The Millennium Wolves Book 7

“Alpha Mercer-Norwood?”

My eyes snapped open. I was sitting in the hallway outside the Posey Hotel’s banquet hall. A young intern with a clipboard peered at me nervously.

“Sorry to bother you, but they’re ready for you onstage.”

“Thank you.” I shook my head, blinking to clear the vision from my mind.

The haze was just around the corner; it always made me feel the memory of Aiden more strongly.

Still, the show must go on. I steadied myself, then strode into the hall and onto the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your very own alpha, Sienna Mercer-Norwood!” a voice called out over the speaker.

Lights flashed as hundreds of audience members held up their phones to record the night’s events.

I smiled brightly into the cameras, taking my place behind the podium.

“Thank you everyone. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

After ten years of leading the East Coast Pack as alpha, I’d finally gotten used to media attention, even if I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable in the spotlight.

“We are here to honor a man who has dedicated his life to advancing education,” I said into the microphone.

“Principal Patrick Guyotte has been a shining example to the people of Mahiganote. For over fifteen years, he has worked tirelessly to ensure that our children receive the best education possible.”

Applause rang out, and I joined in. Behind me, Principal Guyotte waved modestly, dimples flashing in his cheeks.

He was tall and handsome, with wavy dark blond hair and a square jaw.

I turned back to the audience. “I am pleased to present Principal Guyotte with this lifetime achievement award!”

The applause grew louder.

Principal Guyotte shook my hand, and I gave him the stage, happy to be out of the limelight.

Or as out of the limelight as I could possibly be—given that I was the only female alpha in the history of the ECP.

Not to mention one of the only known werewolves to survive the death of their mate.

My heart spasmed. Aiden’s absence remained an open wound.

The principal took the podium.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said. “But this award doesn’t really belong to me. It belongs to all of our hardworking students.”

He continued with a wink, “Although, I probably have more homework every day than they do.”

Everyone chuckled politely.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to thank—”

The door to the hall burst open. A man entered, wearing an orange trucker hat.

Clutched in his hands was a black pistol.

People began screaming and knocking over tables.

From my seat on the stage, I could see the crazed look in the man’s eyes.

“You bastard!” he screamed, his voice a ragged sob. “I’ll make you pay!”

He aimed the pistol at Principal Guyotte, who stood frozen in fear.

My clothing exploded into shreds as I shifted into my fiery red wolf. Before the man could pull the trigger, I launched myself at him.

As I hit him with all four paws, the gun fired into the ceiling.

“No!” he shouted. “I have to make it right!”

Other wolves were shifting now, protecting the humans. He scrambled up, away from me.

I snarled at the man.

He aimed his gun at Guyotte again, who flinched backward. I dove at the gunman.

With a crack, his gun went off, the bullet whizzing past my shoulder.

I landed on my feet, growling fiercely, and began to circle him.

Tears streamed down his face.

I shifted back into my human form. If I could contain this guy, no one had to get hurt.

Two towering bamboo trees flanked the banquet hall door.

Summoning my deity abilities, I focused my energy on the plants, feeling their life force flow through my hands.

Thin, whiplike roots rose up and raced toward the gunman. He stumbled backward in horror as they began to wind up his calves.

The man cast a hate-filled glance at the principal. I tensed, waiting for him to raise the gun.

And he did, but not in the direction I was anticipating.

He pressed the barrel against his temple.

“No!” I cried.

The man slumped lifelessly to the floor.

“What was going through your head when you rushed at the gunman?”

The following morning, Kelly O’Kenna and her cameraman were waiting for me at the pack house.

“Not much, really,” I answered honestly. “I saw someone pointing a gun at innocent people, and I reacted.”

I shivered in the brisk winter air.

“Well, from all of us here at Pack News, let me say again how grateful Mahiganote is to you, Alpha Mercer-Norwood,” Kelly chirped.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Umm, of course. Will you excuse me? I have to take this.”

“Of course. Thank you, my Alpha.” She and her cameraman trailed off down the hall, and I headed to my office.

It was all over the news:

And all over Yapper:

The bell sounded, signaling the beginning of first period.

Everyone was talking about my mom’s thrilling rescue at the previous day’s ceremony.

“She’s so cool. I want to be just like her.”

“And have your mate die when you’re only twenty-five? No thanks.”

“I heard she only survived because she’s some kind of supercharged freak.”

“I guess being a weirdo runs in the family.”

“Maybe…but he’s not even her real kid.”

“Really?”

