Skating on thin ice

The first thing you should know about me is that I have spent seventeen years as the world's least impressive consolation prize.

My brother Lucien arrived first, screaming like he was already giving orders. The full moon was out. The elders felt his wolf before he even took his first breath. Golden eyes. Perfect lungs. Future alpha material.

Then I showed up.

The room went quiet. Silver white hair. Pale eyes. Skin so light I looked like I had been assembled in the dark. Some elder whispered "cursed," which was rude, but also fair.

I have never shifted. Not once. No claws, no fangs, no wolf. Just me and my spectacular inability to meet expectations.

Moonfang Pack has two alpha twins. Correction. Moonfang Pack has an alpha twin and whatever defective thing came attached to him.

Moonfang Manor is exactly as miserable as it sounds.

Everything is expensive wood and polished stone, but somehow it is freezing year round. The walls have heard every whispered insult about me. The dining table seats twenty, but I have never felt smaller than sitting at the far end while my father talks to Lucien and around me.

"The scouts confirmed Nationals," Alpha Dominic announced at breakfast, not even glancing my way.

Lucien straightened up. "Coach thinks we have a shot."

"You will not embarrass Moonfang."

"I know, Dad."

I stabbed my eggs and considered spontaneous combustion.

Selene Vale, my mother technically, noticed my hood was down. "At least cover your hair outside."

Because the silver strands are the problem. Not the part where I am basically a werewolf without the wolf. Priorities.

I pulled my hood up. "Happy?"

She walked away without answering.

Lucien kicked my foot under the table. I kicked back harder. He almost smiled.

That is the thing about my brother. He is never cruel to me. Never joins the whispers or the sidelong glances. He just exists on the other side of an invisible wall. Caring from a distance. It is almost worse than outright hostility.

Blackthorne Heights Academy saved my life.

Not dramatically. No heroic rescues. Just a building full of humans who do not know Alpha Dominic Vale has two sons. As far as they know, Lucien is an only child at some fancy private school, and I am just some guy with insomnia.

It is beautiful.

"JEFF!"

Anna Brooks slammed into me before I made it through the gates. I hit the pavement hard.

"You are insane," I wheezed.

"And yet here you are. Every day. Almost like you like me."

"I question that decision constantly."

She grinned like a maniac.

Maxwell jogged up behind her, carrying an obscene amount of snacks and a hockey magazine. "You look terrible."

"Thank you. Truly. My self esteem was getting dangerously high."

"I am serious. Your face screams a tragic backstory."

"You read too many comics."

Ella fell into step beside Alex, studying me a second too long. "You did not sleep again."

I shrugged. Sleeping is overrated anyway.

The rooftop was our spot. Windy, slightly illegal, and perfect. Maxwell handed me a bag of chips. "Okay, real question. If you had to fight one horse sized duck or a hundred duck sized horses, what would you pick?"

"That is the question you have been saving all morning?"

"It is important."

Anna snorted. "He has been texting me about this since midnight."

"A hundred duck sized horses," I said. "Easily. They cannot coordinate. The horse sized duck would kill me instantly."

"Finally, someone with sense," Maxwell said. "Ella said she would try to befriend the giant duck."

Ella shrugged. "Diplomacy is valid."

"Diplomacy with a monster duck," Alex said flatly. "You would last three seconds."

"You do not know that."

"I know you cried at a squirrel last week."

"That squirrel looked suspicious."

I laughed. Actually I laughed. It felt foreign in my throat.

These moments still caught me off guard. My friends treated me like I was normal. No curses. No bloodlines. No failed shifts. Just Jeffery.

It was terrifying, honestly. Because I had something to lose now.

"Okay, next question," Maxwell said, leaning forward. "Be honest. On a scale from one to ten, how much does your family actually like you?"

Anna kicked him. "Max."

"What? We are all thinking about it."

I considered lying. Then I looked at their faces. Genuine. Curious. Safe.

"Negative three," I said. "Maybe negative four on a good day."

Ella's expression softened. "That bad?"

"My mother told me to cover my hair so I would not embarrass them at breakfast. My father has spoken to me exactly seven words today. I counted."

"Seven words?" Alex said. "That is brutal."

"Seven generous words. Most days I get zero."

Anna put her hand on my shoulder. "For the record, we would give you at least a seven."

"A seven?" I raised an eyebrow. "Only seven?"

"Eight if you share your chips."

I tossed her the bag. "Bribery works on me. Tragic, I know."

Maxwell pretended to write something down. "The subject is emotionally neglected but easily bought with snacks. Fascinating."

"You are all terrible friends."

"And yet," Anna said, "you are smiling."

She was right. I was.

The conversation shifted to Nationals, which meant Roland Hayes.

"Northfang is winning," Maxwell declared. "Roland Hayes exists. End of discussion."

Ella sighed dreamily. "He is so attractive."

"He looks like he has committed at least three felonies," Anna argued.

"Both can be true."

Alex pulled up an interview. Roland Hayes stood outside an arena, dark haired and terrifyingly calm. The reporter asked about rivals.

"Moonfang is not a concern," Roland said.

Maxwell clutched his chest. "Iconic."

I looked away. Something twisted in my chest. Instinct. Warning. I did not know which.

And then the rooftop lights flickered.

Everyone froze.

"That was weird," Maxwell said. "Right? That was weird."

The lights flickered again. A cold breeze swept through, raising goosebumps on my arms.

"Probably just a power surge," Alex said, but he did not sound convinced.

Anna turned to me. "Jeff? You look pale. Paler than usual. Which is impressive."

I could not answer. Because something was happening outside.

I walked to the edge of the rooftop. My friends followed. The sky had changed.

Dark clouds gathered above the school, moving faster than they should. They swirled like something was pushing them, pulling them, shaping them.

"Okay," Maxwell said slowly. "That is not normal."

Anna grabbed my sleeve. "Jeff, what is going on?"

"Jeffery."

A whisper. Right in my ear. I spun around. No one was there.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

"Hear what?" Ella said. "You are scaring me."

I turned back to the sky. The clouds were parting.

Not slowly. Not naturally. They ripped open like curtains being pulled aside, and the light that spilled through was wrong. Too bright. Too silver. Too cold.

The moon. It had appeared in the middle of the daylight sky. Full. Massive. Pulsing. And it was staring directly at me.

"Jeffery," the whisper came again. Louder this time. Closer.

My friends were saying something. Anna was shaking my arm. Maxwell was backing away.

I could not hear them. The clouds continued to open. The moon kept pulsing.

And somewhere in the distance, I heard tires screaming on the highway. Metal twisting. Glass shattering. Then silence.

The clouds opened fully. The moon bathed everything in silver light. And I knew. Something terrible had just happened.