Chapter 4

Olivia's POV 

“Don’t cause trouble. Don’t be noticed,” Chloe read aloud, her voice taunting. 

“Well, congratulations, Liv—you lasted a solid thirty seconds.” 

I groaned, clutching the now slightly torn bag to my chest. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Do what?” Chloe grinned, trailing behind as we walked toward our room, which was at the end of the corridor.

“Discuss the fact that the Southern Alpha, ‘the Nikolas Blackwood,’ just picked up your notebook and called you ‘little wolf'?” 

I nearly tripped over my feet at her double meaning. 

“He wasn’t… He didn’t… That was just… words. Alpha words.”

“Uh-huh. And the way he looked at you? You were blushing, Liv. So much for a man you didn't want.” Chloe’s grin widened. 

“And that was not ‘Alpha words.’ That was claiming territory with his eyes.”

“Chloe!” I hissed, my face burning. “He was just… being polite. Sort of. In a terrifying, alpha-makes-you-forget-how-to-breathe kind of way.”

Chloe chuckled, clearly enjoying my misery. “You do realize that man doesn’t ‘do polite’? You might’ve just made the first impression of the century.”

I exhaled, trying to calm my heartbeat, but the memory replayed anyway—those forest green eyes, that smirk that felt like a challenge, and his voice, deep and dangerous, curling around the words “I prefer when someone surprises me… Feels like fate.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Exactly what I needed.” 

Chloe nudged me and sped away. “Too late for that, little wolf.”

And though I tried to ignore it, the name…his name for me…kept echoing in my chest like a secret promise I didn’t understand yet. 

However, in the next second, I bumped into Chloe, who had stopped abruptly with bulging eyes as if she had run into a predator. 

Trying to avoid the noise of the dorms and prying eyes, Chloe and I had chosen a deserted corridor leading to our room. 

However, seeing Chloe's horrid look and stiff posture, I felt a chill seep through my uniform, and a bad premonition arose in my heart. 

I was yet to wrap my head around what was happening when a low growl, not entirely human, echoed through the corridors, and I froze.

A shadow emerged from the side, and a man stepped forward: tall, broad-shouldered, and regal, his ink-black hair catching the sunlight. His storm-gray eyes burned with authority, his aura sharp enough to freeze the air. 

Silas, the Northern Alpha, rumored to be ruthless in combat and colder than winter itself, was in front of me. 

I instinctively take a step back, trying to move out of the way, but in my frantic attempt to move, I stumble on my feet, my body thrown forward as I raise my hand to brace myself against the wall, but before I can crash, Silas moves like lightning, his strong arms wrapping effortlessly around me as he holds me in his embrace. 

For a moment I forgot to breathe, my heart thumping erratically as my fingers curled around his coat, torn between pushing him away and leaning onto his chest. 

I lifted my face and realized he was looking down at me, our faces merely inches apart.

“Careful, little bird,” he says, voice low and clipped. 

I blink, disoriented. ‘What was with the cardinal Alphas throwing out nicknames anytime they spoke? Was this some sort of “fetish” for them?’

His aura is powerful, almost deep and ancient, unlike Alpha Nikolas. His hands are steady, his touch cool, and when his storm-gray eyes finally meet mine, I forget how to breathe.

“You’re… the Alpha of the North.” The words tumble out of my mouth even before I can stop myself.

“Does that frighten you?” he says, tilting his head slightly.

 “A–a little.”

 “Good,” he replies softly. “Fear keeps you alive.”

 “I… I'm not afraid,” I whisper, even though I could tell I'm trembling. 

“I'm just feeling cold,” I added smoothly without stuttering.

His gaze softens, barely—enough for me to notice. “Then learn to control your trembling. Weakness gets you killed here.”

He lets go of me and turns to leave, but as he walks away, he drops his coat over my shoulders. 

“For the cold,” he whispered, and then he was gone. 

Chloe's gaze fell upon me, eyeing the coat around my shoulders. 

“Don't speak!” I warn, barely sparing her a glance. Chloe surprisingly just nodded and began to trail after me. 

‘I came here to blend in, not to catch the attention of two strong Alphas in one day, goddess help me!’ I inwardly groaned. 

“Come on before the good rooms are claimed.”

Good rooms? 

“Yeah, now that you have arrived, it's time for you and the remaining Luna candidates to choose your rooms,” Chloe provided. 

‘They were waiting for me before they chose rooms?’ I inwardly pondered, but Chloe impatiently pulled me along, causing my thoughts to drift. 

“Hurry up, will you?”

Right. This wasn’t a residence hall—it was a hierarchy waiting to be revealed.

We walked through a long corridor lined with arched windows, rays of the setting sun pouring like silk across polished floors. At the end stood a grand staircase that split into two wings.

“The Luna candidates sleep in the Crescent Wing,” Chloe explained, adjusting her clipboard. “Each of you gets a private suite… But proximity is ranked.”

