MIRABEL POV.
I walked into school, the hallways buzzing with the kind of excitement only Christmas could bring. Or rather, the chaos of the mandatory Christmas talent show. Let me emphasize “mandatory”—because every year, like clockwork, we were forced to perform something in front of the entire school. And by “perform,” I mean willingly embarrass ourselves in exchange for extra credit. It’s been five consecutive years of humiliation for me, yet somehow, people always seemed to love it.
The only upside to this? The Christmas ball came right after. Glittering lights, cheesy music, and fancy dresses were the grand finale before school closed for the holidays. Everyone treated it like a fairytale night except me. I was more interested in the two-week break that followed. No classmates who hated my existence, no passive aggressive teachers, just me, my bed, and Netflix. Bliss.
But before I could even think about escaping into holiday heaven, I had to survive the week of talent show auditions
I took a deep breath and pushed open the classroom door, ready to endure whatever horrors School had to offer. What greeted me? Chaos. And flowers. A lot of flowers. Bouquets practically swallowed my desk, and the whiteboard screamed my name in giant letters:
“PLEASE SAY YES, MIRABEL.”
Oh no. Not again.
I turned toward the usual suspects—the triplets. They were either plotting something or smack in the middle of it. But this time? Their expressions confused me. Damian looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, Noah’s curiosity practically sparkled, and Owen was leaning back, calm as a monk on a yoga retreat. Something was definitely up.
Before I could ask what this was about, a tall, athletic guy with a face straight out of a cologne commercial stepped in front of me. And then—wait for it—he knelt. Right there. One knee. Full dramatic flair.
And no, before you even ask, he didn’t pull out a ring. Instead, he boldly said, “Will you be my date to the Christmas ball?”
Uh. What?
I gawked, my brain buffering like a cheap Wi-Fi connection. “Uh… I… uh…” Smooth, Mira. Real smooth.
“You can’t ask her out!” Damian growled storming forward.
The stranger, completely unbothered, turned to face Damian, one eyebrow arched with all the arrogance of someone who just knew he was a heartthrob. “And why not, Alpha?”
Ah, the tension. You could practically cut it with a knife.
“Because you don’t go here, Silas!” Damian snapped, the veins in his neck threatening to pop.
Wait. Silas? Oh, that Silas—the soccer star of Brighton High. He and Damian had been rivals for years, competing in everything from sports to who could look more intense during a match. Every time our schools faced off, it was all anyone talked about for weeks.
Silas chuckled, smiling wildly. “Doesn’t matter. This year, both our schools are having a joint Christmas party. So, of course, I can ask Mira to be my date.”
“That’s not happening,” Damian bit out through clenched teeth.
“Actually,” Scott chimed in, holding up his phone, “it was announced this morning.” He flashed the screen, confirming Silas’s claim.
Damian’s jaw tightened. “She’s not going with you.”
Silas crossed his arms, biceps bulging like he lived at the gym. “And why not?”
“Because she’s my—” Damian stopped himself, taking a sharp breath before finishing, “Because she doesn’t want to.”
Silas turned back to me, his dazzling smile on full display. “Mira, would you like to be my date? Or are you too scared to offend a whining big baby?”
No one ever dared to insult Damian—at least, not to his face. But Silas did. He was Alpha-blooded, too, hailing from a rival pack and third in line to his family’s throne. His presence at our pack was a calculated peace offering. But at this moment? Silas seemed less like a peacekeeper and more like a ticking time bomb.
Silas turned back to me. “Please, Mirabel, do me the honor and be my Christmas date?”
Before I could answer, Damian scoffed loudly. “Don’t listen to him. He is an asshole.” Oh, the irony. The pot calling the kettle black was an understatement.
And maybe it was Damian’s audacity or the smug way Silas carried himself, but I made my decision. Flashing Silas with my sweetest smile, I said, “Yes, I will be your date.”
Damian’s sharp intake of breath was almost satisfying.
Silas grinned, leaning down to kiss my hand. “You won’t regret this, señorita.” Then, for good measure, he turned to Damian, whose fury was practically vibrating off him, and winked. “You’ve made an excellent choice,” he murmured before striding out of the classroom like he owned it.
Silas straightened and gave me one last charming look before walking out of the room, leaving me with Damian—practically vibrating with rage—Noah, who looked like he was solving a mystery, and Owen, who was too confused to say anything.
I made a mental note to ignore all three of them for the rest of the day. But before I could so much as sit down, Damian grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the classroom.
“Let me go!” I shouted, trying to free my hand, but he didn’t flinch. He dragged me down the hallway like I was some ragdoll until he found an empty classroom. He shoved the door open and practically threw me inside. I would have ended up on the floor if not for the desk behind me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled.
Damian didn’t even flinch. His gray eyes had already turned black, the telltale sign of his wolf surfacing. “No, I should be asking you that,” he thundered. “What are you trying to do?”
I blinked, thrown by his accusation. “Uh, what?”
“Don’t play dumb,” he hissed, stepping closer. “Are you trying to get back at me because I called you pathetic? Is that why you agreed to go with Silas? To humiliate me?”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You think this is about you?”
“Don’t lie to me,” Damian growled. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
I stepped forward, my anger bubbling to the surface. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is the big, bad Alpha feeling insecure? Are you so threatened by Silas that you think everything I do revolves around you?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously, but I wasn’t finished.
“Let me tell you something, Damian. Silas asked me out because he wanted to. Not because I begged, not because I was trying to prove anything to you, and certainly not because I give a damn about what you think of me. You don’t control me.”
“I don’t believe you,” Damian muttered, shaking his head.
I folded my arms, scoffing. “Of course you don’t. You can’t fathom someone actually liking me because you are too busy being a miserable, spoiled jerk. Your entire self-worth comes from tearing others down because, deep down, you know you are empty. You are just a spoiled nobody who’s so desperate for love that you lash out at anyone who won’t give it to you.”
Damian’s entire body tensed, his black eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare—”
“Or what?” I interrupted sharply. “Kill me? Hurt me? Go ahead, Damian. But it won’t fix the gaping hole inside of you. No matter how much you try to hurt people, it won’t make you feel whole. You are nothing but a big, mean bully.” I screamed at him, making sure to hurt him in the same way he had hurt me. I knew his fragile ego couldn’t take it, especially when he knew I was right.
In a flash, he grabbed a desk and hurled it against the wall next to me. I flinched as it splintered, shards of wood falling to the floor.
“Shut up! Shut up!” Damian roared, his voice almost unrecognizable as his claws extended and his body started shifting. His hair thickened, and his muscles bulged unnaturally. He was halfway to becoming his wolf, teetering on the edge of control.
Before I could react, he stormed toward me, his hand raised mid-air. For one terrifying moment, I thought he was going to hit me. But then he froze, his chest heaving as he wrestled with himself.
“Run,” he growled through clenched teeth, his voice rough and distorted. “Run away before I hurt you.”