Halia_Exford

**Rory’s life was already unravelling before the wolf started talking to her.**  

She thought she was losing her mind when she heard his voice—deep, calm, *male*—whispering to her in the restroom mirror. She thought it was stress, exhaustion, anything but the truth.  

But then the change came. The bones breaking, the hunger igniting, the animal instincts sharpening her senses. And the voice? It wasn’t just in her head.  

She isn’t crazy. She isn’t human.  

She’s a werewolf. And she’s *wrong.*  

A female werewolf should have a female wolf spirit. Always. But inside her is something impossible—something unnatural. A male wolf. And in the ruthless world of werewolves, things that shouldn’t exist are either controlled… or eliminated.  

Now the packs are circling, the hunters are watching, and the wolf inside her is whispering things she’s not sure she wants to hear. He tells her to run. To fight. To let him out.  

But if she does, will she still be Rory?  

Or will she become something even the wolves fear?

His howl,her destiny

Today is my sixteenth birthday, and it feels like the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

As I got up, flashes of last night's dream rushed through my mind, sending a prick of fear through my heart. The wolf—his piercing eyes, his deep growl, and, more importantly, the strange connection I felt toward him. The way he looked into my eyes, the words he spoke:

"Don't be afraid. I am the one to show you your destiny."

What destiny was he talking about?

I had been having these dreams and visions since I was a child. Whenever I mentioned them to mother, she brushed them off, saying it was all in my head, blaming my love for horror movies. Dad? He was always too busy with work, never making time for family—let alone my birthday. He always had some excuse. As for my siblings, Anna and River, they never cared. They were too busy having fun, partying, and going to the movies with their boyfriends.

These visions—they were more than just dreams. I would see images of a woman with strawberry-blonde hair, her face always blurry. Sometimes, I would hear distant howls or faint whispers as if people were talking from miles away. Other times, I could understand animals... even talk to them.

But that wasn't possible. I was human. Right?

Shaking off the thoughts, I got out of bed and went to brush my teeth. But the moment I looked in the mirror, my heart nearly stopped.

Deep, electrifying yellow—just like the wolf's.

Panic surged through me, my breath quickening. Then, as suddenly as it happened, I heard my mother call from downstairs.

"Rory, breakfast is ready!"

I snapped my head back to the mirror—my usual hazel eyes stared back at me.

What is happening to me? Am I going crazy?

A new kind of anxiety settled in my chest. And this time, it wasn't just about my birthday.

CHAPTER 2