“Ranked?”

She beamed. “The highest-potential candidates are placed nearest to the Alpha observation corridor. The least… further away.”

Translation: Where you sleep is a scorecard.

The other four girls were already inside when I arrived—clustered around the ornate wall map showing room assignments. 

They turned simultaneously upon hearing my footsteps, and I managed a smile, pretending my palms weren't sweating with how they were assessing me. 

They dressed and looked like they were from an entirely different league. 

“Well. You must be the candidate they dragged in from the Central Plains,” a brunette in a flowy gold silk dress said, her smile sweet and confident. She gave me a once-over that felt like a dagger disguised as a compliment.

Her tone made it sound like I’d crawled out of a dumpster instead of a van. 

“Olivia Quinn,” I said politely, forcing a small smile. “And you are?” 

“Yvonne Hunter, bride representative of the North. My father’s beta commands the largest army up north.” 

Of course he did. She had that aura of someone who used her family’s power like a necklace. Even her name sounded like a challenge. 

Before I could reply, a tall, raven-haired beauty chimed in, her voice soft but sharp. 

“She’s from the Central Plains? Isn't that the place reeking with poverty and famine? This is charity, not competition.” 

She looked like the kind of girl who probably had people wrapped around her finger since birth. 

“Evelyn Fairbane, bride representative of the East,” Chloe leaned to whisper. 

Yvonne tilted her head at the assignment list. “Curious where they stuck you?”

“Probably in the leftover servant quarters,” Evelyn said.

The third girl only crossed her arms as she assessed me, silent but disdain thick in her posture. Her expression was unreadable, and her gaze was as sharp as a blade. She didn't bother hiding her disdain when her eyes met mine. 

“Mira Vale, bride representative of the West,” Chloe offered. 

“You’re shorter than I thought,” Mira said. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” I muttered, earning a giggle from Chloe behind me.

And then there was the fourth girl. She was still watching the assignment board, her long white hair braided over one shoulder. She hadn’t said a word.

“She’s from the Southern Plains,” Chloe whispered quietly beside me. “The Southern Alpha’s faction.” 

Of course. The Southern girl. The one who probably thought I was trespassing in her territory and stole her man 

As if sensing our attention, she turned her head slowly… 

I froze, my eyes bulging when I saw the person before me.

“Kathy?… How?” I whisper, not understanding what was happening. 

“Katherine Storm, bride candidate from the Southern Plains,” she says with pride. 

Draped in a pale pink off-shoulder dress, my sister smiled at me like the devil pretending to be an angel. Her confidence was effortless, her beauty pristine. The golden emblem on her chest marked her as the Southern candidate. 

“You look like you've seen a ghost. Do I remind you of someone?” She taunts, her smile sharpened. 

‘A ghost? Remind me of someone?’ Of course. Because life clearly enjoyed irony.  But wait… she had white hair. Kathy had always been a brunette. What is happening?

“You're Kath—” 

“I don't think you've been to the Southern Plains before. There's no way we've met,” she says, cutting me off. 

I try to wrap my head around what is happening when Chloe clears her throat and loudly taps the map.

“Room placements are as follows:

Mira Vale—West Wing Hall, Suite One

Evelyn Fairbane—East Wing Hall, Suite Two

Yvonne Hunter—North Hall, Suite Three 

Katherine—South Hall, Suite Four”

She paused deliberately. 

“And Olivia Quinn…”

Their eyes turned to me like knives finding a target. 

“…Crescent Hall, Suite Zero.”

Silence.

Then—

“Zero?” Yvonne scoffed. “Does that even count as a room?” 

However, Kathy’s, no, Katherine's smile shifted; her gaze was no longer mocking but calculating.

Chloe added lightly, “Suite Zero is nearest to the Moon Balcony—the one corridor all four Alphas use when overseeing the training grounds.”

Mira’s head snapped toward me.

Evelyn stiffened. 

Yvonne’s smile vanished.

I blinked, trying to process Chloe's words.

‘Nearest… to the Alphas?’

But that meant not the lowest, not leftover: it was the closest room.

The one someone would have to intervene to assign.

“Impossible,” Yvonne muttered. “That’s a protected suit. Reserved for—”

She stopped.

For whom, exactly?

Katherine's expression turned unreadable. It wasn't anger… not jealousy… recognition.

“That room used to belong to the previous "Alphas pet," the one whose name shall not be mentioned,” she murmured, her voice suddenly soft.

“The girl all four Alphas marked as ‘favored.’”

The girl who never finished training.

The girl who vanished.

My fingers went numb.

Chloe smiled brightly. 

“Well then! I’ll show Miss Quinn to her quarters first.”

And just like that, I was standing in a corridor most girls never touched—feeling more watched, more targeted, than ever.

Not a mistake. 

Not a leftover room. 

A placement. 

A claim.