Prologue

Prologue

ARES

Imagine… a young girl living a picturesque life. A big white house surrounded by shrubberies and the proverbial white picket fence. Friends who have your back, even when you get in trouble sneaking out on your sixteenth birthday weekend to meet a bunch of boys. A perfect, loving omega mom who comforts you when you’re sick and lets you cry on her shoulder when you watch sad movies like Where the Red Fern Grows . Four overbearing alpha dads who teach you to ride a bike for the first time, then blow on your knees when you fall off and scrape them. They stare down your high school crush before your first dance, warning him that if he touches you, he’ll never see the light of day again, then turn to look at you with pride. A look that says you’re their entire world, that they’d do anything to protect you and keep you safe. Five siblings and one on the way, rounding out the ideal household with a new pet and happiness every day.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a perfect world or a hot alpha-hole book that ends in a happily ever after. This is reality. And I, Ares Lockwood, live the complete opposite of a charmed life. In fact, that delightful portrayal couldn’t be more bullshit.

There’s no memory of a perfect family, since mine perished long ago, leaving me with an ailing family friend—Kathy. She was someone I took care of more than she did for me, but we had companionship until she died weeks before graduation. Our relationship was born out of obligation—her caring for me and my caring for her—but I was sad she wasn’t there to witness my first steps into adulthood. There were no friends to celebrate, no family for hugs, leaving me to navigate the world alone on the most important day of my life.

The rest of the pack avoided getting too close to the offspring of a shiftless wolf. Though the pack prides itself on supporting its members, they have no empathy for the poor orphan, ensuring she understood she’d never be on equal ground. The adults gaze on with pity and sadness, while my peers have always spoken the truth: my mother was the only shiftless she-wolf in the pack’s entire history.

The only semblance of truth in that bullshit fairytale is the crushes I’ve harbored since… well, since as long as I can remember.

Hendrix Carver.

And his brothers: Maddock, Knox, and Kato.

At first, it was just Hendrix. From the moment I saw his dark head of hair run across the playground in elementary school, he snatched my attention like a squirrel on a tree. He had a magnetism that drew in those around him, and the sensation only increased as the years passed. Once I realized there were four ice-blue-eyed demons lurking within the same family, palpitations nearly concaved my heart and lungs. Each of them became a small piece of my day, walking the halls of school, soaking up the perks of popularity.

Despite my efforts to blend in with the wallflowers, it was a challenge given my silver hair, fuchsia eyes, and the shiftless stigma that shadowed me like the lingering scent of a skunk. The Carver brothers knew who I was—the entire pack did, whether they wanted to or not.

Freshman year was the first time since elementary school that all the Carver brothers were back within the same walls. Primary school was easier since teenage hormones hadn’t taken over and the clamoring for hierarchy hadn’t begun, but as we grew older and I retreated into myself, they pulled away. Their kind gestures dwindled into polite head nods in the hall when no one was paying attention.

That year, I found myself admiring the brothers from afar, clearly becoming a bit of a stalker. My motto was to blend into the background, but Tamera—a possessive hoity in the same grade as Hendrix and me—noticed my attention on the boys and started warning me away from them, claiming they were her pack. Her mates. She’d corner me in the gym, the bathroom, hell, even the empty hallways, and whisper how pathetic I was, that they’d never be mine. They’d never want me—a shiftless she-wolf.

She was relentless, all while weaseling her way closer to them herself. She created dramatic moments—the ultimate drama queen—to capture their attention, making sure they focused solely on her. Anytime one of them offered a friendly greeting, she’d distract them until I was no longer a thought and sank back into the background. Tamera meticulously stripped away my confidence and with it, any fantasy of being the Carver brothers’ mate. Effectively crushing the tiny spark within that said they were mine.

Maddock, the eldest, was the star of the football team. Not hard to imagine since he presented as an alpha that year—his senior year. The twins—Kato and Knox—were in their junior year, while Hendrix and I were freshmen.

Maddock portrays himself as the resident bad boy, covered in tattoos, throwing wild parties, and drinking with his friends. But watching without being seen means that you catch things others don’t. I’ve witnessed his softer side: helping an elder with their groceries, offering rides to people who’ve had too much to drink, or tutoring fellow teammates so they’re not kicked off the team. He may want the world to see him a certain way, but I know the truth. I see him for who he really is, and that’s a kind soul.

The twins—Knox and Kato—are mirror images of one another but easy to differentiate, if only to me. Their classic dark hair obscures their ice-blue eyes continuously, and both tilt saucy smirks before flicking it from their vision. They play happy-go-lucky, but while in crowds Kato tends to shrink away, finding a corner to tuck into and watch, rejecting every advance that comes his way. Another wallflower. A very muscular, sexy wallflower. Knox, on the other hand, was a replica of Maddock when it came to their extracurricular activities.

Secretly, I’d fantasize about being an omega—their omega. The magnetism was there, if only one-sided. They’ve never shown interest, barely speaking to me growing up. Although that’s partly my fault for hiding away and becoming invisible. Tamera’s tormenting words parrot that I’m worthless and unworthy, and she’d be right if I were shiftless. No highly sought-after alpha pack would seek out a shiftless wolf.

Reality was a much harsher bitch, knowing that these fixations were fleeting hormones of an obsessed teenage girl. The Carvers would be matched with the perfect mate—more than likely Tamera if she had anything to say about it, but most definitely not me.

The end of senior year signified graduation and my eighteenth birthday. One of my greatest fears was being shiftless and becoming the next failure to the pack. Even though I don’t remember my mother, it’s clear from the pack’s history books that she was the only shiftless wolf throughout their records.