“Oh my God, don’t you know?”

I buried my nose in my notebook, my pen working furiously.

The voices flowed around me as if I didn’t exist.

Sometimes I wondered if that was true.

Mr. Timmins, the science teacher, came in.

“Okay class, let’s all demonstrate some maturity as we begin our unit on sexual education.”

A series of snickers from the back confirmed the futility of his request. Mr. Timmins rolled his eyes, unfurled the projector screen, and dimmed the lights before starting the video.

In it a guy wearing a paisley shirt and yellow bell-bottoms was talking about the changes our bodies would soon undergo.

We all knew what was coming.

The haze.

The time of year when every werewolf experiences a sexual awakening.

Having reached the age of sixteen, my classmates and I were facing our first haze. It would consume us whenever it struck—and it could strike at any moment.

“In addition to the regular effects of the haze,” Disco Pants continued, “many young werewolves also experience ‘puberty-haze,’ which can cause unexpected mood swings and feelings of intense arousal.”

Someone laughed and threw a paper ball at the screen.

“Who was that?” Mr. Timmins demanded.

No one answered.

“Young werewolves should always remember to be prepared, as these feelings can have unintended consequences,” Disco Pants droned on.

“This is such bullshit,” a voice whispered from behind me. “Right?”

I tensed. Since my cousin Vanessa was away in California, pretty much no one had spoken to me all year.

I turned in my seat to see Lucas Jung, one of the stars of the school wrestling team, looking at me.

He hadn’t lived in Mahiganote very long, and I’d never really talked to him before.

I’d always figured he was another douchebag jock.

Lucas gave a short nod, then leaned on one elbow and continued laughing at Brad Bowers, a shaggy-haired guy also wearing a wrestling jacket, who was scrunching another page of his notebook into a ball.

Next to him was Ava Milton. Her dark brown hair was drawn back into a ponytail, and her lips were coated in pink gloss.

Her tongue flicked out to wet those shiny lips, and a surge of heat rushed over me.

I imagined leaning forward and pressing my mouth against Ava’s.

“Whatcha lookin’ at weirdo?” Brad said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

He hurled the paper ball at my face.

I ducked, and it went sailing over my head to hit Mr. Timmins in the forehead.

The whole class froze in stunned silence.

“Rowan Norwood!” The teacher looked as surprised as anyone.

Brad began watching the sex-ed video as if it were the most interesting thing he’d seen in weeks.

“On your feet, please.” Mr. Timmins jabbed a finger at me.

“But—”

“Now, Mr. Norwood!” He paused the video, stopping Disco Pants midsentence.

Someone giggled nervously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ava watching me.

At least she wasn’t laughing at me.

I scrambled out of my desk.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Norwood?” the teacher asked. His pudgy cheeks were red with rage.

“No, Mr. Timmins. I was just—”

“Just trying to disrupt my class.”

“No! I…” My voice trailed off as I heard the subtle sound of cracking knuckles behind me.

Mr. Timmins folded his arms over his chest. “Can you manage to get through the rest of the video without incident, or do you need to visit Principal Guyotte?”

I blinked. “What…?”

“I said, do you need to visit the principal?” Mr. Timmins reddened as he grew angrier.

I shook my head. “No, sir. What I was trying to say is—”

There it was again. A flash of someone standing next to my science teacher.

The shape of a man. Tall, with broad shoulders.

The shape flickered again.

It looked right at me.

“What the fuck!?” I shouted, stumbling backward.

The side of my knee hit my desk and I fell hard onto the chair.

“Mr. Norwood! I’ve had enough of this!” the teacher said.

But I only had eyes for the ghostly figure. It shimmered in and out of focus.

Icy fear flooded my veins. I tried to escape to the other side of my desk, but my feet got tangled up, launching me face-first into Brad Bowers.

“What the hell!” With a noise of disgust, he shoved me away.

The specter held out a translucent hand, as if beckoning me.

“NO!” I shouted, still reeling from Brad’s shove.

I spun as I fell, one elbow swinging wide.

“OUCH!” Ava cried as I smashed her in the nose. She clutched her hands to her face, blood seeping through her fingers.

“I’m…I’m so sorry!”

The whole class was in an uproar.

“Principal’s office!” thundered Mr. Timmins.

Next to him, the ghostly figure flickered out.

My heart pounded with fear and amazement.

I’d gotten a good look at its face.

Dark hair.

Green-gold eyes.

Sharp cheekbones.

The face of my father.

Aiden Norwood.