I don’t plan.

I don’t think.

I just move.

One second, my feet are cemented to the ground. The next second, I’m jumping, grabbing hold of the cabin’s crossbeam and swinging myself up. Splinters of rotten wood stab into my fingers, but I don’t have time to care about it. I scramble onto the roof, my shoes slipping on the cabin’s shingles. That adrenaline stuff surges through me, sending fuel to my muscles. Which is good, ‘cause I’m gonna need them.

A vicious claw appears at the roof’s edge, raking the shingles. Then the White Wolf pulls herself up. She is a living, breathing nightmare—a savage, snarling horror show soaked in blood. If it wasn’t for her wound, I’d be dead meat already. She said herself, she’s been a werewolf a long time. Normally, she’s stronger than me, faster than me. But the blood loss from the arrow has slowed her down.

“Would you just die already?” My voice cracks into a half-sob. Can’t believe that came out of my mouth. Twelve-year-old Kat Lupin would never dream of saying something so mean. But thirteen-year-old Kat is exhausted and scared and done with all this. Too bad all this isn’t done with me.

The White Wolf takes a flying swipe at me. I manage to slip out of the way… barely. Her nasty claw slices the air, an inch from my nose. That claw would have ripped me open, I’m sure of it. Instead, I trip over a loose roof shingle and tumble backwards, landing hard on my butt.

The White Wolf bares her fangs at me, flashing a sneering smile. Stupid girl. You’ve read too many stories. Seen too many movies. You aren’t the hero of this fairytale. You’re nobody.

“Stay… stay away from me,” I stammer as scuttle backwards, desperate to get away from her. Sweat streams down my face, mixing with my tears. I can smell the fear in that sweat. I’m so filled with panic, I barely hear Justin’s voice call out to me.

“Kat!”

He’s on the ground, a few paces from the cabin now. One of the wolves lies a few yards from him, squirming and howling. An arrow sticks out of the wolf’s back. Two more wolf boys growl low and mean as they stalk towards Justin. The only thing keeping them from pouncing on him is the silver thing shining in Justin’s hand—my dad’s basketball trophy.

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“Catch!” Justin tosses the trophy underhand, sending it sailing upwards, lightning fast, right towards me. Before Killer Paw’s bite, I was such a dorky, klutz, I would’ve let the trophy fumble out of my hands. But now, thanks to the werewolf blood flowing through my veins, I snatch the trophy right out of the air with one hand. Luckily, it has a wooden base for the tiny silver guy to stand on, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to hold the thing. Even through the wood, I can feel an unnatural heat surging to my palm and burning my fingers.

Ignoring the pain, I spin to face the White Wolf again, slashing the air with the trophy like Ghostface with his favorite knife. Since we cut off the little silver basketball guy’s arms, the trophy is left with a pair of jagged, sharp stumps.

“Come on!” There’s an anger to my voice that I don’t even recognize. “Come on!”

We both know you don’t have it in you. The White Wolf bares her fangs in a sinister smile, but she doesn’t step closer.

“Let’s find out.” I shout the words, trying my best to sound tough. I hope she can’t hear the fear in my voice, but I know she can.

A wolfish smile vanishes. She lowers her head, looking like my dog Bizbee after getting scolded. Her whisper reaches out to me.

Maybe this has gone too far, Kat. We shouldn’t be fighting amongst ourselves. The White Wolf raises her head, but she doesn’t snarl or glare. Her eyes have gone soft. Like it or not, we are a family now. Like it or not…

She never finishes her sentence. Instead, the White Wolf leaps, a murderous blur of bloody fur. So fast I don’t see the flashing claw, whipping around at me. But I feel it.

For a split-second, it doesn’t hurt any worse than a bee sting. Then, all at once, a pain like I’ve never felt before rips through my chest. Blood gushes from my skin, warm and wet. I stumble backwards, my feet slipping out from under me. I smash down hard against the very edge of the roof. A shrieking cry of pain echoes through the clearing. It takes a moment before I realize it’s me doing the shrieking.

Shhhhhhhh, the wolf whispers. No need for that. It’s almost over.

I grit my teeth together, my own fingers digging into the roof shingles. Somehow, I keep myself from rolling off and plummeting to the ground below. But that’s the only luck I have. I don’t remember losing my grip on the trophy, but I spot the thing clattering across roof and sliding off the edge. It takes a few rough bounces along the ground then ends up standing stupidly in the middle of the clearing, like it’s an award being given to the trees.

Oh crap. That’s me thinking, not the White Wolf’s whisper.

I watch her lick my blood off her paw before trotting towards me. And now your weapon is gone. So tragic, but so fitting. You were never cut out for this.

This is it. This is the end of me. I’ll never attend high school or see a rated-R movie in the theater. I’ll never go to prom, which I didn’t even know was important to me until this very second.

I’ll never see my family again.