Chapter Five: Becoming Arden

“This,” Aunt Luma said, setting a small wooden chest onto the table between us. “is the end of Aria.”

My breath caught. Inside was filled with papers, neatly folded clothes, and several small bottles. 

Luma’s eyes cut into mine. “From tonight on, you are no longer Aria of the Silverbane Pack. That girl is dead. Arden stands in her place now.”

The name landed heavy in my chest, unfamiliar and sharp. “I…” I whispered. “I'm not sure I can do this.”

“You can, try.” Luma pulled a bundle of folded parchment and slid it across the table. “These are your documents. Academy identification, transfer records, letters of recommendation. All forged. They will stand against scrutiny—but only if you do. The moment you act like Aria instead of Arden, you’ll be found out.”

My trembling fingers brushed the parchment, the ink marks that would decide my future. “An all-male academy…” My throat tightened. “Aunt Luma, what if they notice? What if they see?”

Her eyes hardened. “They mustn't. Do you hear me? They most not find out. And they won’t, if you listen.”

She pulled out one of the small bottles from the chest and handed it over to me “Scent blockers. Stronger than what you’ve used before. This will mask your wolf, bury Liora so deep no one will smell her. Use them daily, sparingly. Too much and it will weaken your wolf. Your body will weaken.”

I nodded as I collected the bottle. Holding it like it was life itself.

Luma set down a folded bundle of clothing. “This is the Academy uniform. I altered it for you. It will sit loose enough to hide your body shape. You must bind your chest every morning. Don't forget that.”

She gave out more instructions. Sharp, practical and unrelentless. The tension in the room rose to a height when she set a knife on the table between us.

My heart flipped. “What’s that for?”

She didn't flinch. “Cut your hair short. You're a man now. Arden cannot afford to look delicate.”

I gasped, feeling my hair. My hair was what made me Aria. It was unique and long. Mother used to braid it for me at night as she told stories of the moon goddess. I grabbed the strands that fell over my shoulders with trembling.

“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Luma stepped closer, crouching so we were eye-level. “Aria, listen to me. If you don't, Malrick would be the one grabbing it instead. His fingers would slide into your braids, tugging like reins as he makes you bow”

Fear ran through my bones. “No.”

“So you must cut it short, Aria. You have no choice,” she said softly. 

My hands trembled as I picked the knife. I grit my teeth to stop the tears from falling as I gathered the silky thick strands which carried memories of Aria. I paused. 

Luma’s voice softened—rare, almost tender. “Hair grows back. Freedom does not. Choose, Aria.”

I closed my eyes as I cut the hair, feeling it fall on my skin. By the time I looked into the small mirror propped against the wall, i saw a stranger staring back.

I didn't look like Aria. I was Arden now

A sob broke free from my throat. “She’s gone.”

“Yes,” Luma said. “And she might return. But only if you survive.”

My hands flew to my chest, trying to steady the ache. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are,” she simply replied. 

---

The morning I left, the sky was heavy with rain. My chest was bound so tight that I could barely breath and the uniform felt rough against my skin. The cropped hair itched against my neck, alien and uncomfortable.

Luma stood at the door with her hands crossed and her eyes fierce as ever. She handed me a small pouch. “These contains food, scent blockers and extra bindings. Always keep them hidden. And remember—you are Arden now. Not Aria.”

I nodded, holding the pouch tight. 

Her gaze softened just for a moment. “Look at me, child.”

I did.

“You will be afraid,” she said. “That is normal. Only let the fear sharpen you don't let it break you. If you falter, remember why you left. Remember the stakes.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Malrick.”

Her lips curved into something like a grim smile.

“Good. Now go.”

I remained standing, staring at her. Trying to resist the urge to throw myself into her arms and beg her to let me stay. “Thank you.” I whispered. 

When I got to the academy, wolves were scattered across the courtyard. Tall, broad-shouldered young men radiating with power and arrogance.

I adjusted the strap of my bag. “Keep your head low and your movements stiff” I muttered to myself, but my heart beat faster as i crossed the threshold.

They can’t know. They must not know.

Inside, the halls was bubbling with noise. People were laughing, some where shouting. In the training yard, students where sparring. I kept my head down to remain invisible but the invisibility didn’t last long.

“Hey!” A voice called behind me. A tall boy with brown hair and a cocky grin slung an arm around my shoulders. “New blood? Where you from?”

My muscles locked, panic flaring. “Uh—Blackthorn,” I said quickly, remembering the forged details.

“Transferred.”

“Blackthorn, huh?” He whistled. “Fancy. What’s your name?”

“Arden,” I forced out.

He grinned wider. “Arden. Noted. See you around.” He sauntered off, already forgetting me. Relief crashed through me like a wave.

But it didn’t last.

I was approaching my classroom when I saw him.

Tall, golden haired and eyes the color of steel. He had the kind of face that would make one stop and stair. To say he was handsome was an understatement. He walked around with arrogance, like it was built for him. His scent was strong and intoxicating. My gaze lingered at him for a second too long, caught between admiration and irritation. 

Then he brushed past me, hitting me hard with his shoulder, jolting me back to reality. I stumbled, and steadied myself not to fall. My checks flushed.

 

“Watch it,” he snapped, not even glancing at me. His tone was laced with disdain, like I was nothing.