Chapter 10
Bolton
By Monday morning, everyone knows.
I feel it the second I walk into the hallway.
It’s not just the usual high school static—that low buzz of gossip and hormones and barely concealed judgment.
No. This is different. Sharper. Like the scent of ozone before lightning hits.
People move aside when I pass—but it’s not respect, not today.
It’s wariness. Like I’ve been marked with something dangerous.
And maybe I have.
Not because Maya shifted—she didn’t. But because Cassie saw just enough to feel threatened. And Cassie doesn’t do idle.
She does calculated.
Dax joins me by the vending machine like it’s any other morning and we’re not standing in the middle of a powder keg.
“You really just gonna stand here like this is a normal day?” he says, eyeing my granola bar like it might detonate. “Because Friday night didn’t exactly scream ‘low-key social gathering.’”
“She handled herself,” I mutter, jabbing the button harder than necessary. The machine groans and coughs out something resembling breakfast.
“She did,” Dax agrees. “But that doesn’t mean Cassie’s letting it go. You know that, right? She’s already circling like she smells blood in the water.”
“She won’t do anything yet,” I say. But the words sound too thin, even to me.
Dax gives me a look. “She’s been gearing up for Luna since we were ten. You bring someone new into the circle—someone the Alpha watches like a prophecy—and you think she’s just gonna sit tight and journal about it?”
I rip open the granola bar and take a bite I don’t want, mostly so I don’t say something I’ll regret in front of the freshmen swarming around like they can sense the tension even without understanding it.
“She won’t touch her.”
Dax arches an eyebrow and snorts. “You keep saying that like you can control Cassie just by glaring at her hard enough.”
“I don’t need to glare,” I mutter. “Cassie knows not to cross the line.”
“Does she?” He takes a slow sip from his energy drink, shaking his head. “Because from where I’m standing, she’s already halfway over it. She’s been talking to some of the kids, Bolton. Stirring up ideas. Saying Maya’s dangerous. That she's untested, unstable.”
I narrow my eyes. “So now Maya’s the threat?”
“She didn’t say it outright,” Dax adds quickly. “But she doesn’t have to. Cassie’s queen of plausible deniability. All she has to do is hint that Maya’s a liability and wait for the pressure to build.”
I press a hand to the back of my neck, trying to tamp down the heat rising there.
“She’s not a liability,” I grit out. “She’s just figuring things out.”
Dax holds up a hand. “I know that. But some of these other wolves? The ones who still think pure blood equals pure leadership? They’re looking for a reason not to trust her. A challenge is the easiest excuse.”
My jaw tightens. “Cassie wouldn’t dare. Not in public. Not without a reason.”
Dax leans in, dropping his voice. “You gave her a reason, man. You picked a side. Cassie’s been training her whole life for Luna.
You marked Maya with your presence Friday night.
You think she’s gonna stand by while someone else steps into a role she’s been grooming herself for since she could walk? ”
I don’t answer right away. Because I hear the truth in every word.
But then I exhale, slow and controlled.
“I never wanted Cassie,” I say finally, voice low but firm. “She’s always known that.”
Dax goes still beside me, surprised I said it out loud.
“She thinks being Luna is some kind of birthright,” I continue, keeping my eyes on the locker across the hall. “But I’m not Alpha. Not yet. That’s still my dad.”
“And until then?”
“Until then,” I say, “she doesn’t get to decide who belongs in this pack. And she doesn’t get to use me as an excuse to play power games.”
Dax tilts his head. “Even if others back her up?”
I turn to him. “Then they’re backing the wrong future.”
His mouth twitches like he’s not sure if he should be worried or impressed. “You ready to handle the storm that comes with that?”
I nod once. “I don’t want Cassie. I never did. And if she comes after Maya because of that, she’s not just challenging her—she’s challenging me.”
Dax lets out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”
I don’t smile. I can’t. Because it’s not a threat—it’s a promise.
“She’s threatened,” Dax continues. “Threatened Cassie gets mean. Reckless. And if she can’t get to Maya directly, she’ll find other cracks. People who can be turned. Doubts that can be planted.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
“She won't lay a hand on her.”
“She won’t have to,” Dax says flatly. “She’s already playing the long game. You better be ready.”
And I know I have to be.
Because even if Cassie hasn’t attacked yet—
She’s already begun.
I find Maya near the quad, posted up against that tree she gravitates toward like it’s got answers.
She doesn’t see me at first—head tilted back, eyes closed, trying to soak up sun or oxygen or maybe just something that’ll keep her grounded.
Her hoodie sleeves are pulled over her hands again.
Defensive stance. Her braid’s half unraveled.
She looks like someone who knows a storm’s coming and is already counting the seconds between lightning and thunder.
I walk up slow.
“Hey.”
She opens her eyes like she already knew I was there. No jolt. No stunned reaction. Just that low, simmering awareness she’s been carrying since the bonfire.
“Hey,” she says, dry. “Did you know I was today’s main event? Everyone’s staring at me like I sprouted claws and went feral in the cafeteria.”
I almost smile. “Cassie’s probably rehearsing a whole new version of the story.”
Maya shifts her weight. “Am I supposed to be worried?”
“Yes,” I say honestly. “But not scared.”
She watches me. “Scared and worried aren’t exactly the same.”
“She’s all posture,” I say. “She wants you off-balance. That’s her game.”
“She wants to fight me.”
“She wants to win,” I correct. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a real challenge or just a hallway stare-down—Cassie fights for the attention she thinks belongs to her. Especially mine.”
Maya pulls her sleeves tighter. “So I’m a threat to her...because of you.”
“For now,” I say. “But that’s not the problem.”
She tilts her head. “Then what is?”
“The problem,” I say, lowering my voice, “is that Cassie thinks she can force the issue. That if she corners you hard enough, the pack will pick tradition over instinct.”
“And you think they won’t?”
I exhale. “I think they’ll follow strength. But first, they have to see it.”
She falls quiet for a second. Then she says, “I didn’t shift, Bolton. I felt something—yeah. But nothing happened.”
I shake my head. “That’s what Cassie’s counting on. That you’ll believe nothing’s happening. That you’ll doubt yourself enough to step back.”
She lifts her chin a little. “I’m not backing down.”
My wolf curls tight in agreement.
“Good,” I say. “Because she’s counting on a fight.”
“Let her count.”
I almost grin. Not because this is funny. Because she means it.
We’re silent for a moment. The bell rings. No one moves. Especially not us.
“She’s going to issue a challenge,” I say finally. “Soon.”
Maya nods. “Then I guess I need to be ready.”
She doesn’t ask for help.
She doesn’t promise to win.
But there’s steel under her voice.
And that? That makes her more dangerous than anything Cassie’s ready for.
I watch her for a moment, then ask, “Did you get a chance to talk to your mom? After the bonfire?”
Maya’s mouth tightens. She shakes her head. “No. She pulled a double shift at the hospital all weekend.” She kicks at a bit of gravel with her boot. “Which I’m pretty sure was intentional.”
I nod slowly. “She’s avoiding the conversation.”
“She’s good at that,” Maya mutters, eyes flicking away. “And I can’t exactly force her to tell me the truth.”
“You’ll find it anyway,” I say. “With or without her help.”
She looks up at that, something sharp and certain beneath the surface.
She doesn’t answer.
She doesn’t need to.