The Predator's Invincible Heir

Chapter 1 : The Breaking Point

Dad had always wanted us to move back to his ancestral pack in the countryside. The plan was to wait until after my high school graduation. But plans have a way of crumbling when you do.

That afternoon, I was walking home from school when I saw Zara and Zoe standing at Zara's threshold. The afternoon sun painted their shadows long across the pavement, and something in my stomach dropped the moment our eyes met.

"Aria, are you coming to Jasmine's birthday party?" Zara asked.

Her voice carried that sweet, sticky tone—the one that sounded like concern but tasted like a trap. She leaned against her doorframe like she owned the street, her arms crossed, her head tilted just slightly. Zoe stood beside her, smirking into her phone like she already knew the punchline.

"I... I don't know," I answered, clutching my backpack straps tighter.

They burst out laughing. The sound bounced off the houses and hit me square in the chest.

"How do you do it, Aria?" Zoe stepped forward, pocketing her phone. Her eyes raked over me like I was a curious insect. "How do you feel comfortable walking around werewolves when you're not one? Aren't you afraid someone might snap your neck?"

My throat tightened. "Please, I just want to get home on time."

I took a step. Then another.

"Take another step, Aria, and I'll snap that pretty neck myself."

I kept walking.

Big mistake.

Zoe moved faster than my eyes could track. One second she was three houses down; the next, she stood right in front of me, her fangs sliding out like switchblades. Her eyes flickered—that dangerous gold that meant her wolf was close to the surface.

"You dare walk away from me?" she growled.

I screamed and threw my hands up to shield my face. But the blow never came to my head. Instead, something swept my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, my tailbone screaming, my books scattering across the concrete like fallen leaves.

They laughed. Of course they laughed.

Zara crouched beside me, her perfectly manicured nails tapping her chin. "Aww, look at her. All sprawled out like a broken doll."

Zoe kicked one of my books aside. "Should we help her up?"

"Let's see her beg first."

They took turns. A shove here. A yank of my hair there. Zoe pretended to trip and stomped on my fingers. Zara held my wrist down and traced a claw along my forearm—not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave angry red lines that would bruise by morning.

"Do you want to go home?" Zara asked, tilting her head like a merciful devil. "Just beg nicely."

I glared at her. I didn't speak.

That made it worse. The glares. The silence. It was like gasoline on their fire. They hit harder. Laughed louder. Zara grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back.

"Come on, Aria. Just three little words. Please let me go."

I bit my tongue until I tasted copper.

Beg? Not me. I'd rather die right here than beg these spoiled brats.

A car engine rumbled nearby. Tires crunched over gravel. I looked up through wet eyes and saw a familiar black sedan pulling into Zara's driveway.

Her parents stepped out.

Zara's father took one look at me on the ground, then at his daughter standing over me, and his jaw tightened. "That's enough, Zara."

"Daddy!" She spun around, her face twisting into that theatrical pout—the one that had probably worked on him a thousand times before. "We were just playing!"

Her mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "Come inside, sweetie."

Zara shot me one last venomous look. Zoe followed her, shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles.

Neither parent looked back at me. Not once. They just herded their daughters inside and closed the door.

I stayed on the ground for a long moment, staring at the closed door. The neighborhood was quiet now. A bird chirped somewhere. A lawn sprinkler hissed in the distance.

And then I let the tears come.

I didn't sob. I couldn't. Something in my chest had gone numb. I just sat there, my bruised fingers trembling, my tailbone throbbing, hot tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping off my chin.

Eventually, I picked myself up. I gathered my scattered books—one had a torn cover now, another was smudged with dirt. I didn't bother wiping my face. What was the point?

Mom was in the sitting room when I walked through the front door. The TV was on some cooking show, but her eyes were on me the second the door clicked shut. Her mouth dropped open.

I didn't greet her. I didn't explain. I just walked past her, my footsteps heavy on the creaky stairs, and shut my bedroom door behind me.

She didn't follow. She didn't call after me. She didn't ask.

Because it was becoming routine.

I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the wall. The posters were still up—bands I used to love, a wolf constellation I'd hung there when I was twelve, still hoping I'd shift someday. I'd stopped hoping years ago.

Why was I so weak?

Why do I always get bullied?

Why don't I have a wolf like everyone else?

I curled my fingers into my palms until my nails bit into the angry red scratches Zara had left. The pain was familiar. Almost comforting.

The sun went down outside my window. I didn't turn on the lights. I just sat there in the dark, brooding, replaying every slap, every kick, every laugh.

A soft knock came at my door. It creaked open, and Dad's head appeared in the gap. His eyes found me in the dark, and something flickered across his face—sadness, maybe. Or regret.

"Aria," he said quietly. "Pack your things. We're leaving for the countryside tomorrow."

I didn't ask why. Didn't ask where. Didn't ask if Mom was coming.

"Okay, Daddy."

My voice came out flat. Hollow. Like someone else had spoken.

He lingered at the door for a moment, like he wanted to say more. But he didn't. He just nodded and closed the door, leaving me alone with the dark.

I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

What's the point? I thought. We're just going to another werewolf territory. The story will be the same. Or worse.

Outside, the moon was rising. Full and cold and silver. It spilled through my window and painted stripes across my floor.

I turned my back to it.