Traveling abroad was the best idea Mom could come up with after the divorce. It was like she wanted to escape everything— the memories, the arguments, the house where it had all started and ended. And maybe she also wanted us to think about something else besides how quiet home had become.

  "We need a fresh start," she had said, snapping the suitcase shut with a firm click. "And Canada is perfect for Christmas."

  It was early morning, and the streets of Miami were still dark when we got in the car. Mom was driving, and the front seat was silent. She looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and hair that was usually perfectly curled now hastily thrown up in a ponytail. Her pale knitted sweater hung loosely on her shoulders, like she'd been wearing it for days. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road, yet they had a distant, glassy look—like her mind was somewhere far away.

  Katty and I sat in the backseat, surrounded by suitcases, a half-empty candy bag, and three different jackets we weren't sure we'd need. She had her legs pulled up, messy light-blonde hair in a loose braid, and eyes sparkling with irritation—big, blue, and as dramatic as she was. She was small and wiry, with freckles across her nose and a look that always seemed ready for battle.

  I stared out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. A tropical Christmas had always been our normal—now we were heading for snow, cold, and relatives we barely remembered the names of. My reflection flickered in the glass—long, dark hair tucked behind one ear, cheeks pale in the glow of the streetlights. I looked older than I felt.

  "This is so unfair," Katty suddenly muttered, crossing her arms.

  I sighed. "What now?"

  "You always get the window seat. I'm just saying we flip a coin this time."

  "We already did. And I won."

  "You cheated."

  Mom sighed deeply. "Can you two at least wait to start fighting until we get to security?"

  Silence fell again—if only for a few seconds. Then it started back up:

  "And you snore," Katty snapped.

  "I do not!"

  "You do so. You woke me up the other night. I thought it was an earthquake."

  Mom slapped her hand on the steering wheel. "Okay, new rule: no one talks until we've checked in the bags!"

  When we finally reached the airport, things actually went fairly smoothly. Check-in, security, boarding. But as soon as we boarded the plane, the battle for the window seat started again.

  I got there first, as usual, and tossed my bag onto the seat before Katty could react.

  "Tracy! Move! You always get the window seat let me have it for once!"

  "I deserve the seat."

  She stared at me like she wanted to tear me apart. I noticed some passengers were already glancing our way. It was always like this. Wherever we went, we somehow made a scene.

  Katty sat down next to me, mumbling something I couldn't hear. I held my breath and looked out the window. The engines roared to life, and we started moving.

  Mom tossed one final "act like teenagers, not five-year-olds" over her shoulder. Then we lifted off.

  The flight was calm at first. We got food, watched a movie I've already forgotten, and even Katty stayed quiet – a miracle in itself.

  But halfway through, the plane started to shake.

  At first it was just a slight bump. I barely noticed – thought it was just regular turbulence. But soon the lights started flickering, and the flight attendants suddenly didn't look so calm.

  "Mom, what's happening?" Katty whispered, grabbing her arm.

  My stomach started to twist. It got worse – much worse. The plane jolted like it had been hit by an invisible hand. Drink carts toppled, trays flew, and someone in the back screamed.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," the captain's voice began over the intercom, but it cut off with static. "We are experiencing severe turbulence. Please fasten your seatbelts. We're trying to climb to a safer altitude."

  I looked out the window – and there it was. Mount Logan. A massive, snow-covered wall of stone and ice reaching toward the sky like it wanted to swallow us whole.

  Then – the big hit.

  The plane lurched. Lights flickered out. The engines roared. We dropped.

  All I remember is holding Katty's hand so tightly that mine went numb, and Mom yelling something that disappeared in the noise.

  And then – darkness.

  Darkness. Smoke. Something heavy on my chest.

  I blinked. My eyes burned. A strange metallic smell filled my nose – smoke, burnt plastic, blood.

  The first thing I felt was pain in my leg. A sharp, pulsing agony like someone had jammed a knife into my knee. I tried to move, but something was pinning me – a seat or part of the cabin. Everything was tilted.

  "Katty?" My voice was so hoarse I barely heard it. "Katty!"

  I turned toward the crackling sound and immediately felt my body scream in protest. There she was – motionless, blood on her forehead. Panic bloomed inside me. She wasn't moving.

  "Mom!" I screamed. A scream that sliced through the eerie silence after the crash. The smoke made it hard to breathe. I could just barely make her out farther down the cabin. Trapped. Head slumped forward. Blood. So much blood.

  I wanted to give up. Just stop breathing, stop feeling – it was too much. No one would find us out here. We were in the middle of nowhere.

  But then I heard something.

  Not people.

  Not a rescue team.

  Paws.

  Barely audible, but clear in the snow. Something scratched at the plane's fuselage—a squealing sound that cut through the silence like a knife. I froze.

