Chapter One

Cassie

My eyelids flutter open that morning with a groan on my lips as my annoying alarm clock buzzes on my nightstand. I reach out to turn it off without looking, my hand flailing for a bit before I finally make contact and press the button to stop it.

This is the part of my day that I hate the most; waking up to the constant aches that plague every inch of my body. I go to bed each night hoping the next morning will be different… that by some miracle, I will feel better and this pain will go away.

Of course that never happens.

I sit up to stretch and wince as my bones crack and pain shoots through my muscles from the movement.

Pathetic… not even humans are this weak.

Wolf shifters are supposed to be one of the most energetic species alive. Few surpass us in physical strength. Except me. I was born like this. Defective. I am not only weak in human form… I am also… shiftless. I have no wolf.

I pull myself out of bed, my body screaming in protest, but I can't stay in bed all day. I roll my neck in a massaging motion as I head to the bathroom. I have to go to school. Despite the hand I've been dealt, I live my life the best I can. I've put too much effort into school to start slacking off. It's this drive within me that keeps me going through the pain.

The tiles are cold underneath my bare feet as I step into the bathroom, and I turn the heater on to help with the pain in my bones and to keep myself from freezing to death.

After my shower, I stop before the misted-over mirror. I swipe a palm over the glass and stare at my reflection in the clear section. Pale, blotchy skin with dull blue eyes, and dead brown hair.

Yeah… that's me. I would probably be pretty… if I didn't constantly look like I was on the verge of death.

It's a good thing looks aren't the criteria for doing well in school.

Hollow Fang University is an esteemed institution, the only college here in Silverwood, renowned for its rigorous academic programs and rich supernatural heritage. It's such a good school that witches and even some vampires visit for short periods to take some courses here.

HFU is quite expensive, but academically gifted students like me often manage to secure scholarships to gain admission.

I turn on the tap, letting the water flow steadily as I reach for my toothbrush and apply a dab of toothpaste to it. I brush my teeth gently over the sink, careful not to make my gums bleed. When I'm done, I rinse my mouth with warm water.

I can feel my insides begin to revolt against me, and I know that if I don't get to my pills in time, I am going to throw up, have a seizure, and then pass out in my own vomit.

The medicine isn't lasting as long lately.

Before, I could wait until after breakfast to take my medicine. Now… I can barely shower and brush my teeth before I need my first pill for the day.

I leave the bathroom in a hurry and swipe up the unbranded, white bottle on my nightstand. I quickly pop a pill in my mouth. I shudder as the usual nausea rushes over me, but then I settle the next moment. My body still hurts, but now it's a muted pain in the background.

I casually toss the pills on my bed and begin to get dressed for the day. I pull on some sweats and an oversized T-shirt I'd gotten from my best friend, Eric. When I'm done getting dressed, I pack my bag for school and make sure I take my pills with me.

I'm going to need another pill by my third class today, and another right before heading home. If I make the mistake of leaving my pill at home, I won't survive the day. Such is the bleakness of my life.

I look down at the bottle as I put it securely in my bag. Mom spends more than half of her income on these generic-looking pills. She can't even afford to buy a new bottle and just gets refills in this old one.

A couple of years back, Mom hadn't been able to get the pills to me in time when I ran out. I thought that I was going to die. My muscles felt like someone had dipped me in lava and my bones were shivering inside my skin. I was having heart palpitations, barely conscious, and throwing up bile.

I still remember how it felt when Mom barged into my room, worry and fear in her gaze as she lifted me off the floor, taking me in her warm arms. My eyes had completely rolled back into my head, but the moment she managed to help me swallow my dose of medicine, I felt the pain start to recede.

Mom is a maid for one of the wealthiest families in town… and they pay her well. We should not be scraping by, but we are. And it's because of me. The older I got, the more Mom upped my dosage. I moved from one pill a day to four pills a day.

I asked why and she said I had grown resistant to the medicine. I don't like to think about what will happen as I continue to live life like this. What if one day, the medicine doesn't help, no matter how much of it I take?

I let out a deep sigh and shake my head. I try not to think of such things. I just live each day as it comes. I work hard at school so that I will be able to make something of myself and be able to afford as many pills as I need without working mom into an early grave.

Forcing a smile on my face, I head downstairs to greet the only family I have.

