The sharp blast of a whistle tore through the morning air like a gunshot, slicing through conversations and stretching muscles mid-motion. Students immediately fell into a loose formation, boots scuffing the mats as they scrambled to obey. Rian joined the edge of the group, keeping her movements measured—alert but not overly eager. She’d observed enough of them now to mimic their rhythm.Professor Thorn strode into the center of the field with the same commanding presence he had exuded moments earlier. His expression was unreadable, carved in the stone of discipline and battle-worn expectation. The air around him seemed to thrum with power, silencing any lingering noise.“This is not the first day of school,” Thorn began, voice carrying like a thunderclap. “This is the first day of war.”Several students shifted uncomfortably. A few grinned, the hungry kind of smiles bred from violence and pride.“I’m not here to coddle you. You want your hand held? Go find your nanny. You want to sur
The silence in the dorm was pressing—thick and heavy like a woolen blanket thrown over a fire. Rhea sat on the floor for a few more minutes, letting her pulse slow before finally pushing herself up. Her legs felt stiff, her muscles sore from the long journey, and her nerves still hummed beneath her skin.She crossed the shared living space without a sound and slipped into the bedroom she’d claimed. As the door clicked softly behind her, she let out a slow breath and leaned back against it for just a moment. The room was quiet, clean, and modest, with a single bed tucked into one corner, a sturdy wooden desk against the opposite wall, and a tall wardrobe flanking a small dresser. It smelled faintly of wood polish and fresh linen.A moment’s peace.Rhea dropped to her knees beside her duffel bag and began unpacking. She was methodical—folding her clothing with sharp creases, organizing everything in a way that made it easy to grab quickly if she had to leave in a rush. Mira had warned h
The Academy halls were quieter now, the chaos of check-in fading into the background. Rian moved along the curved corridor, the weight of her satchel pressing harder against her shoulder with every step. Her fingers gripped the strap tightly, knuckles pale beneath her gloves. Each footfall echoed faintly off the stone floor, rhythmic and deliberate, as if the sound could anchor her racing thoughts.She reached the hallway labeled Residential Hall 3 – Elite Wing, carved into the wood with clean, sharp lines. The air here was different—cooler, stiller. Power clung to the walls like a living presence, thick and pressing, stirring her wolf beneath her skin. Her wolf remained alert but quiet, sensing the tension woven into the very stones of this wing.Rian paused before a heavy oak door. Her dorm assignment still felt like a cruel joke playing on repeat in her head:Room 3-A — Rian Greythorn & Kael StormvaleHer stomach twisted again.Kael Stormvale. The name echoed like a war drum throug
The hall buzzed with tension, a constant thrum of movement and scent and energy. Even after Rhea—no, Rian—had passed through the checkpoint, her shoulders remained rigid, every nerve pulled taut beneath the surface of her skin.She stepped further into the grand receiving chamber, an enormous stone-clad hall with vaulted ceilings and long banners bearing the academy’s sigil—three interlocking wolves encircling a crescent moon. Rows of recruits were slowly being filtered into smaller groups, each assigned to a row of registrars seated behind wide tables draped in black and silver. There was no warmth in the way they handled the process. Names were called. Questions asked. Files handed over. No one smiled.The scents were stronger here. Dozens of wolves packed into one space—dominant, anxious, eager, desperate. They crashed together like conflicting tides. Her nose burned, and she was grateful again for the scent blockers Mira had prepared. Without them, she’d have been found out in an
The morning sun had barely risen past the treetops, casting long shadows across the jagged stone walls of the Alpha Training Academy. The scent of pine and damp earth was quickly being overtaken by something stronger, more primal. The air vibrated with the presence of so many dominant wolves gathered in one place—an unseen pressure, a power that hummed beneath the surface and made the hairs on Rhea’s arms stand on end beneath her clothes.She stood in a winding line of recruits, all boys. Some were tall and muscled like they had trained for this their entire lives; others looked too young, faces still holding the soft edges of adolescence. But even they bristled with barely-contained energy, anticipation, and aggression. The very air around the gates to the Academy was thick with the scent of testosterone, ambition, and masked fear.Rhea’s heart thundered in her chest, each beat loud in her ears. The scent blockers Mira had given her still clung to her skin, masking the softness of he
The forest fell away like the fading edge of a dream.They broke through the last line of trees just after sunrise, the golden light filtering through the branches like fire through stained glass. The air shifted—cooler, sharper, but not natural. It carried the weight of ancient power, of blood spilled and vows made in stone. It settled on her tongue like ash and lightning.The boys slowed, a hush falling over the group as they emerged onto a wide clearing carved directly into the mountainside.Rhea’s breath hitched.The Alpha Training Academy stood like a fortress carved from shadow itself. Its towering blackstone walls stretched into the misted sky, cruel and elegant in their design, each block etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. The outer walls were flanked by jagged spires, silver-gilded at the tips, the metal catching the light like the unsheathed claws of a god.She had seen sketches. Descriptions in stolen books. Heard whispers from Mira late at nigh