Chapitre 6

KAIA

Running until your lungs burn and every muscle in your body hums with exhaustion—what better way to start the day?

After dinner last night, I spent nearly two hours studying the Academy's floor plans. Every building, every corridor, every shortcut had become etched into my memory. The sprawling campus was almost a city in itself, with its labyrinth of stone hallways connecting centuries-old buildings, vast indoor training arenas, outdoor combat fields surrounded by towering pines, an enormous library that looked more like an ancient cathedral, a state-of-the-art infirmary, an auditorium large enough to host every student, and even a movie theater.

Blackwood Academy was no longer a mystery.

I knew it like the back of my hand.

Or maybe even better.

Claire always joked that I was basically a human GPS, and honestly... she wasn't wrong.

By the time I went to bed, I'd already mapped out four different routes for my morning run, each one passing through different parts of the campus.

The crisp dawn air filled my lungs as I ran through the quiet grounds. A light mist still clung to the grass, and the first rays of sunlight painted the gothic towers of Blackwood Academy in shades of gold and amber. The place looked almost magical before the chaos of the day began.

A handful of Alphas were already training. Some sprinted across the track while others ran through the forest trails with effortless speed, their competitive instincts impossible to ignore.

Thankfully, none of them tried to talk to me.

Exactly the way I liked it.

As I made my way back toward the dorm, however, the familiar prickling sensation crept across the back of my neck.

Someone was watching me.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Nothing.

Only empty paths lined with ancient oak trees and the imposing stone walls of the Academy.

You're imagining things, Kaia.

Still...

The feeling refused to leave.

Maybe I really was becoming paranoid.

***

After a long, much-needed shower, I reluctantly pulled on my uniform for the first time.

The white shirt was stiff enough to qualify as armor, the burgundy blazer felt far too structured for my liking, and don't even get me started on the pleated skirt.

Whoever designed Academy uniforms had clearly never considered comfort.

Or breathing.

The only redeeming feature was the pair of charcoal-gray knee-high socks that almost reached the hem of my skirt. At least they made me feel slightly less exposed.

I studied my reflection in the mirror.

Black waves framed my face in complete contrast to the severe uniform, and my green eyes looked almost too bright against the deep burgundy fabric.

I still looked ridiculous.

Making the most dramatic, horrified face I could manage, I snapped a quick selfie and sent it to my group chat with Claire and Skylar.

Kaia: Send help. They've turned me into a private school student.

I slipped my phone into my blazer pocket before opening my bedroom door.

At the exact same moment, the door across the hall opened.

Vinnie.

Asher.

Chris.

All three wore the boys' uniform effortlessly: tailored gray trousers, crisp white shirts, perfectly knotted ties, and burgundy blazers embroidered with the Academy crest.

It wasn't fair.

How could the exact same uniform make them look like they belonged on the cover of a magazine while I felt like a twelve-year-old playing dress-up?

"Morning, Kaia."

Vinnie and Chris greeted me almost simultaneously before immediately diving into what sounded like an animated debate about football.

I tuned it out after approximately four seconds.

"Hi," Asher said as he naturally fell into step beside me.

"Hi."

His voice was quieter than the others', calm in a way that somehow matched the peaceful morning.

"We didn't see you at breakfast."

"Yeah. I got it to go."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Wait... we're allowed to do that?"

I laughed softly.

"Honestly? I have no idea. I think Ruby just felt sorry for me."

"Ruby?"

"The head chef."

His expression turned even more confused.

"I ran into her after my run. I mentioned I wasn't sure I'd have time to sit down for breakfast before class, and she packed me a bag with orange juice, a café au lait, and a cream cheese bagel."

He looked genuinely impressed.

"If that becomes an official service, let me know."

I blinked.

"I'm serious."

"I think you'd be the first customer."

"I'd probably buy a subscription."

I couldn't help smiling.

"I seriously doubt Blackwood Academy is planning to launch breakfast delivery."

A beat passed.

"...That was a joke."

Heat immediately crept into my cheeks.

Why was I like this?

Asher laughed—a quiet, genuine laugh that reached his eyes.

"I know."

I looked up at him properly for what felt like the first time.

His blond hair caught the morning sunlight, giving him the effortless look of someone who had spent his entire life on California beaches instead of in a werewolf pack. Soft freckles were scattered across the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones, subtle enough that I'd completely missed them yesterday.

For someone built like a Beta warrior, there was something unexpectedly approachable about him.

Comforting, even.

Without realizing it, I kept looking.

He cleared his throat.

"Were you... staring at me?"

I blinked.

"Oh."

A smile tugged at his lips.

"Just a little."

I was fairly certain the tips of his ears had turned pink.

Or maybe that was my imagination.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

He smiled again, this time looking down at the path.

We continued toward our first Pack Organization class.

Students flowed around us in lively groups, laughing, talking, comparing schedules and complaining about professors they hadn't even met yet.

Around us, Blackwood Academy was finally waking up.

The silence between us stretched on.

Most people would probably find it uncomfortable.

I didn't.

It felt...

Easy.

Like there was no pressure to fill every second with meaningless conversation.

After a while, I glanced at him.

"You know... you don't have to walk with me."

He looked over.

"I don't mind being alone. You can catch up with the others."

He shook his head almost immediately.

"If you're saying that because you think you're holding me back, don't."

He shoved one hand into his pocket.

"I hate small talk."

I smiled.

"Really?"

"I mean it."

He shrugged.

"I know we barely know each other, but... the silence with you doesn't feel awkward."

His eyes met mine.

"I don't know if that makes any sense."

It did.

More than he realized.

"It makes perfect sense," I admitted softly.