Chapter 2

My friend Brynn had warned me then that Kian and Lila were getting too close, but at the time, I'd just laughed it off.

I thought, "How much trouble could one girl stir up?"

Now, I realize I was too naive, too confident, so confident that I ignored all the early warning signs.

Like Kian coming home later and later from field research, his jacket occasionally carrying a faint, almost undetectable hint of white peach.

Like him subconsciously starting to overturn my territory ecological plans, his tone familiar, as if repeating someone else's words:

"Elara, this migration corridor design is too idealistic. Lila's model data is more reliable."

"Lila checked it, the prey density in this forest area has discrepancies. We'd better observe it for another quarter."

Lila, Lila, Lila.

Her name appeared in his mouth with abnormal frequency.

And I, foolishly, kept attributing all this to normal teacher-student communication and academic discussion.

Until that photo, like a poisoned dagger, tore through all the fabricated peace.

I closed my eyes, and that image reappeared in my mind.

Kian's sleeping face, and Lila's provocative caption.

Why did she dare to do it?

She was certain I wouldn't make a fuss.

She calculated that as Luna, I valued the Pack's reputation above all else and would never air our dirty laundry publicly.

She calculated that I cherished my academic reputation and wouldn't let private matters affect the core cooperative projects between our Packs.

She calculated that I would confront her privately, or cry and argue with Kian,

and in the end accept a perfunctory explanation of "lost control after drinking, merely being cared for."

Then she would play the innocent victim,

gaining Kian's sympathy and making me appear jealous and overbearing, slowly eroding my position.

Too bad. She miscalculated.

I, Elara, was never one to grit my teeth and bear it.

If she wanted to play dirty, I'd play with my cards face up.

Let the entire Pack, and all the faculty and students, bear witness to your "love."

I don't know when I fell asleep, only that it was an unusually deep sleep.

Two days later, I woke naturally.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the wooden floor.

A new room, but the air was filled with my usual pine incense, a familiar sense of calm.

I sat up and picked up the phone beside my pillow.

Two days off, it was time to turn it on and see how far the storm had escalated.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the power button.

The phone vibrated, and the screen lit up.

The next second, it vibrated wildly, "Buzz—buzz—buzz—" almost flying out of my hand.

Hundreds of missed calls, dozens of unread messages.

I scanned the call list; Kian was at the top, with 99 missed calls.

Below him were Pack Elders, colleagues from the department, my friends, and some unfamiliar numbers.

I silenced my phone and tossed it aside.

I got up and went to the kitchen, making myself a simple breakfast: fried eggs, toasted whole wheat bread, and a cup of hot cocoa.

I ate slowly, methodically, as if the world-shaking storm outside had nothing to do with me.

After breakfast and washing the dishes, I picked up the hot phone again.

I ignored all of Kian's messages and first clicked into the Blackspire Pack's Council SnapChat group.

Two days was enough for many things to ferment.

The group messages had exploded.

My congratulatory message was like a bomb.

Below it was several minutes of dead silence, then the first to jump out was an Elder, posting a shocked emoji.

Immediately after, various whispers began to flood the screen.

"What the hell? What's going on?"

"Has Luna been hacked?"

"Is that Alpha Kian in the photo?"

"Oh my god, the information is overwhelming."

"Did that student go too far?"

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