"What's happening?" I ask with a tremor in my voice of no one in particular.

We're all still in a circle around the fire and Clayton has almost completed his transformation. Gemma is just standing next to him, dumbfounded.

"You know the rules, traitor!" Spencer yells at her before anyone decides to answer me. "Call your wolf or he will tear you limb from limb."

Still in denial, she scoffs. "You must be joking. Surely if you all just thought about this for a minute—"

Clayton's wolf bares its razor sharp teeth at her and growls, shutting Gemma up.

"Does it look like he's joking?" Spencer asks, smugly crossing his arms.

"Okay. Okay. But don't say I didn't give you a chance to change your mind," she says as she unzips her jacket and throws it aside. After kicking off her boots, she raises her hands in front of her face. The fingers are already starting to elongate and grow fur. "And I just bought these jeans, too. Do you know how much Rouje denim goes for?"

No one seems to care about price of the clothes that is ripping off Gemma's expanding shanks and I glance at Galina.

"What is Clayton going to do to her?" I ask again.

"Other than death, there's two ways to leave a pack: you can either be let out with a nice little sword ceremony and maybe even a going away prezzie or you can be chased out. Not many people are stupid enough to warrant the latter," she says with a smirk.

It's pretty obvious that being chased out of the Allegheny pack wasn't Gemma Calhoun's goal, but I have to agree with Galina. Creating a fake student to have her then disappear in order to make the school's president—her own father—look bad was pretty stupid. Even Clayton, her fiancee who was supposed to benefit from the rival pack leader's downfall, thought so. And he's certainly not afraid to show it.

With Gemma's transformation complete, Clayton slowly advances on her. She backs away to keep the distance between them until reaching the edge of the circle.

"Give them space," instructs Spencer and the wall of people parts.

As soon as there's enough room, Gemma's wolf turns and runs away. Clayton's wolf bolts after her.

"You've totally screwed our chance at a lasting peace with Black River now, new girl!" Someone yells from those left around the fire and it takes me a moment to realize that the angry exclamation was directed at me.

"Do you want to repeat that, Miller?" Spencer asks as he takes Clayton's place across the fire from me.

"No, sir!" Miller replies, a little too enthusiastically to be sincere.

"Good. And I'd advise the rest of you to refrain from assigning blame to anyone other than Gemma Calhoun for this," Spencer says, taking a swig of beer from a bottle he's handed. After lowering it, he adds, "Unless you also want to take a late night run through the forest."

The threat works and no one makes any more stupid comments, at least not loud enough for me to hear. There are quiet rumblings of private conversations as we wait for Clayton to return, but the jovial atmosphere of the pack retreat is gone.

The weather also continues to worsen, and by the time Clayton's wolf returns to the camp, we're all covered in a layer of snow and our teeth are chattering from the cold.

As expected, Clayton is alone as he saunters out from the tree line. Spencer runs ahead to meet him, quietly relaying some crucial piece of information that he obviously doesn't want the rest of us to hear. Clayton nods his head in either understanding or agreement before both join us fireside.

Spencer sits back down, but Clayton remains in his animalistic form, searching for something on the ground. When he finds it, he gently picks it up between his teeth and rounds the fire. Everyone seems to hold their breath until he stops right in front of me, letting out a collective gasp when he drops a necklace into my lap.

"I think he wants you to put it on," whispers Galina.

My eyes dart to Spencer for confirmation and he nods, so I pick up the golden chain and dangle it in front of me. The perfectly round opal shimmers in the fire light as I recognize the piece that Gemma had been wearing, but not its significance.

"What is it?" I ask tentatively, wanting to be clear on what I may be getting myself into by agreeing to Clayton's request. Or was it an order?

"That's the Luna's pendant," Selina from the athletics department says with an air of reverence.

I flinch as though the chain has burned my fingers.

"Oh, heck no. I can't take this," I say, extending my arm to get the piece as far away from me as possible.

Clayton, however, growls and steps closer as his eyes glow amber.

"That's not an option," says Spencer, taking the necklace from me. "May I?"

He's holding it with an offer to put it on me and my heart sinks.

First, I'm manipulated into joining a pack I have no ties to and now I'm being coerced to become its top female wolf. There's no scenario where this won't end badly. I wish I could step back and rewind time to six months ago when my life was so much simpler.

Then again, I'm not sure I could survive reliving the events of last summer, either. Once was already too much, so if this is the only way forward then so be it.

Pivoting, I reluctantly offer Spencer better access to my neck, and he drapes the pendant so it sits between my clavicles.

"I'm going to have to just knot it for now since the links are broken," Spencer says, referring to Gemma having ripped the chain off earlier.

"Okay," I say softly, realizing that finding a capable jeweler is going to be the least of my worries now that Gemma Calhoun has a real reason for hating me. It's not every day a woman has her fiancee drop her for a nobody in such a public way, after all.

"Now transform," Spencer says when he's done with the chain.

Having thought this would be the end of it, I'm taken aback by the directive. "What?"

"You need to summon your wolf in order to finish the ceremony," he says, motioning for me to move to the open space in the center of the pack's circle.

With trembling legs, I do as he says. I expect fatigue from the long day and anxiety from so many eyes on me to keep me from turning, but they do the opposite and soon I am in my wolf form.

My heart is beating wildly as Clayton approaches, gently sniffing my snout and face. I stay rooted to my spot as he walks around me, only turning my head to follow with my eyes. When he comes to my tail, he stops and before I can anticipate his next move, he jumps on top of me.

His weight and the force of his front legs against my back make my legs buckle. Pinned underneath and unable to move, I suddenly realize what's going on. Struggling to free myself as he sinks his sharp teeth into my scruff, all I can think is that this can't be happening.

You need to trust me.

The words ring inside my head in Clayton's voice and while I have no idea how that's possible, they give me comfort. I can't leave, but I can do that. I can trust him.

I relax my body, no longer resisting and with my permission, Clayton's wolf bites the back of my neck again.

This time, there is no pain. Or maybe there never was any. I can no longer tell. The rush of adrenaline through my veins is overpowering as a primal instinct replaces my need for civility.

Clayton thrusts and I'm pushed forward, but there is nowhere to go but the hard ground. I had expected more, but there is no direct contact other than his belly against my rump.

He thrusts again and both the move and the results are unchanged, and now I'm beginning to wonder if the lack of intimate contact had been intentional. After a few more repeats of the same, I'm sure that it was.

As the only indication that he's finished, Clayton jumps off me and runs toward the camp. Not knowing what else to do, I also retreat to the safety of my tent.