Novels by Ava Bellemont

Serena’s POV (as Kael)The academy klaxon ripped me out of sleep before dawn, a brass note that rattled my bones. I shot upright, heart hammering, and my hand flew beneath the blanket on instinct.Flat.A shaky breath slid out of me. The concealment still held—broad shoulders, straight lines, no softness left to betray me. Serena was buried; Kael Draven stood in her place.I dressed fast—coarse training tunic, boots laced tight with clumsy, trembling fingers. Every muscle throbbed from a night spent sleeping too still, too careful. The cot had been nothing but a battlefield of restraint, every twitch monitored so I wouldn’t roll onto my side and give myself away.This wasn’t a normal morning. It was the first trial. The one that would decide whether I could stand shoulder to shoulder with boys bred for war—or whether I’d be flung out into disgrace before I’d even begun.Outside, the world was iron-gray and bristling. Recruits clustered across the yard, laughing too loud, stretching li

Serena’s POV (as Kael)My palms wouldn’t stop sweating.I curled them into fists and drew in a slow breath, standing stiffly in the line that snaked across the courtyard. The first light of dawn burned gold against Dravenhold Academy’s massive blackstone walls, throwing shadows across the waiting boys. Real heirs. Born leaders. Future Alphas.And then there was me—hidden in Kael’s identity, clutching his forged papers, praying my heartbeat wasn’t loud enough for everyone to hear.“Next!” a voice bellowed.I flinched.“Kael Draven!”That was me.I forced my legs to move, carrying me into the registration chamber. Behind a wide desk sat a tall official with iron-gray hair, his sharp eyes cutting into me like blades. He accepted the documents with no hint of expression—bloodline record, crest seal, and the crafted ID Ryan and I had poured nights into perfecting.“Draven lineage,” the man murmured as his thumb traced the crest. “It’s been some time since one of you came through these hall

Serena’s POVAlpha Magnus Draven looked up from the parchment he had been reviewing, his features carved in stern lines. But when his eyes met mine, the severity eased.“Serena,” he said, his voice gentling as he set the scroll aside. “Why do you look so grave, child?”I forced a small smile, stepping closer as I held out the letter Kael had forged. “Papa, we need to talk.”He accepted the parchment but didn’t open it immediately. His dark brows lifted. “And what is this?”“I’ve been listening,” I said carefully, shaping each word before I let it pass. “To you. To the council. To all of them saying this pack needs a strong Alpha. And that they’d never allow a woman to lead.”Concern flickered across his face. “Go on.”“So… I applied to Selvara Academy,” I confessed, my heart slamming against my ribs. “I told no one. Not even you. I didn’t know if they’d accept me. But I couldn’t keep fighting a losing battle. If I can’t be the Alpha Ironfang needs—”I swallowed, forcing the words out

Serena’s POV“I did it,” I laughed into the wind. “I actually did it.” I urged my mare faster, trees whipping by as the sun threw gold bars across the trail. I had to keep one hand on the reins and the other clenched around the letter that was changing my life.Dravenhold Academy had accepted me.Accepted Kael Draven, technically—but Kael was me, or would be, if I pulled the rest off.The granite gates of Bloodfang groaned open, guards dipping their heads as soon as they saw me. I slid from the saddle in one motion and jogged for the main house, heart drumming a battle rhythm.My uncle—Alpha Corvin Draven—sat on the porch like a mountain in a chair, silver-shot beard catching the light. “Well, well,” he rumbled, opening his arms. “Ironfang’s wild cub returns.”I crashed into his hug. “I missed you.”He squeezed once, then eyed me. “That look says ‘trouble.’ Let me guess—you need Kael.”“Do I ever.” I grinned. “Is he in?”“Same mess, same room.”I was already taking the stairs two at a

Serena’s POVThe council chamber smelled of age and power, like parchment burned to ash.I sat on the dais beside my father, Alpha Magnus Draven, overlooking the long oak table where the elders of the Ironfang Pack debated. His shoulders were still broad, his presence still commanding, but the faint tremor in his hands betrayed the truth—his body was failing even if his spirit was not.I straightened, trying to borrow that same steel. Deep down, I knew I didn’t belong here. This was a table for Alphas, for men who wielded strength and legacy like weapons. To them, I was neither.The voices around me clashed—sharp, clipped. They never once dared to say my brother’s name aloud, but I heard the shadow of it in every word.Gone. Slain in a renegade ambush six months ago.His death left a void, and now the pack’s stability teetered on the edge of that emptiness.“There is no male heir,” Elder Fenrick finally declared, his gravelly tone carrying finality. He turned toward my father, his lon