She's the True Heir

CHAPTER 4

I sat there staring at them for a second too long, long enough for my chest to tighten in that annoying, traitorous way it had no right to, before I forced myself to stand and swing my bag over my shoulder like I hadn’t just spent the last few seconds replaying every mistake I’d made the night before.

“What are you doing?” Ally asked as she half-stood, confused.

“Tell Devin that I’m sorry, but I had to go,” I said, already stepping down the bleachers.

She frowned. “You don’t want to see them?”

I shook my head once, sharp. “Have you ever heard of a one-night stand? That’s all it was. I gotta go.”

I didn’t wait for her response, just moved as fast as I could, the metal steps clanging under my feet while my heart thudded like it was trying to outrun me. I cut across the edge of the field, slipped past the gates, and didn’t slow until I was off school property and halfway down the street, breathing a little too hard for someone who was definitely fine.

Then I heard it. Footsteps.

Not rushed, not panicked, just… certain, like whoever it was knew exactly how fast I was moving and had matched it without effort.

“Bella,” a voice called, warm and annoyingly familiar.

I stopped despite myself, then swore under my breath and turned around.

Axel and Atticus stood a few feet back, hands in their pockets like they hadn’t just followed me off campus, both of them looking far too calm for guys who were about to get shut down.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I said.

Atticus grinned first, slow and easy. “You’re hard to catch when you don’t want to be.”

“I wasn’t aware I was playing,” I shot back. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Axel tilted his head, green eyes sharp, scanning me in a way that felt less like checking me out and more like checking in. “You left in a hurry.”

“That’s what people do,” I said, crossing my arms. “They leave.”

“After a one-night stand?” Atticus asked lightly. “Sure. After avoiding us all day? That feels different.”

I scoffed, already stepping back. “You’re reading into it.”

Axel took a single step closer, careful, like he knew exactly where my line was. “You know we can hear your heartbeat from here, right?”

I laughed, loud and disbelieving. “Okay, you’re officially insane.”

“Werewolf,” Atticus said casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

I stared at him, then burst out laughing again, sharper this time. “Right. And let me guess, you’re vampires or something?”

Axel didn’t smile. “You’re fast, you heal wrong, and you smell like pine when you’re nervous.”

“That’s called shampoo,” I snapped. “Congratulations, you’ve cracked the case.”

Atticus lifted his hands in surrender, still smiling. “Hey, we’re not judging. We think it’s kind of hot.”

“That’s your cue to stop talking,” I said, pointing at him. “Both of you.”

Axel held my gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering there. “We’re not wrong.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, backing away again, pulse skidding. “And whatever last night was, it doesn’t mean you get to follow me around and make up supernatural nonsense.”

Atticus opened his mouth, probably to flirt his way out of it, but I cut him off.

“Don’t,” I warned. “I’m leaving.”

I turned and walked away before either of them could say my name again, my pace quickening with every step, refusing to look back, even though I could feel their eyes on me long after the sound of their footsteps faded.

I tell myself I’m just taking the long way, that I’ll circle back once my head stops buzzing, but my feet keep carrying me past the last streetlight and into the narrow break in the trees where the forest opens like it’s been waiting for me. The air changes immediately, cooler and damp, heavy with the smell of earth and leaves, and I breathe it in like it might rinse the day off me.

The path isn’t really a path, just a suggestion worn into the ground by animals and people who know better than to stay on marked trails, and I follow it anyway, boots crunching softly while branches scrape my jacket. I’m aware of how quiet it gets the deeper I go, aware of how alone I am, but the thought of my house, of questions and looks and expectations, makes my chest feel tighter than the dark ever could.

I stop near a small clearing, hands braced on my knees, breathing hard even though I haven’t been rushing, and that’s when the forest shifts.

It’s subtle at first, a wrongness in the air, the way birds fall silent all at once, and my head snaps up just as something moves at the edge of the trees. My heart lurches when it steps fully into view, massive and unmistakable, fur dark and thick, eyes catching the faint light like twin embers.

A wolf.

Not the half-glimpsed, too-far-away kind, but a real one, huge enough that my breath stutters and my instincts scream at me to run.

We stare at each other, the space between us stretched tight, and I wait for it to lower its head, to bare its teeth, to do what every horror story says it should. Instead, it tilts its head slightly, studying me with an intelligence that makes my skin prickle.

I swallow, my pulse hammering, but something else settles over me too, a strange recognition that doesn’t make sense and doesn’t feel dangerous, and the wolf’s gaze softens, if that’s even possible. It steps closer, slow and deliberate, then stops, nostrils flaring as if it’s scenting something deeper than skin.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. But then, without a sound, it turns.

The wolf pads back into the trees, powerful shoulders rolling beneath its fur, and disappears as quietly as it came, leaving the clearing empty and my heart racing like it’s just been let in on a secret I don’t understand yet.

I stand there long after it’s gone, hands shaking, knowing one thing with absolute certainty.

That wasn’t a warning. It was a recognition.

When I managed to regain my composure I turned and started heading straight for the house. And unlucky for me, I could hear dad before I even got to the house.

He was rummaging through something but I didn’t know what.

I walked up the patio and slowly opened the door, waiting to see what I was about to see inside.

Dad was tossing things all over the house while he had a bag open in the living room.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

“We’re leaving.” He said.

“What? No.” I said.

“They’re here. Wolves are here.” He said.

“Why the hell are you so scared of werewolves? You are one. Why do you keep running from them?” I asked.

“Because I refuse to belong to a pack and I am not going to let them take you.” He said.

“Why the f**k do you care?” I asked.

“Because I do. Go and pack your stuff. Now.” He demanded.

“No. I’m not leaving. Not again.” I said. So he marched over to me and he grabbed my arms and threw me against the wall, my back burned from the earlier lashes that he gave me that still hadn’t healed.

“You will do as I say or I will bury you in the backyard before I leave. If you don’t stay with me, then you’re not leaving this house. Now go and pack your shit.” He growled in my face and pushed me down the hallway.