The White Wolf

Meghan Evans had learned to make herself small. Not in a magical way, not yet, but in the kind of way that comes from years of being ignored. She sat in the back of Hollow Ridge High’s cafeteria, her lunch tray untouched, tracing circles on the table while the rest of the pack filled the room with noise and laughter. Her best friend, Lila, plopped down across from her, sliding a chocolate milk her way. “You skipped breakfast again,” Lila said, eyes narrowed. She was one of the few who didn’t care that Meghan wasn’t exactly pack material—a little rounder, a little quieter, a little too human for their liking. “You know that’s not helping your mood.” Meghan forced a smile. “Maybe I’m hoping I’ll just fade away.” “Please,” Lila said, rolling her eyes. “If you disappeared, who’d keep me from throwing my books at Venus’s head every time she walks by?” Right on cue, Venus Hale entered the cafeteria like she owned it—head cheerleader, alpha’s daughter, all shining hair and cruel smiles. The crowd seemed to bend around her. And behind her, carrying her bag like a loyal shadow, was Brett Carter. Meghan’s breath caught before she could stop it. Brett was kind—well, at least to everyone except her. Tall, with dark eyes and a half-smile that made her stomach twist. He’d helped her pick up her books once in seventh grade, and she’d been hopeless ever since. Lila followed her gaze and groaned. “Seriously, Meg? He’s practically hypnotized. Look at him.” “I know,” Meghan whispered, eyes dropping to her tray. “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Then make him notice you,” Lila said. “Come to the bonfire tonight. Everyone’ll be there.” “Everyone,” Meghan echoed, meaning everyone who’ll laugh at me. Across the room, Venus brushed Brett’s arm and laughed at something he said. It was the kind of sound that made the rest of the room want to laugh too. Meghan swallowed hard and looked away. Lila reached across the table, her hand warm over Meghan’s. “You don’t have to be like them. You just have to show them who you really are.” Meghan almost laughed. If only she knew. Because somewhere deep inside, beneath the insecurity and the shame, something else lived — something ancient and untamed. She could feel it sometimes, like a pulse under her skin. At night, when the moonlight streamed through her window, she could almost hear it calling her name. But that was nonsense. Just old stories, she told herself. The prophecy of the White Wolf — a savior born from weakness — was nothing more than a bedtime myth. Still, as she watched Brett follow Venus out of the cafeteria, Meghan couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was about to change. And not in a way she could control.