The screech of the alarm cut through the heavy morning silence like a blade. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. I had never been a morning person, and today, my body felt strangely raw, humming with an unfamiliar, restless vibration.

I slapped the clock blindly, desperate to cling to a few more minutes of oblivion before my mother burst through the door.

But sleep was gone. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, until a sudden realization hit me like a jolt of lightning.

Our thirteenth birthday. The thought banished the last remnants of lethargy. I threw off the sheets and sprinted across the hallway in my bare feet, not even bothering to change out of my nightshirt. I hammered on the heavy oak door opposite mine with both fists.

"Valen! Wake up!"

The door swung open, and a low whistle escaped my lips. He stood there, rubbing his eyes groggily, but he was easily five inches taller than he had been last night. His shoulders had broadened overnight, the lean muscles of his chest defining themselves with brutal, sudden magic.

I glanced down at my own reflection in the hallway mirror—unaltered, petite, still trapped in childhood. Valen noticed my scowl and let out a gravelly chuckle.

"Girls don't face the shift until fifteen, Evadne. Trust me, you should be grateful. I didn't sleep a wink last night. Every bone in my body felt like it was breaking." He grimaced, a flash of phantom pain crossing his features, and I swatted his arm.

"That explains why you look like death," I teased. "But hurry up. Let’s go eat our cake."

We raced down the sweeping grand staircase, our competitive streaks blinding us to everything else until we skidded into the kitchen. We both ground to a halt. Our mother was waiting by the counter, her eyes glowing with warmth.

"Happy thirteenth birthday, my wolves!" she murmured, pulling us into a fierce embrace. But as her arms tightened, a low, involuntary growl vibrated from deep within Valen's chest. The sound was raw with primal dominance.

Our mother pulled back instantly, her eyes widening slightly. "He's still sore, dear," she said softly, turning to my father who had just stepped into the room. "The first transformation of a soon-to-be Alpha is always harsher."

I watched as my father’s face beamed with a rare, radiant pride. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed entirely on my brother. It didn't sting, not really. I had always known Valen was the favorite twin. The golden boy. The future leader.

"Where's the cake?" I piped up, eager to break the heavy atmosphere.

The stern look my parents shot me made me look down, heat blooming in my cheeks. Valen laughed, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulder and pulling me close. "What she meant to say, Mother, Father, is: may we please have our cake?"

I nodded rapidly, and our parents shook their heads in mock disappointment. "Alright, come on, you two."

We followed Mother to the counter, but as we drew closer, our smiles faded into confusion. Resting on the marble were two separate cakes. A rich, crimson Red Velvet and a rustic Carrot Cake. For as long as we could remember, we had always shared a single birthday cake.

"What?" Mother asked, her gaze shifting between our bewildered faces.

"Nothing, Mom," I muttered, shaking my head and tracing the frosted edges of the Red Velvet cake. A quiet, unsettling shift seemed to whisper through the room.

They sang the traditional birthday blessing, and we sliced the cakes. I loaded a plate with a piece of each and tried to slip quietly back toward the stairs.

"Evadne."

My father’s deep, authoritative baritone anchored me to the floorboards. I slowly turned around, summoning the sweetest smile I could muster. "Yes, Father?"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Did you eat a proper breakfast?"

Crap. Caught. I offered him a wicked smirk before spinning on my heel and bolting up the stairs.

"Evadne Cassandra!" his voice echoed behind me, but I was already slamming my bedroom door shut, leaning against it as my heart hammered.

Before I could even catch my breath, the brass doorknob began to turn. I held my breath, expecting my father to storm in, but the door cracked open to reveal Valen, balancing a plate of his own cake.

"You scared me half to death!" I gasped.

He just grinned, hopping onto my unmade bed and settling against the pillows. We ate in a comfortable, sacred silence that only twins could share, the tension of the house melting away.

"Alright, midget," Valen said eventually, wiping his mouth. "Time to get ready for school."

My jaw dropped. We had been the exact same height our entire lives, and now, after one midnight growth spurt, he was calling me short? "Whatever. I am perfect height for a Lycan girl my age."

I crossed my arms defensively. Valen chuckled, ruffling my chocolate-brown hair with a heavy hand before sliding off the bed and slipping out of the room.

I took a scalding shower, trying to wash away the strange restlessness humming beneath my skin. Standing in my closet, I threw my hands up in defeat. What did a thirteen-year-old wolf wear on her birthday? Our official pack celebration wasn’t for another two days, so I finally settled on a simple striped long-sleeved shirt and fitted jeans.

At my vanity, I brushed out my hair and quickly lined my dark blue eyes with a stroke of black eyeliner. Grabbing my backpack, I sprinted downstairs, expecting Valen to be waiting by the door.

Instead, only my mother stood there. "Ready, sweetie?"

"Where's Valen?" I asked, looking around the empty foyer.

"He isn't attending school today," a voice boomed from the stairs. My father walked down, his expression unreadable as he pressed a rare kiss to the top of my head. "Just a necessary precaution."

I didn't understand what precaution a thirteen-year-old needed, but I nodded quietly. A heavy weight settled in my stomach. I had never gone to school without my twin. We were a unit. We even caught the same fevers on the exact same days.

The drive to school felt hollow, and walking through the heavy double doors of the academy alone felt fundamentally wrong.

"Hey, why the long face?"

A soft voice broke my reverie. I looked up to see Morrigan smiling at me. She was my brother’s long-time, silent crush—and it was easy to see why. She had sleek, midnight-black hair cut into a sharp bob and the most striking, crystalline gray eyes. She was a little shorter than me, though I knew that would change once our puberty hit in two years.

"Valen’s not coming today," I sighed, slumping my shoulders.

Morrigan patted my back gently. "It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll survive eight hours without your bodyguard."

I offered a weak nod as we navigated the crowded hallways. But we hadn't even reached our lockers when it hit me.

A sharp, agonizing spasm ripped through my abdomen. It wasn't physical pain—it was an overwhelming, suffocating surge of pure, unadulterated fury. My vision blurred. A guttural, low growl tore from the depths of my throat, vibrating with a lethal intensity that echoed down the corridor.

Instantly, the bustling hallway fell dead silent. Students froze, staring at me in sheer terror. Morrigan gasped, dropping her hand from my arm and taking three hasty steps backward, her gray eyes wide with alarm.

I shook my head violently, clutching my temples as I fought to claw my way back to sanity. After a few agonizing seconds, the phantom anger vanished as abruptly as it had arrived, leaving me breathless. I hurried to my locker, desperate to hide before the warning bell rang.

Morrigan rushed up behind me, slamming her hand against the locker door. "What the hell was that, Evadne?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my hands trembling as I spun the lock. I genuinely had no answer. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and go home.

Morrigan sighed, leaning her shoulder against the cold metal. "Do you think... do you think it has something to do with Valen?"

I frozen. Now that Valen was thirteen, his mind-link had activated; he could communicate with the pack. I, however, was still locked in the silent dark of childhood. It twisted a bitter knot in my chest that females had to wait longer for their gifts.

Trying to shake off the dread, we hurried to our first-period class, where my brother's best friend was already seated.

"Evadne, are you alright?" Cian asked the moment I sat down. His brow was furrowed in deep concern. "I told Valen what happened through the link. He's panicking at home."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I'm fine. It was just a sudden surge of anger. And stop reporting my every move to him, Cian." I glared at him.

Cian raised his hands in a defensive surrender. He possessed the same rich brown hair as Valen and me, a trait that often made humans mistake him for our cousin. But where Valen wore his hair loose and short, Cian kept his in a severe, military buzz cut that matched his intense sea-green eyes.