Chapter 2

The thing about perfect families is they're anything but perfect.

Ethan Laurent knew this better than anyone. From the outside, they looked like the ultimate success story—his father, the most respected alpha in the region, his mother the picture of grace and sophistication. But inside their immaculate mansion? Total disaster waiting to happen.

The car's leather seats creaked as he shifted, still buzzing from the earlier confrontation at the police station. His sister, Riley, glanced over, that knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"So," she drawled, "what do you think Dad's gonna do when he finds out about this?"

Ethan snorted. "Who's gonna tell him? You?"

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Me? As if." She mimicked their father's stern voice perfectly. "'I wish you would make better choices. I expect more from a Laurent."

They both burst out laughing. It was their favorite game—playing their parents, mocking the suffocating expectations that came with their family name.

"Speaking of making better choices," Riley nudged him, "want to talk about your latest... adventure?"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Not a chance."

Their father's version of leadership was all about control. Appearances. Reputation. The perfect alpha facade that meant absolutely nothing beneath the surface. Ethan had watched his parents' marriage—a political arrangement masked as a love story. Cold. Calculated. Nothing like real connection.

"Bet Dad would lose his mind if he knew half the stuff I get up to," Ethan muttered.

Riley laughed. "Like he's one to talk. Mr. 'Perfect Alpha' has his own secrets."

The car passed through streets lined with trees, their family's territory stretching out like an invisible kingdom. Ethan knew every inch of this land. it had been drilled into him from the start. He was meant to be the perfect heir, the future alpha, the one to carry their pack forward. But deep down, he'd spent just as much time trying to escape that fate as he had preparing for it. If they only knew.

"Seriously," Riley said, her voice softening, "what are we going to do?"

Ethan's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "Same thing we always do. Survive."

The Laurent pack wasn't just another werewolf family. They were old blood. Pure lineage. The kind of pack that traced its roots back to the original wolf clans. Powerful didn't begin to describe them—ruthless was closer. In their world, one mistake could cost you everything.

The car came to a stop. Before they could even open the doors, their father was already walking out. Alexander Laurent wasn't just an alpha. He was THE alpha—the kind of leader other packs feared and respected.

"Get inside," he called, his voice carrying a weight that was part command, part threat.

Riley squeezed Ethan's hand briefly—their silent signal of support. They might drive each other crazy, but when it came to facing their father, they were united.

"Full moon's coming," Riley whispered. "And you know what that means."

The Laurent pack had traditions. Brutal, ancient traditions that separated the strong from the weak. And Ethan was about to be at the center of it all.

The basement was cold. Dark. The kind of space that made your skin crawl even before you saw the three young wolves chained near the far wall. Ethan could smell their fear. They were not prisoners, but potential pack initiates. It was the night before the most brutal test in their pack's history—the Moon Challenge.

Every year, young wolves between 16 and 18 competed for pack positions. Survival wasn't guaranteed. Some died. Some were permanently scarred. Some were banished.

Their father, Alpha Alexander Laurent, stood monitoring the potential initiates. Each candidate represented a potential asset or liability to the pack's future.

"Ethan," his father's voice cut through the room. "You'll oversee the first phase of testing tomorrow."

Ethan's stomach dropped. Testing? More like elimination.

In his head, a voice—small but insistent was screaming. How could this be on me? How could I be responsible for these people getting hurt? What kind of test was this? Something that might actually end with people being casualties?

But no one—absolutely no one talked back to Alpha Alexander Laurent. Not if they wanted to make it out in one piece

Riley caught her brother's eye. A quick, sharp nudge. Her message was crystal clear: Say something. Anything. But don't you dare stay silent.

Their father wasn't asking. Wasn't suggesting. This was a command disguised as a statement. The Laurent way.

Ethan swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he managed, the words feeling like sandpaper in his throat.

These initiates would fight. Brutally. Some would transform. Some would break. The Laurent pack didn't believe in mercy.

"Choose wisely," their father said. "The pack's future depends on your judgment."

His words crushed Ethan like a ton of bricks. He knew that even the slightest hesitation, the smallest misstep would come with consequences he couldn't afford.

He forced out a "Yes, sir," not because he meant it but because it was expected. The words left his mouth on instinct, a habit carved into him over the years

Alpha Alexander Laurent's steel-gray eyes bored into him, unblinking. Not a hint of pride. No approval. Just the cold, clinical look of a man dissecting a problem, calculating risks, deciding if his own son was one worth taking. To Alpha Alexander, Ethan wasn't a son. He was a tool. And tools were only useful until they broke.

Riley stood beside Ethan, her hands folded neatly in front of her. To anyone else, she looked composed and unshaken but Ethan knew better.

He could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her fingers trembled just a little. Small details no one else would catch. She was holding it together, but just barely. Because in the Laurent family, showing even a hint of weakness was unacceptable. Vulnerability wasn't just frowned upon. It was a death sentence.

Alpha Alexander took a step closer. "The first phase isn't about muscle," he said. "It's about leadership. It's about knowing when to save and when to sacrifice."

His hand landed on Ethan's shoulder, heavy and deliberate. The kind of touch that carried a message: Don't screw this up, or l'll make you regret being born.

"You do what's necessary," Alpha Alexander continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You understand what's expected of you."

Ethan nodded, his throat tight. He didn't trust himself to speak without messing up.

Alpha Alexander started walking out of the room. Halfway to the door, he stopped and turned to look at Riley.

Her head lifted instinctively, like prey caught in a predator's line of sight.

"Make yourself useful," he said sharply, his voice cold and dismissive before walking out without waiting for a response.

Riley didn't flinch, but Ethan saw the way her fingers curled into a fists at her side.