  At first, I thought it was help—someone trying to get in. But it sounded wrong. Too smooth. Too delicate.

  Then came the steps. Not heavy boots. Quick, precise movements. Soft pads gliding across the metal with a certainty that made my blood freeze.

  "Please..." I whispered, though no one could hear.

  The cockpit door creaked, forced open – then slammed against the wall. Smoke swirled, and there... there they were.

  Dark silhouettes.

  Four legs.

  Low bodies against the floor.

  Golden eyes glowing in the firelight from the back of the plane.

  One, two... five... maybe more. Wolves.

  They came in slowly. Silently. Like they knew exactly what they were looking for.

  I held my breath. My leg was screaming, but I didn't move. Not a millimeter.

  One walked past just a meter from me. It stopped at a seat ahead, sniffed the body lying there, and moved on. Another began tugging at someone's jacket sleeve.

  I felt a cold breath against my cheek – one of them was right in front of me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Played dead. Please, please, let me be dead.

  The paws crunched in the snow inside the cabin. Sniff. Sniff.

  It nosed me. Pressed its cold snout to my cheek. Held it there.

  I wanted to scream, but my tongue was a rock in my mouth. All I could do was blink away the tears burning behind my eyelids.

  Then... something unexpected.

  The wolf nudged me gently. Not aggressively, more like... a wake-up call? A test.

  Then another wolf came. And another.

  They started pulling at my clothes. One gently took my sleeve in its teeth and pulled. I wanted to hit, scream, run. But I couldn't do anything. Just lie still.

  They pulled me out. I felt something release – the seat pinning my leg. The pain eased a little, replaced by burning cold. The snow stung my skin like fire.

  I was outside the plane.

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  And they... had saved me?

  I barely had time to think. Should I run? Scream?

  The wolves formed a circle around me. Their breath steamed in the cold air. One of them – larger than the rest, black as night – stepped forward and looked at me.

  I met its gaze. It looked at me like it knew who I was.

  A moment later came a deep rumble from inside the plane.

  VRAAAAMM!!!

  The explosion shattered the silence like a scream from hell. Heat from the fire hit me like a wall. The shockwave threw me backward – I flew through the air, felt the world spin, twist, disappear.

  The last thing I saw was the black wolf leaping over me at the very last second. Not to attack.

  To protect.

  The sun's rays filtered through the branches and hit my face. I squinted, tried to open my eyes, but the light was too bright.

  The snow beneath me was cold and damp, but I could breathe. I was alive.

  I took a deep breath. The forest smelled fresh—earth, pine, smoke. I lay still, unable to grasp what had happened. The explosion, the wolves... Katty... Mom...

  A voice.

  Low, whispering.

  "She's waking up."

  I sat up abruptly—or tried to. A sharp pain shot through my back and I fell back with a gasp.

  And that's when I saw them.

  Not wolves.

  Guys?

  Eight young men sat around me in the snow. Some were lying on the ground, snoring. Others spoke in low voices. They weren't wearing shirts—just leather pants, like something out of a movie.

  I screamed.

  A scream from my gut, wild and primal. I tried to get up, but a weight pushed me back down. One of them, with dark hair and an intense gaze, held me down.

  "Stop flailing, we're trying to help you!"

  "Let me go!" I screamed. "Who are you?! What do you want from me?!"

  "I told you this would happen," another one sighed. "She's panicking. Understandably, but still."

  "Are you sure it's her?" a third asked in a low voice.

  The first one lifted his gaze and answered, but it wasn't a simple reply. His voice was low, almost respectful.

  "It's her. The only one who survived the crash. None of the other bodies showed any signs of life. No pulse, no breath. But she..."

  He paused for a second and looked down at me, almost like he didn't fully believe it himself.

  "She was breathing. In the middle of all that—fire, smoke, blood—she was... whole. Sacra said we'd find someone. Someone chosen. And here we are."

  He stood slowly, letting his eyes sweep across the group.

  "She wasn't spared by chance. She was chosen."

  I lay in the snow, still half paralyzed. Everything felt surreal. The pain in my leg, the cold on my skin, the voices around me—it all felt like a strange, distorted dream.

  One of the boys stepped forward. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with jet-black hair that fell into his forehead and eyes as dark as the forest behind him. There was something in his voice that silenced the others—a weight, a natural authority that didn't need to be loud to be felt.

  "My name is Rex," he said quietly but firmly. "And this is my pack."

  He swept his gaze over the group that surrounded me.

  "Will."

  The guy he meant locked eyes with me immediately—not threatening, but assessing. He was lean and toned, with a presence that felt sharp in the air around him. His dark brown hair was messy, falling across one temple, and his eyes were alert, watchful. Everything about his posture—upright, controlled, nearly tense—radiated pride, authority, and maybe a hint of irritation. He didn't say a word, but I could tell he thought this was a mistake.

