Fractured Reality

The scent of coffee drifted through the house, a warm contrast to the cool morning air filtering in through Rhea's open window. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection in the old mirror across the room.

She didn't look different.

Same brown eyes. Same dark curls tumbling messily over her shoulders. Same tired face.

But she felt different.

There was something under her skin now—something that hadn't been there before.

A hum of energy, a quiet presence that coiled in the pit of her stomach, waiting.

Her wolf.

The thought made her chest tighten. She still didn't know how to think about that—about what she was now, about what last night meant. She had shifted. She had run with Evelyn under the moon, paws hitting the earth, her senses alight with a world she had never truly seen before.

And now, in the harsh light of morning, she had to figure out how to fit this new reality into her old life.

Her aunt's voice drifted up the stairs. "Rhea! Breakfast's ready!"

Rhea exhaled, standing. Her legs still ached, but not as much as before. She pulled on a hoodie, as if the familiar fabric could ground her, then headed downstairs.

The kitchen was warm and filled with the scent of eggs and toast. Her aunt, a short, sharp-eyed woman in her late forties, stood by the stove, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She glanced at Rhea as she entered, one brow raised.

"You look exhausted," she said, flipping an egg onto a plate. "Didn't sleep well?"

Rhea hesitated. She could still feel the dirt beneath her paws, the wind rushing past her.

"Something like that," she muttered, sliding into a chair.

Her aunt set a plate in front of her and sat across from her with a cup of coffee. For a while, they ate in silence, the only sound the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain.

Then her aunt sighed.

"You've been… off lately," she said carefully. "Distant."

Rhea tensed. "I'm fine."

Her aunt studied her, fingers tapping against her mug. "You sure?"

Rhea forced a nod, focusing on her toast.

Lying felt harder now. Like her body rejected it. Maybe it was the wolf in her—wild things didn't pretend.

But she wasn't ready to tell the truth. Not yet.

School was worse.

The moment she stepped into the hallway, everything felt wrong.

The noise, the movement, the overwhelming crush of people—her senses recoiled, her body hyper-aware of every sound, every scent, every heartbeat.

She smelled too much.

The sharp bite of perfume. The acrid staleness of an old locker. The sweat of bodies moving too close together.

It was suffocating.

Rhea clenched her fists, inhaling through her nose, trying to steady herself.

She could do this.

She had to.

"Rhea."

Her head snapped up before she even thought about it.

Evelyn stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the lockers, arms crossed.

But her eyes—her eyes—were locked onto Rhea's, sharp and searching.

Rhea swallowed hard.

She hadn't realized how much she had needed to see her until now.

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something only she could hear.

"Breathe," she murmured.

Rhea exhaled, shoulders loosening.

Evelyn pushed off the lockers and nodded toward the exit. "Come on."

Rhea hesitated. "Where?"

Evelyn gave her a look. "You really wanna be here right now?"

She didn't.

Not at all.

So she followed.

They ended up in Evelyn's car, parked in the lot just beyond the school grounds.

The windows were cracked open, letting in the crisp morning air.

For a while, they sat in silence.

Then Evelyn shifted slightly, glancing at Rhea.

"So?"

Rhea frowned. "So what?"

Evelyn smirked. "How are you handling it?"

Rhea let out a dry laugh. "I feel like my skin doesn't fit right."

Evelyn nodded, as if that answer made perfect sense. "That'll pass."

Rhea exhaled, staring out the windshield. "Everything smells too strong. Sounds too loud. And I keep…" She hesitated. "I keep wanting things I don't understand."

Evelyn's expression darkened slightly.

"The instincts get stronger before they settle," she said. "Your body's adjusting to the shift. But if you fight it too much, it'll push back."

Rhea glanced at her. "What does that mean?"

Evelyn hesitated, then sighed. "It means if you try too hard to ignore what you are, it'll come out anyway. And not in a way you can control."

A chill ran through Rhea.

Evelyn turned to face her fully, something serious in her gaze.

"I know you want to pretend nothing's changed. But it has. You have to learn how to live with it, or it's gonna tear you apart."

Rhea swallowed hard.

She knew Evelyn was right.

But knowing didn't make it any less terrifying.

She didn't know how to live with this yet.

And she wasn't sure she ever would.

The next few days were a blur of trying to pretend.

She went to school. She did her homework. She ate dinner with her aunt.

But nothing felt real.

She was restless.

At night, she found herself staring out the window, the pull of the forest like an ache in her ribs.

The wolf in her was waking up, stretching inside her chest, pacing.

And it was getting harder to ignore.

It snapped one evening.

She had been walking home late from a shift at the diner, the air cool and damp. The town was quiet, the streets mostly empty.

Then—

A scent.

Sharp. Metallic. Wrong.

Her body reacted before she even understood what she was smelling.

She turned a corner—and froze.

A man was standing in the alley behind the diner.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, his face shadowed by the dim streetlight.

And he was watching her.

Rhea's pulse spiked.

Her instincts screamed.

Not right. Not right.

The man took a step forward, and the scent of blood hit her full force.

She staggered back, her breath coming sharp and fast.

He smiled.

And that's when she knew.

He wasn't human.

She didn't think.

She ran.

The moment she turned the corner, a hand grabbed her wrist.

She yelped, jerking back—only to realize it was Evelyn.

"What—?" Rhea gasped.

Evelyn's eyes blazed.

"You smelled it too."

Rhea's stomach twisted. "What was that?"

Evelyn's jaw tightened.

Then she pulled Rhea close, voice low and urgent.

"There are worse things than werewolves in this town, Rhea."

Rhea's breath hitched.

The night suddenly felt darker.

Her world had already changed.

And now, it seemed—

It was about to change again.