CHAPTER 1

Michelle's pov

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The morning of my graduation was finally here, and I couldn't contain my excitement. It felt like I had been waiting for this day for years, ever since I first stepped foot on the university campus as a freshman. And now, after four long years of hard work and dedication, I was about to receive my degree.

As soon as I woke up, I jumped out of bed and rushed to the closet to pick out my outfit. This was a day I had been dreaming of for years, and I wanted everything to be perfect. After rummaging through my clothes for what felt like an eternity, I finally settled on a knee-length dress that was both elegant and sophisticated. It was the perfect choice for this momentous occasion.

I spent what felt like hours getting ready, making sure that every detail was just right. I applied my makeup with precision, making sure that my lipstick was perfectly applied and that my eyeliner was straight and even. I straightened my long brown hair until it shone in the light, and then carefully pinned it back with a few clips.

Finally, I stepped back and took a look at myself in the mirror. I was satisfied with what I saw - a confident, capable young woman who was ready to take on the world. I took a deep breath and then made my way out the door, ready to start the day.

Growing up, I had always known that I was different from the other kids in my class. While they spent their weekends playing soccer or going to the mall, I would spend hours listening to my father's old werewolf stories, learning everything that I could about our ancestors who possessed magical powers beyond a normal wolfs' ability, but it changed over time due to war and battles.

My father, a proud werewolf warrior, had always been my biggest supporter. He would regale me with stories of his own adventures as a young wolf, and I would listen with rapt attention, feeling a deep sense of pride that ran through my veins. I was fascinated by his stories, but as I grew older, I began to realize that my father's life was vastly different from my own. While he reveled in his wolf form, I was content with my human form, finding joy in the simpler things in life.

I began to realize that there was a chance that I might never inherit the werewolf gene. My mother, a human, had never shown any signs of having the gene herself, and so there was always a sense of uncertainty hanging over me.

Still, I couldn't help but dream of the day when I would finally have a wolf companion to call my own. I imagined what it would feel like to run through the forest with the wind in my fur, to feel the strength and power of the pack coursing through my veins.

But as my 22nd birthday came and went, I began to accept the fact that I might never experience that bond. I had always known that the werewolf gene could skip generations, and as I looked around at my family, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness.

Despite this, I refused to let go of my dreams entirely. Even if I never had a wolf companion, I would still be proud of who I was and where I came from. I knew that my father would be proud of me too, no matter what path I chose in life, and that all beginnings with getting my Pediatrician degree today.

As an only child, my parents had always placed high expectations on me. They wanted me to excel in everything that I did, and I worked hard to meet their expectations. But being an only child also had its challenges. I often found myself feeling lonely and isolated, wishing for a sibling to share my experiences with. Nevertheless, I always found solace in my studies, burying myself in books and dedicating myself to my passion for medicine.

As I drove to the university, my mind was buzzing with excitement. I couldn't wait to walk across that stage and receive my certificate. I had worked so hard to get here, and now I was finally going to see all of that hard work pay off.

The parking lot was packed with cars, and I had to circle around a few times before I finally found a spot. I made my way towards the auditorium, taking in the sights and sounds around me. Families were gathered together, taking photos and congratulating their graduates. I felt a sense of camaraderie with them, knowing that we had all worked hard to get here.

As I entered the auditorium, I could feel the excitement building inside of me. I was finally here, about to graduate from one of the most prestigious universities in the country. The ceremony was about to begin, and I couldn't wait to walk across that stage, hoping I wouldn't fall or trip.

Now, as I stood among my peers, dressed in my graduation gown and cap, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. I had worked hard to get to where I was, and I knew that my parents were just as proud of me as I was of myself. But as I scanned the crowd for their faces, my eyes were drawn to a figure in the back, a man who seemed to exude a sense of power and strength that I couldn't explain.

It was as if everything around me had faded into the background, and the only thing that mattered in that moment was the man that I saw. He was sitting a few rows back, his dark hair falling in messy waves around his face, his sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes making my heart skip a beat.

I couldn't explain it, but something about him drew me in. It was as if we were the only two people in the room, and the intensity of his gaze made me feel as though he was looking right into my soul.

I tore my eyes away, feeling a flush of heat spread across my cheeks. Who was he? And why did I feel this strange pull towards him, as if we were somehow connected?

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on finding my parents. But even as I continued my search, my mind kept wandering back to the mysterious stranger in the audience. Who was he, and what was it about him that made my heart race with anticipation?