stopped a few feet away. She raised an eyebrow, slowly tilted her head, and gave him that same look from lunch—oh my god, he’s such a tool.

And then she turned and walked away.

Not back to the parking lot.

Not toward the anime kids hiding by the driftwood.

Just… away. Alone.

Nathan’s stomach dropped.

Skylar was saying something, giggling. He didn’t hear her. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the growl of his wolf snarling inside him like, GO AFTER HER.

Nathan handed Peter his drink and walked off without a word, leaving Skylar mid-sentence.

He didn’t run—but he moved fast.

He didn’t know what he was going to say.

He just knew he had to.