"Hey, Mom!" I greet her, walking into the kitchen, inhaling the sweet aroma of her special, freshly brewed coffee and scrambled eggs.

"Hey, honey!" Mom flashes a smile at me. "Did you sleep well?"

I pull a stool by the counter and sit as she passes me a plate.

"Hmm. Smells delicious," I compliment her cooking. Stabbing the eggs with the tines of my fork, I dig in.

"Tastes even better," I declare with a mouth full.

Mom smiles at me. "I'm glad you like it." Her gaze is worried as she adds, "I asked if you slept fine."

"Oh, right. Sorry." I swallow. "Yes, I did."

Lies. No, I didn't sleep fine. Recently I've been getting weaker than before and a lot more tired than usual. It's a thing of concern to me but I haven't told her yet.

My mom worries too much, and I can't… I won't cause her even more concern. She's been through enough because of me already.

She takes her apron off and joins me, setting her plate on the counter.

I'm engrossed in her delicious meal, but I can still feel her stare. Honestly, I don't like the way she looks at me sometimes. She looks at me like I'm a ticking time bomb that'll go off at any minute. Mom looks at me with pity in her eyes, and I know that she means well, but it's really not making me feel any better. If anything, it's killing the little confidence left in me.

"You do realize that I can feel your gaze on me, right? Like, I can literally feel it on my skin," I say to her, raising my head to look at her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she immediately apologizes.

It can be annoying the way she treats me like she's carrying an egg. She handles me so delicately and with so much care.

"Mom…" I say to her softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I'm okay. I promise."

She's looking at me so seriously, as though she's trying to figure something out, but I smile at her, still maintaining eye contact. My body still aches despite having taken the pill, but I cannot tell her that. She won't react well to it.

"I know you are, honey." Mom pats my hands. "I know you are." She sighs. "You're a big girl now, and I need to remember that."

"Exactly." I smile.

She walks over to the fridge and takes out a jug of orange juice.

"Speaking of being a big girl…" she says with a subtle tone of excitement in her voice as she turns the juice into a glass cup. "Isn't that Eric's shirt you're wearing?"

Oh God, no.

I know exactly where she's headed with this conversation, and my shoulders drop immediately, my head bending in exhaustion. I would lie that it isn't, but we're wolf shifters. And unlike me, Mom is a proper wolf shifter. She can smell Eric.

"Mom, can we please not do this right now?" I plead with my hands pressed together.

"Do what?" She feigns ignorance.

"Do this." I circle my finger in the air between us. "Okay? I know exactly what you're going to say."

"Oh, come on, but am I wrong? I know all about the relationship between you and the Jackson brothers," she says casually, but there's nothing casual about the look on her face.

My heart skips for a moment but I don't let it show.

"Okay, what about them? They're my friends."

She chugs down her glass and sets the cup down on the countertop, casting a disbelieving look at me with her head cocked to a side.

"You really wanna play this game with me right now?" she asks with raised brows.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I reply, avoiding eye contact.

"I might be old-fashioned, honey, but I'm not blind," she says and that annoying grin finds its way back to her face again. "I see the way they look at you… and I see the way you look at them."

She doesn't take her eyes off me even for a second. I guess she's trying to catch the slightest expression on my face.

I stare back blankly, even though I know she's right.

"I know you know that what I'm saying is true," she says to me.

For the next few seconds, I'm quiet, further buttressing her point.

"What are you saying, Mom?" I finally ask.

"What I'm saying is that both brothers are great options for a marriage. Although, personally, if you ask me, I'd say Jeremiah is a better match for you since he's an Alpha, and he's also recessive just like you," she explains, clearly not thinking too deeply about her words.

Instantly, a dark cloud hovers around me and the air is thick with tension. The shame of what I am—a recessive Omega—comes rushing to the forefront of my mind.

That initial smile on my face has gradually vanished as the depression starts to sink in. Mom can sense the swing in my mood; it's very palpable. And this is why she's always very careful around me. She's selective of the things she does and says when she's with me because she might say something that will push me into a mood.

I'm trying to stay in control so she won't get too worried about being the reason I've lost my smile, but the more I try, the more difficult it becomes.

"Does it even matter who I marry?" I ask, my voice tinged with sadness, filled with the weight of my plight.

