KAI
The locker room stank of sweat and old cleats, but I hardly noticed anymore. It had become my refuge, the clatter of pads and the echo of coaches yelling plays a kind of white noise that kept the silence at bay. I threw myself into drills with a ferocity that left my teammates exchanging glances. They knew better than to ask.
I was running from ghosts—phantom scents of orange blossom and jasmine that haunted me, whispers of a wolf that was not my own. I'd see flashes of white fur in my periphery during sprints, but when I turned, there was nothing.
Since Alexis left for San Francisco, my world had narrowed to a pinpoint. Football, MCAT prep books that gathered dust on my desk, and the heavy weight of Alpha duties that had fallen squarely on my shoulders after Dad slipped into a coma
