The side door of the academy is always left open, and I slip through it. The wood corridors echo every hit of my wolf’s claws on them as we dodge around corridors of lockers. We keep running until we get to the main stairs and head straight up to our room and pause. My wolf drops my bag on the floor, and we use our advanced hearing to make sure no one is around before shifting back. Most wolves don’t care about nudity, but I’m not one of them.
I unlock my door and head inside with my bag, quickly getting back into my jeans, plain black tee-shirt and boots. I search the messy floor for my phone next. I push a few items of clothing around before I find it and try ringing my parents, but it goes straight to voicemail. I ring my adopted elder brother, but again, straight to voicemail. My family are bloody useless with phones. Instead of trying to keep ringing them, I decide I might as well just go and see them since it’s not too far to walk. It’s a weird thing for them to use a wolf call with my mark, but I’m sure everything is fine, even if something in the back of my mind doesn’t think so. My mum never uses the mark to summon me, and my dad definitely hasn’t done it. He likes to pretend I don’t exist. That only leaves my brother, but Leo’s too busy working as a new demon hunter to bother summoning me. I guess there’s only one way to get to the bottom of this.
Time to go home and see what the hell is going on.
Chapter 2
Lilith Thornblood
Burning leaves.
It’s all I can smell when I emerge from the trees surrounding my childhood home. The scent clings to my snow-covered fur and permeates the night air like a sceptic perfume. I pause on the outskirts of the forest and lift my head towards the sky. A stiff breeze sweeps over me and carries the scent downwind, meaning it’s coming from the direction of my house.
The scent can only belong to a Stormfire wolf, but why would one of them trespass into our territory? Unless my parents invited them. Could that be why I’ve been summoned?
I slip out of the trees and run across the field towards my home. The three-storey, red-brick building has been in my family for generations. The slanted roof is covered in a thick blanket of snow, and icicles dangle from the gutters to overshadow the wooden porch. My dad’s car is parked in the driveway, and the shed, which we use for shifting, has been left open.
Slowing my gait, I scan the ground. Fresh paw prints. They’re triple the size of my own when I step into them. I take a cautious sniff, and sure enough, burning leaves cling to the indentations.
I hurry into the shed and shift back. Rummaging through my bag, I dress quickly, lock the door behind me, and climb the porch steps. Only the kitchen light is on. Mum must be cooking dinner. My stomach clenches, and a feeling of dread washes over me when I touch the door.
Someone with magic has been there. The only creatures who can use magic nowadays are demons. Not even the headmaster at the academy is able to cast spells; he has to summon a demon to do it for him.
I take a deep breath and open the front door. One step, two steps over the threshold, and my heart clenches at what I see inside our little kitchen. My mother, held by the throat by the largest man I’ve ever seen, and my father standing beside her as pale as a ghost. The unfamiliar male towers several feet above the both of them, and his grasp on my mum’s throat.
“Welcome home, Lilith Thornblood.”
His deep, powerful voice sends a shiver running down the length of my spine. He’s completely naked from the waist up. His torso is covered in symbolic tattoos the same black colour as his hair. Thick gold bands encircle his arms, and a black medallion with a ruby centre hands around his neck. The jewel glows just like his crimson eyes, all of them cutting into me like molten shards.
“I believe introductions are in order,” he says, flashing the tip of his fangs in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
My mother’s wide, terrified ones never leave my face. It kills me to see her so afraid. Even my dad has cowered a little in size; a gesture meant to convey submission in the presence of an alpha.
“I know who you are.”
He lifts a scarred brow. “Oh?”
I peel my gaze from the hand on my mother’s throat to glare at him. “You’re the alpha of Stormfire. You guard the Gates of Hell. Apparently, you have quite the temper and once wiped out an entire pack just because their alpha stole from you.”
The alpha inclines his head. “The very one.”
He regards me through the barest slits of his eyes. A minute shake of his head threatens disappointment as he looks at me. Look isn’t quite the right word. The Stormfire alpha is dissecting me into pieces, stripping me naked with his gaze until I’m only flesh and blood. From his stony expression, I appeal less to him than a mildly interesting object, and for some insane reason it raises my hackles.
Despite everything my parents and pack have taught me, I make a point of holding the alpha’s gaze as boldly and firmly as he holds mine. “What do you want?” I practically spit out at him.
My dad crosses the length of the kitchen and slaps me