  "Luc."

  A guy with a cocky stance and his hands deep in his pockets. His sandy blond hair looked effortlessly tousled, though it was clear effort had gone into it. He gave a quick, crooked grin, and I couldn't tell if it was charm or mockery. His pale green eyes lingered on me a second too long.

  "Gus."

  He looked older than the others—not physically, but in his gaze. There was a calm seriousness to him, like he'd seen things the others hadn't. His skin was dark, his eyes deep and reflective, and his closely cropped black hair gave him an almost soldier-like appearance. He nodded politely, like someone used to keeping his distance.

  "Sate."

  Quiet, arms crossed over his chest, standing straight as if something inside him refused to relax. His chestnut brown hair was short on the sides and longer on top, and his eyes—gray with a hint of blue—moved from me to Rex and back again, as if weighing every little detail.

  "Wics."

  He said nothing. He just looked at me—slowly, as if trying to memorize my face. His long jet-black hair framed his pale skin, and a faint twitch in his jaw betrayed an effort to stay neutral. His eyes were a pale, icy blue—not cold in expression, but in color. Almost glowing.

  "Nick."

  Leaning against a tree, relaxed on the surface, but his tensed hands gave him away. His dark curls fell loosely over his forehead, and his eyes were constantly moving—alert, scanning. He looked like someone who was always expecting something to go wrong. And had already planned what to do when it did.

  "And that's Sac."

  I barely registered the name before my eyes locked onto him. He sat a bit farther back—not outside the group, but not in the center either. His soft features were calm, almost cautious. His dark blond hair curled loosely around his ears, and when his eyes met mine, they held no barrier. They were warm. Safe. Somehow, I just knew—if anyone here would understand, it was him.

  I didn't know why, but something about his presence made me breathe a little easier.

  He didn't smile.

  But he looked at me like I wasn't just "the one who survived"—but someone who needed to be understood.

  I tore my eyes away from Sac when I realized I'd been staring too long. Something about him unsettled me—not in a bad way, more like... he saw something in me that I didn't even know was there.

  "Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You've introduced yourselves. But you still haven't explained what the hell is going on. You were... wolves. I saw it. You pulled me out of the plane."

  Some of the guys shifted uncomfortably. Luc grinned like he found my bluntness entertaining. Wics looked down at the ground.

  Will let out a loud sigh. "Do we really have to go through all this now, Rex? She won't believe us anyway."

  "She deserves to know," Rex replied calmly, without looking at him.

  Will turned his head toward me. His gaze was sharp, intense, almost like my very presence provoked him.

  "You saw us. But what you saw was just part of the truth. We're not just wolves. We're werewolves. Born this way—not bitten. There's a difference."

  I stared at him. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  "Werewolves?" I repeated quietly. "That's just... that's just fairy tales. Horror movies."

  Sac stepped in, his tone gentler. "We know it's a lot to take in. But it's true. You've seen it yourself."

  Will raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He seemed content letting Sac take the softer approach. Will himself seemed to prefer the truth harsh and unfiltered, no matter how it was received.

  "So..." I began slowly, eyes shifting between them, "what does this have to do with me? What do you want from me?"

  Rex spoke again, serious. "According to Sacra—our leader,she said we'd find you here. You're not here by accident. We need you."

  "Why?" I whispered. "What could I possibly do?"

  "You can help us break the curse," said Rex. "Sacra saw you in a vision. She said you were the key—the one who could lead us to our inner selves. And find a way out of this hell."

  I stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

  "What does that even mean?" I asked. "How could I help you? I'm just... a girl who happened to survive a pla—"

  "No," Will interrupted sharply. "You're not just someone who survived. No ordinary human would've lived through that."

  I fell silent. Will took a step forward, and suddenly I felt the air shift.

  "You should be dead," he continued. "But you were breathing. You were lying there in the smoke, in the wreckage, whole. We felt it. You carry something inside you. Something different."

  "So what, I'm some kind of werewolf now too?" I asked, half ironic, half afraid it wasn't a joke.

  Rex answered before anyone else could. "Not yet. But something inside you has awakened. And it won't stay silent much longer."

  I stared at them, my breath shallow. I didn't want to hear more. Didn't want to be part of their madness.

  But something in me already knew the truth.

  I remembered how the wolf had thrown itself over me just before the plane exploded. How I hadn't gotten a single scratch.

  I didn't know what they wanted—but I knew they were right.

  And still... I no longer knew what was real. Their words spun in my head, but none of it stuck. Werewolves. Curses. I was the key. It was all too much.

  Maybe they weren't lying. But what did it matter? I couldn't stay here. Not with them.

  I let my gaze sweep over the group. They were talking quietly now, probably thinking I was too shocked to do anything.

  Perfect.

