Chapter 3: Play God (Elara’s POV)

With each day, the pressure of Lila’s unrelenting show of viciousness grew tighter around my neck. But I was grateful activities had finally begun in the Alpha Academy.

The teachers and lecturers had come around, dressed in their old-fashioned wears, men and women carrying themselves with pride. All species of werewolves while of course, I remained the only human.

I kept my head down, clutching my worn notebook like a shield, as I navigated the crowded corridors, rushing towards class knowing I could be late in tendering to Lila or punished for being too far when the entirety of me being here was to watch after her.

Professor Thorne, a grizzled werewolf with scars crisscrossing his arms, stood at the front of the Combat Theory lecture hall, his voice booming.

“In battle, strength isn’t just in your claws—it’s in your mind. Anticipate your enemy’s move before they strike.”

Beside him, Professor Elowen, elegant and sharp-tongued, taught the finer points of pack strategy, her eyes scanning the room like a predator.

And then there was Master Draven, the combat instructor, who would oversee the practical training later— a mountain of a man known for his brutal drills.

I slipped into the back row, hoping to remain invisible. But of course, that was never an option.

“Human,” Lila’s voice cut through the air as she lounged at the center table with her usual clique. Her smirk was pure venom. “You’re not here to learn. You’re here to serve. Take notes for me. Every word.”

The class snickered. I bit my tongue, my cheeks burning as I moved to the side table she pointed at. Professor Thorne didn’t even glance my way. No one did. I wasn’t a student; I was a glorified servant in their eyes. The “human” pet who didn’t belong.

I scribbled furiously as Professor Thorne droned on about defensive formations, my hand cramping. Lila leaned back, whispering loudly to her friends. “Look at her. So pathetic. Writing like her life depends on it… Oh! Ouch! Because it does.”

Mara chimed in. “Why does the Alpha even keep her around? She’s dead weight.”

The lesson dragged on, each minute a fresh cut to my pride. When the bell finally rang, I gathered my things, but Lila and her group blocked the door.

“Going somewhere, freak?” Lila shoved me hard against the wall. The impact rattled my bones, and I gasped, dropping my notebook. Papers scattered across the floor.

“Please, just leave me alone,” I muttered, bending to pick them up.

Mara kicked one of the sheets away. “Why should we? You’re cursed, Elara. Everyone knows it. Ever since you showed up, bad luck follows the pack like a shadow. The attacks from before on the entire wolf clan? Probably your fault.”

The other girls laughed, circling me. “Stay away from her,” one of them called out to a passing student. “She’ll bring the Devourer down on all of us.”

The Devourer?

I didn’t have time to think.

Word spread like wildfire. By the time I reached the training grounds for practical combat, the whispers had turned into open avoidance. Students who once tolerated my presence now veered sharply away, shooting me dirty looks.

Even Master Draven paired everyone up for sparring drills, but when it came to me, he just grunted, “Human, fetch the equipment. You’re not fit to fight.”

I swallowed the humiliation and hauled heavy pads across the field. That’s when it happened. One of the older trainees—clearly egged on by Lila’s group—swung a practice staff too wide during his drill. It cracked against my side, right under my ribs. Pain exploded through me, sharp and hot. I stumbled, clutching the spot, but bit back a cry.

“Watch it,” the boy sneered, not even pretending to be sorry.

I realized just then that I was bleeding. Hiding the injury as best I could, I retreated to the menial chores waiting for me in the academy’s outer buildings. Scrubbing floors, hauling laundry—anything to stay out of sight. The pain throbbed with every movement, but I kept working, sweat mixing with silent tears. Just endure, I told myself. It’ll pass.

Later, in a quiet corner of the storage room during a brief rest, I sank onto a crate, exhausted. The wound should have been screaming, but when I gingerly lifted my shirt to check... there was…

Nothing.

No bruise, no swelling, not even a mark. The skin was smooth, as if the blow had never landed. My heart stuttered.

“What...?” I whispered, pressing my fingers against the spot. It didn’t hurt. Not even a twinge. I must have imagined the injury. The stress was getting to me. Yes, that had to be it. I convinced myself I’d never been hit that hard in the first place. Just another trick of my tired mind.

I closed my eyes for a moment, the fatigue pulling me under.

And suddenly, I jolted awake, gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs. Shaken, I stepped into the hallway to head back to my quarters.

That’s when I saw him—Kairos. He moved like a force of nature, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd. His golden eyes locked onto mine for a split second, and that strange spark flared again, warm and insistent, pulling at something deep inside me. What was happening with me?

Lila and her group appeared at the other end of the hall, their laughter dying as they spotted me. “There she is. Let’s remind her—” Lila came over and grabbed me by the hair. Pain stung my skull so bad I yelled.

“Enough.” Kairos’s voice sliced through the air, cold and commanding. He didn’t even look at me directly. “Stop this nonsense. Your petty games irritate me.”

Lila’s face paled. “But Kairos, she’s—”

“I said enough.” His tone left no room for argument. Lila scoffed, throwing me a wry smile before disappearing down the hall.

I stood frozen, staring at him. He hadn’t done it for me. It was irritation, pure and simple—his voice had been laced with disdain.

Yet that pull... that confusing warmth in my chest wouldn’t fade. Why did he affect me like this? Why did his presence make me feel…

I turned away immediately and ran but he remained still…

Watching.