Regardless of my designation and shifting status, I planned to leave the pack behind. I was tired of living like a shadow, and I’d much rather live among humans than people who despised me for uncontrollable destinies.

Hendrix Carver is the youngest of the brothers and in the same grade as me. We also share a birthday. In the days leading up to our designation day, his supernatural form was emerging, and damn, what a luscious form. His over-six-foot frame towered over my five-two build, exposing all kinds of toned muscles if the tightness of his shirt was anything to judge by. Not that I’d know personally, since I always shrunk into the background when he was nearby, but I admired him all the same. The girls fawned over him, and the boys wanted to be him. His dark hair fanned his forehead and obscured his glacier eyes—a complete replica of his brothers.

My heart ached, missing each of them when they graduated, which I thought was silly at the time since it was natural they’d move on to their careers. As expected, the Carver brothers presented as alphas but never met their true mate. Both a relief and a heartbreak, because they hadn’t claimed me either.

Regardless, my birthday had finally arrived. A night I’d waited for my entire life. Kathy was shit at explaining pack culture, so I had to learn what to expect on my own. The books I read relayed that the moon would rise to its highest peak in the sky, and a wolf’s designation would present on their eighteenth birthday. The questions I’ve dwelled on my entire life—the proverbial fork in the road—would finally be answered.

Am I shiftless? An omega? Are the Carver brothers mine?

The answers to these questions swayed the final decision to leave town. If I were an omega, their omega, I could stay. But if I were shiftless… they deserved better. Someone whole. Not the shell of the person I’d undoubtedly turn into once I left everything behind.

Graduation was unfortunately mandatory—an event I couldn’t shrink away from when they announced my name on stage, drawing four sets of icy-blue eyes that trailed my form as I slowly walked across the stage, as if they were seeing me for the first time.

The electric jolt that thrummed through my veins on that stage is what I blame for the idiotic decision to join our senior party in the woods later that night. I justified my reasoning, placating that it was my birthday, that I deserved one night of fun before disappearing from the pack. Typically, family would join their pup’s designation night, but since I didn’t have any, I’d settle for the protection of our sentient trees.

The night was perfect—a light summer breeze brushing its invisible fingers through my hair, dancing within the silken skirts of my dress, and tickling my skin like a familiar lover. Dusk turning to night brought the stars to twinkle across the sky, winking down at me like they held secrets of their own. My heart warmed, creating a stir in my gut that I’d never felt before, bringing a smile to my lips.

I wasn’t shiftless. My wolf was stirring. I could sense her in my bones, an ache begging me to shift, to show all those around me that I wasn’t like my mother.

If only that had been the case…

Instead, my omega designation slipped into place first, creating an achy friction against my breasts and between my thighs. My perfume fluttered across that same caressing breeze, enticing my mate to find me since the first perfuming is only detectable by them. My assumption was that no mate waited within this pack since no interest was ever shown growing up. Sure, the tether wasn’t created until your first shift, but mates can sometimes sense each other. Since the Carvers never reciprocated my wandering eye, no expectations were present.

Until Hendrix stepped out of the shadows and growled.

The sound was startling and unexpected, but also shot straight between my thighs, pressing, and holding like a phantom finger. My legs turned to jelly, barely holding my weight, and worsening by the second.

They gave out completely when his next growl turned into a word. “Mate.” His reflexes were sharp, snatching me into his arms, nuzzling and scenting my neck, rumbling his appreciation. “Mate.”

My mind was reeling, wondering if I’d slipped into an alternate reality, as I met his eyes close up for the first time. My breath caught, choking on my next inhalation, as I hummed my agreement.

We were mates.

His eyes blow wide, engulfing his ice, and dilating to midnight. His perplexing expression is something I’ll never forget. The need and longing were overwhelming his features, but something in his gaze was unsettling. Unfortunately, the doubt slipped away when his lips trailed my neck. Until my dying breath, I’ll never forget the sensation of his soft lips against my skin, the tightness with which he held me. The way he whispered “mate” throughout the night, as if I meant the world.

A brief blink after his lips touched mine, and he moved us to Old Man Randy’s barn deep within the trees. In the next instant, he was lying us softly within the straw on the wooden barn floor. His eyes closed tightly, shaking his head, trying to clear the emotion. He was too overwhelmed—fighting off the natural instinct to mate, to claim—my shirt ripped down the middle, baring my breasts to another person for the first time.

My mate.

By the next blink, we were completely naked, and instincts were taking over, creating enough slick for him to easily find entrance. Another first that I’ll never forget.

I’ll also never forget that hours later, after numerous rounds of knotting in many positions, my heart was full of a love I’d never expected. A love that slashes with the sharpest of blades when he stood and dressed without acknowledgment as the sun rose around us. When he glared down at me like I was nothing, stripping me bare of the warmth he just helped create, and uttered the word that will forever seal our fates.

“Shiftless.” Basic. One simple word. A rejection. The longing and reverie replaced by malice in his glacial eyes as he stared down at me, giving me little time to process that the moon had passed its peak and with it my first shift.

Shiftless.

Nothing else said. He turned and stalked away as if I were nothing—a romp in the hay—which fit the bill considering where we’d landed. Emptiness overwhelmed my senses enough that I lay there naked and motionless for a long time until the tickle of our pairing and lost virginity drew my attention back to my vulnerable state.

The rejection reinforced my plan to leave. No family. No friends. And no mates to worry about. I’d turned out exactly like my mother—a shiftless omega.