  I stood up suddenly—my leg screamed in protest, but I ignored it. Turned and ran. The snow was deep, but adrenaline pushed me forward. Behind me I heard voices—someone shouting my name, someone cursing—but I didn't stop.

  The trees were close. I was almost there.

  Then—a sound. A quick swish through the snow. A shadow moved fast.

  Suddenly—an arm around my waist.

  I screamed, flailed, kicked wildly. We fell backward into the snow, I landed with a thud, gasping, heart pounding in my ears.

  "Let me go!" I yelled. "Don't touch me!"

  "Tracy! Calm down!" Will's voice was right in my ear. He held me down, but not roughly—just enough to stop me.

  I clawed at him, kicked at his legs, but he barely moved. He was strong. Way too strong.

  "I'm not staying here!" I hissed. "You're all insane!"

  "You can't just run into the forest!" he snapped. "Not here. You have no idea what's out there."

  "Better than being with you!" I growled.

  He fell silent.

  For a moment, he met my gaze—not angry, not irritated. Just... tired.

  "You think we're the enemy. I get that," he said quietly. "But you have no idea what's waiting for you out there alone."

  His eyes held mine. Something in me paused. There was something there—something I hadn't expected.

  A glimpse of vulnerability behind his anger.

  Like he... cared. Even if he didn't want to.

  I lay there a while, breathing hard. Will stood slowly, like he trusted I wouldn't run again.

  And he was right.

  But not because I was convinced.

  Because I was exhausted.

  He looked at me one last time, briefly, without a word.

  Then he turned and walked back to the others.

  I hated that I wanted to understand him.

  And I hated that it felt like he already understood me.

  Suddenly, the sound of snapping twigs—and the other guys appeared through the trees. Their gazes shifted between me and Will.

  "Is everything okay?" Rex asked, a worried tone in his voice.

  Will nodded. "She lost her breath, but she's better now."

  Luc looked at me with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. "We shouldn't stay here too long."

  Rex agreed. "We need to move before the patrols start looking for survivors."

  I tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through my foot. I gritted my teeth and tried again, but it was useless.

  "She can barely walk," Will said, looking at me with concern.

  Rex sighed. "We'll take turns carrying her. We don't have time to stop."

  Will stepped forward and bent down. "I'll carry you."

  I wanted to protest, but the pain in my foot was too much. I nodded weakly and let him lift me.

  With me in his arms, the group began to move through the forest, away from the crash site and into the unknown.

  We continued walking through the snow-covered woods, and I felt fatigue begin to take over. Will still carried me, and despite everything that had happened, I couldn't help but feel a certain safety in his presence.

  After a while, the group stopped at a clearing where they decided to make camp for the night. Will gently set me down on a rock while the others began gathering wood and branches to start a fire and create sleeping spots.

  I watched as Gus, Sate, and Luc went off to look for a nearby stream to fetch water. I asked Sate why they didn't just melt snow, and he told me Gus hated snow and refused to drink anything that didn't come from a natural water source.

  Sac stayed with me, and we sat together in the cold silence. I tried to keep warm with my thin jacket, but the chill crept in. Sac noticed I was freezing and handed me a warm jacket from his bag.

  "Here, take this."

  "But what about you?" I asked, surprised.

  He smiled. "I'll be fine. You're more important right now, and we don't want you getting sick."

  I gratefully accepted the jacket and felt warmth spread through my body.

  After a moment, Sac broke the silence. "I'm sorry about what happened to your sister and your mom."

  His words caught me off guard, and I felt a lump form in my throat. "The worst part is that my dad probably thinks I'm dead too."

  Sac looked down. "I'm sorry for what we've caused, but I promise you'll get to go home as soon as the curse is broken."

  Before I could reply, Will's voice came from behind us. "Don't give her false hope, Sac. We don't know how to break it."

  Sac responded calmly. "I'm only telling the truth. When the curse is broken, she can return."

  Will raised an eyebrow. "It's Sacra who decides what happens to her, not us."

  I said nothing. Instead, I turned my gaze to the fire in front of us, watching as it slowly caught, casting its orange glow over the snow and warming my cold fingers.

  I felt uncertainty grow within me. Even though I knew who Sacra was, the curse they spoke of remained a mystery. What did it actually mean? Why was I needed?

  Night quietly fell over the forest. The guys spoke softly among themselves, and eventually, the only sound left was the crackling of the fire.

  I lay awake for a long time, wrapped in Sac's jacket, my eyes fixed on the glittering night sky.

  Despite everything that had happened – the accident, their secrets, their strange transformations – I felt an unexpected sense of connection with them. Maybe it was the warmth of the fire, or maybe because they were the only people I had left right now.

  And in the midst of all the confusion, anger, and sorrow, I knew one thing for certain:

  My journey with them had only just begun.