The Problem With Aristocrats

For several long seconds, nobody moved. The silence inside the gymnasium stretched strangely thick beneath the bright overhead lights while students exchanged uncertain glances. Most of the humans looked confused. The wolves looked disciplined. That difference, Mara noticed immediately.

The boy who had nearly started the fight stepped backward first, lowering his gaze briefly toward Alaric before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like an apology. Mara’s suspicion deepened instantly because o normal college student commanded silence like that. No normal student stopped people mid-conflict without speaking. And no normal student made an entire gymnasium feel like weather had changed indoors.

The instructor cleared his throat loudly. “Enough drama. Back to laps.” Relief spread visibly through the room. Which was also weird. Mara turned slowly toward Alaric. “You.” His expression remained unreadable. “Yes?”

“What exactly was that?”

“A disagreement.”

“No,” Mara replied immediately. “That was a hostage negotiation with extra cardio.”

Behind them, Dave made a sound suspiciously close to laughter before disguising it as coughing. Alaric’s gaze flickered briefly towards him. The temperature around them seemed to cool by several degrees. Mara noticed that too. Interesting. Or rather, no. She needed a new word because this school had overused interesting to the point of emotional exhaustion. Suspicious....That was better. Everything about Alaric Arden felt suspicious.

The instructor blew his whistle again sharply. “Move.” Students resumed jogging around the track, though now conversations stayed quieter than before. Mara fell back into step beside Dave while Alaric remained just slightly behind them. Which somehow felt worse. “You saw that too, right?” Mara muttered.

Dave kept his expression carefully neutral. “Saw what?”

“The whole…” She gestured vaguely behind her. “Invisible dictatorship thing.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Dave, one man just stopped a fight telepathically.”

“That is not what happened.”

“Then explain it.”

“I enjoy living.” Mara frowned sideways at him.

“You people keep saying things like that.” “Maybe because you keep asking dangerous questions.”

“I ask normal questions in an abnormal environment.”

Ahead of them, several girls openly watched Alaric while pretending not to. Mara noticed another strange detail too. None of them approached him casually. Nobody bumped into him accidentally and nobody interrupted him. The entire student body moved around him with subconscious caution. Like deer grazing near a sleeping wolf. Unbeknownst to Mara, that comparison was painfully accurate.

By the time warm-ups ended, Mara had become deeply suspicious of everyone attending Larkin College. The instructor gathered students near the center courts. “Today we’re running paired defensive drills.” Collective groaning followed immediately. Mara distrusted the phrase defensive drills with every fiber of her being.

“Partners will rotate every round,” the instructor continued. “Control matters more than force.” That last sentence earned several unreadable looks from certain students. Especially the wolves. Mara noticed, again. There were layers inside conversations at this school that humans apparently weren’t meant to understand. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Mara hated mysteries.

“Thornton. Vale.” Dave sighed dramatically beside her. “We’ve been chosen by fate.” “Fate needs hobbies too.” Across the court, the instructor paired Alaric with Ethan Hale. The atmosphere shifted instantly. Several students visibly stopped paying attention to their own assignments. Even Lucien looked more alert now.

Mara folded her arms slowly. “Those two definitely have unresolved murder energy.” Dave nearly laughed. “You say unbelievable things with shocking confidence.”

“I survived rural town meetings. Human hostility lost its mystery years ago.”

The drills began quickly afterward. Students practiced controlled takedowns, defensive pivots and grappling techniques while instructors barked corrections across the court. Mara moved easily. Not elegantly like the wealthy girls who trained professionally since childhood. Hers was efficient and practical movement....Farm movement. The kind learned from carrying feed sacks, climbing fences and surviving stubborn livestock.

Dave noticed almost immediately. “You’ve done this before.”

“I grew up around sheep.”

“That does not explain combat reflexes.” “One ram broke Uncle Henry’s ribs.” Dave blinked. “I’m suddenly respecting your childhood differently.” Mara smirked faintly before catching movement from the neighboring court.

Ethan attacked first. Too fast. Even from this distance, Mara saw the aggression behind it. Alaric blocked effortlessly. No wasted motion, no strain, just complete terrifying control. The difference between them became obvious immediately. Ethan fought emotionally. Alaric fought like violence belonged to him naturally.

Several students had stopped pretending not to watch now. The air around the court felt increasingly tight. Then Ethan pushed harder. Hard enough that the instructor barked sharply, “Hale.” Too late. Something dangerous flashed briefly across Ethan’s face.

The wolf beneath his skin surged close again, instincts aggravated by humiliation from the fountain incident and by Alaric’s overwhelming dominance. He lunged and Alaric moved too fast enough that Mara almost missed it. One second Ethan stood attacking. The next he was flat on his back against the mat with Alaric’s hand locked around his throat.

An animalistic silence crashed through the gymnasium. The kind prey recognized instinctively. Mara felt it again. That strange pressure, but heavier this time and a chill slid briefly down her spine.

Around the room, several students lowered their eyes automatically. Ethan froze beneath Alaric completely motionless., in absolute submission. Alaric stared down at him with an expression so calm it became frightening. Then, quietly, he uttered just two words. “Control yourself.” He was neither loud nor angry but seemed strangely, disappointed.

Ethan swallowed hard. “Yes, Alpha.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. The entire gymnasium went still. Mara blinked once. Alpha? Her brain immediately supplied the most logical explanation available. Sports captain. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

Alaric released him instantly and stepped back. The invisible pressure vanished almost immediately afterward and students breathed easier again. Which definitely did not help Mara’s growing cult theory. The instructor recovered first. “Enough. Next rotation.”

Conversations resumed shakily across the room. Dave looked deeply exhausted beside her. Mara turned slowly toward him. “Did he just call him Alpha?” Dave nearly inhaled his own soul. “What?”

“I heard it.”

“You probably misheard.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“Gym acoustics are complicated.”

“Dave.”

“Mara.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You are behaving suspiciously.”

“You say that constantly.”

“Because everyone here belongs in an investigative documentary.” Before Dave could respond, another whistle sounded sharply. “Next pair.” Mara looked up. Then immediately regretted existing. The instructor pointed directly toward her. “Vale. Arden.”

The gymnasium collectively forgot how breathing worked. Somewhere near the weight racks, a girl physically dropped a water bottle. Dave went horrifyingly still beside her. And across the court, Alaric lifted his gaze toward Mara with that same unbearable focus that always made her nervous system malfunction slightly.

Mara stared at the instructor, then at Alaric. Then back at the instructor. “I would like to formally request reassignment.”

“No reassignment.”

“This feels targeted spiritually.”

“On the mat, Vale.” Mara sighed heavily. “Wonderful. I’m about to die in front of witnesses.”