Evaline:
I almost forgot how to breathe.
The young man standing in front of me was undeniably handsome - sharp cheekbones, smooth jaw, eyes the color of a clear morning sky - but that wasn't what made my lungs stop working.
It was his hair.
Silky, long strands of silver, falling over his shoulders like threads of moonlight.
Silver.
My heart skipped.
In nineteen years of my life, I had known only two people with hair like that.
My mother.
And me.
Silver hair wasn't just rare... it was almost extinct in our world.
Only wolves born from the lineage of ancient Silver Wolf Pack carried it, and that pack… well, it had been hanging by its last thread for as long as anyone could remember. My mother was one of the last three remaining members of that lineage. From her, I inherited these silver strands and her amber eyes.
But not the wolf.
I had been born without one.
The disgrace of my pack.
An embarrassment my father never bothered to hide.
