006

Killian’s POV

I shut the door behind me harder than I should’ve.

My jaw clenched so tight it hurt. I kept walking. Past the office. Down the damn hall. I could feel eyes on me…every single one of those boys tracking my steps like I was the moon and they were born to follow it.

I didn’t care.

I needed air.

Needed space.

Needed something to break.

I stormed past the training yard. My fists were balled, my nails digging deep into my palms. I wanted to punch a wall. Drive my fist into it until something gave in…bone or brick, didn’t matter. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not here. Not with every heir out here watching like I was some goddamn hero.

I gritted my teeth and looked up at the sky, breathing sharp.

Mate.

The word burned through my skull.

Mate.

To a boy.

Rowan Thorne. Alpha Heir of Blueclaw.

Blueclaw…the pack hanging by threads. Warriors dying every month. Rogues slipping past their borders like it was a joke. Packs withdrawing alliances left and right. And somehow, they still had an heir.

And that heir was my mate?

My hands shook. I shoved them into my pockets to hide it.

This wasn’t just ridiculous.

It was offensive.

I was supposed to be the Moon Goddess’s chosen. Leader of my own pack. Strongest Alpha under thirty. I’d earned every damn scar on my body. I wasn’t supposed to be tied to some barely-standing pack’s heir who looked like he couldn’t lift a damn sword.

And worse…he was a boy.

My chest tightened with rage.

I didn’t care what the Goddess wanted. I didn’t care about fate. This was wrong.

He didn’t even smell right. Something was off. Too clean. Too blank. He was hiding something, and whatever it was, I was going to find it.

I stopped walking when I reached the ring. I stared at the dirt for a second too long.

His eyes.

That split second when our eyes met. He knew.

Don’t care.

I straightened. My face stayed cold. My walk stayed sharp.

The heirs straightened when I passed. One even bowed slightly. I ignored them.

Respect wasn’t new.

But today…today I didn’t want their eyes on me.

Because all I could think about was that damn kid.

Rowan Thorne.

The boy who made my wolf whisper mate.

I growled low and sharp, just once. Enough for the air to tighten around me.

No one moved.

Good.

They should be scared.

Because I was one wrong breath away from losing it.

And if that boy thought he could walk into this Academy and stay hidden under my nose, he had no idea who the hell he was messing with.

The sun was burning hot over the training yard. Sweat and dust already filled the air, the kind that made it hard to breathe, like the whole place was tired of existing.

I stood near the edge, arms crossed, jaw tight. I didn’t know why I came. I told myself it was to check on the Alpha Heirs. But deep down, I knew it was because of him.

Rowan.

They lined up in the yard, new Alpha Heirs from different packs, all here to train, prove something, survive. Most of them were shirtless, muscles out, trying to show they belonged. They looked like they came from the same mold…broad-shouldered, sweaty, barking at each other to move faster.

Then there was him.

Still wearing his shirt. Long sleeves. In this heat. Everyone saw it. No one said anything, but they all noticed. Like a stain in clean water, he stood out.

And that moustache. What the hell was that? Thin, like he was trying to age himself with ink and pride.

I let out a short breath, close to a scoff. “Ridiculous.”

He was quiet. Always quiet. Kept his eyes down. Didn't meet anyone’s gaze. The kind of presence that makes you look twice, not because it demands attention, but because it looks like it's trying not to exist. I hated that my eyes kept going back to him.

The instructor barked out commands. “Down! Push-ups! Let’s see who came here to train and who came here to play!”

Dust flew as they dropped to the ground. I watched them move like a machine…except him. He was always half a beat late. Like he was guessing the steps instead of knowing them. Like someone taught him through glass.

The others noticed. The boy next to him nudged him with an elbow.

“You deaf or just slow?” the boy said, laughing.

Rowan kept his eyes down, said nothing. Pushed harder.

I narrowed my gaze. Something was off. The way his shoulders moved. The way he flinched before every hit during the sparring drills, like he’d been trained to expect pain.

The instructor clapped his hands. “Pair up! Sparring! I want sweat and bruises!”

Rowan got paired with a bulky heir from the Grayfang pack. Cocky bastard, all grin and biceps. He looked at Rowan like he’d been gifted a chew toy.

“Don’t cry when I hit you,” the Grayfang boy sneered, twirling his practice staff like a showoff.

Rowan didn’t say a word. Just nodded.

The match started. The rest were already shouting, clashing sticks, moving with fury. I didn’t care. My eyes were on him.

He started okay. Guard up. Careful. Too careful. The Grayfang heir noticed. Pushed forward, fast. Rowan blocked. Then again. Then again. Too stiff. Too slow.

“Don’t be scared, little heir!” the boy shouted, laughing.

Rowan tried to copy a move he saw earlier…some spinning dodge I saw one of the southern heirs pull off. He got it wrong.

His foot missed the dirt. Slipped.

And he fell.

Straight into me.

I hadn’t even realized I’d moved. But I was there…close, arms still crossed…and suddenly, he crashed right into my chest.

Silence.

The yard went quiet.

He pressed his palms against me, wide-eyed, frozen. His face was red, eyes darting away from mine, but he didn’t move. Like touching me was a sin, and he didn’t know how to repent.

I stared down at him. I didn’t move either.

His body was warm. Too warm. I could hear his heart, fast and frantic. He smelled like ink and crushed herbs and sweat.

Then he realized.

“I…I'm sorry,” he mumbled, voice barely above a breath, eyes dropping.

He started to pull away, clumsy, but I caught his wrist and yanked him up before he fell again. I held him upright. For one damn second too long.

Everyone was watching.

I let go.

He stepped back fast, nearly tripping over himself.

I turned, jaw tight. “Try not to fall into your Alpha again,” I said, loud and sharp.

Laughter broke out around us.

Rowan’s face went pale.

I didn’t look back.

I walked away, faster than I meant to. My hands were shaking. Not from rage.

Something was wrong with me. Something was happening.

And I hated that he was the cause.