"Come on, honey. Don't say that," she says to me in a comforting voice.

"But it's true, Mom."

She shakes her head in disagreement, but I continue anyway.

"I mean, look at me," I begin, trying not to snap at her out of frustration. "I'm such a recessive Omega that I might just as well be a Beta…"

"But you're not," she cuts me off. "You're my special baby. You're not a Beta."

I let out a sarcastic laugh at this point.

"Am I not?" The question is rhetorical, and I continue, on the verge of losing my cool, my voice raised slightly higher than normal. "I don't even have a freaking heat period!"

The only thing making me different from a Beta is that I am able to smell pheromones.

"There's nothing special about me."

Mom is quiet and the silence that blooms between is deafening. She's looking at me in that manner that I loathe, but I won't snap at her again.

I inhale deeply and exhale slowly.

Much better.

Mom tries to change the subject.

"Well, the Jackson brothers definitely don't see you the way you see yourself." She smiles. "Both of them are head over heels in love with you. In my book, that's something very special."

I laugh lightly at her words and a blush appears on my face just from thinking about them. I shovel the last of my food into my mouth.

"Stop it, Mom. Eric and Jeremiah don't see me like that," I mumble.

I wish they would.

Mom's phone lights up on the table and I see the time.

"Oh my. I'm already late." I pick up my backpack and swing it over my left shoulder. "Bye, Mom. See you later." I kiss her forehead and rush out the door.

Behind that smile, I know that Mom pities me. Most of the folks in Silverwood do, actually, and it's quite infuriating. I'm even worse than a Beta because I'm shiftless. At least Betas still have their wolves. They just can't smell pheromones.

I step out into the compound and look over at the Kaye mansion, standing tall and magnificent, unlike the tiny outhouse I just came out of. Mother and I live in the small annex building on the Kaye family property. She reminds me to be grateful to the Kayes for letting us live there since we can't afford rent elsewhere. She couldn't afford the money she'd have to use for her commute if she lived somewhere else.

I catch a whiff of a familiar scent. Leila, the only daughter of this noble family, is stepping into the chauffeured Benz in the driveway.

She's the perfect example of an ideal Omega, strong and powerful. Plus, she is very healthy. I feel like she's the one Mom was describing a moment ago, not me. Leila and I are like day and night; she's everything that I wish to be, and I am most definitely everything that she wishes not to be.

Leila has it all: money, fame, beauty, power, and respect. Me? What do I have? Nothing but a Mom who basically uses most of her paycheck to buy medicine to support my miserable existence.

I let out a sigh, deciding to brush off the thoughts that cloud my mind. I'm already sick as it is. I can't keep adding to my illness by focusing on these negative thoughts.

As I step out of the compound, my heart calms down for a moment, and I smile reflexively at the sight of the handsome man in a plaid shirt leaning against his black bike. His hazel eyes shimmer in the sunlight light as he stares at me.

"You sure took your time," Eric says to me with a charming grin.

"Blame that on my Mom," I reply as I approach his bike, unable to stop smiling.

Eric is the younger of the Jackson brothers. He comes around to take me to school almost every morning. In my condition, I can't even walk twenty minutes without nearly dying from body aches. I'm grateful that Eric's been saving my ass.

"Was your Mom the reason you were late yesterday as well?" he teases, brushing his fingers through his brown hair. "Or the day before that?"

"Oh, come on. That one's on you," I defend myself, halting before him.

"On me?" He pushes his head back a little, wonder in his eyes. "How did this become my fault?"

"Do you wanna keep talking, or do you wanna take me to school?" I stare at him, trying to control the feeling threatening to burst out of me.

Mom had a point. I do feel something for both brothers. This tingling in my chest… it has to be a feeling of friendship… right?

Eric shakes his head and helps to strap my helmet on while we both quietly enjoy the closeness between us. He's looking at me and smiling, and I love that he adores me. Like Mom said, neither he nor his brother sees me the way I see myself and I consider myself lucky for this much at least.

He smirks and gets on the bike, starting it and revving the engine, his helmet safely fitted on his head.

I climb on the back, wrapping my hands around his waist, inhaling his natural scent.

"You ready?" He revs the engine again.

"Aye, captain," I reply, and he rides off, zooming us away from the house.