The sun had barely risen, casting pale golden light through the kitchen window, but the quintuplets were already gathered around the table, faces drawn with tension. It was their eighteenth birthday—a day every werewolf looked forward to. Shifting for the first time was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage. Today, they should have been buzzing with excitement, ready to face a day full of congratulations and admiration at school.
But nothing felt right. Nothing felt normal.
Opal sat stiffly in her chair, her fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white. Her heart raced, her thoughts swirling. She was supposed to be the Alpha. She was the oldest. The firstborn. The leader. But she didn't feel ready. Not even close. And Ash... Ash hated her for it.
