Chapter Seven

And suddenly, she felt heat creeping up the back her neck again. Her chest felt warm — her scent might be creeping too close to the surface. But she couldn't tell.

Her binding could not dare fade for once or she'd die.

Elowyn stood up quickly, pushing her tray and grabbing her bag.

“Bathroom.” she murmured. No one really noticed.

She rushed through the back hallway and ducked into a small tiled washroom near the eastern wall.

The door slammed. She braced both hands against the sink, breathing hard.

Then she reached beneath her coat — pulled out the binding flask.

And drank.

One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps. Her throat burned as the herbs surged through her system, tightening her scent, cooling her blood.

Her pulse slowed.

She wiped her mouth, stared at herself in the cracked mirror. Her reflection didn’t feel like hers anymore.

“I need to write Mia once I get to the dorm." She whispered hoarsely. “She needs to know everything.”

This place wasn’t just brutal. It was buzzing with wolves — with politics, rank, and teeth.

And she might be one wrong breath away from being torn open.

★★★

★★★

"Dear Elowyn....”

The letter wrote itself with a soft feather pen on a clean sheet of paper, even as Mia lay in the cave lit by blue-glowing moss and the faint hum of her magical familiars.

Their wingless shapes hovered like around her, whispering in a volume only her bloodline could hear.

She’d been here for days. Or weeks. Time moved oddly in the spirit veil.

Alone.

“I’m not supposed to miss you. I’m supposed to be brave. But dear, Elowyn… I’m so lonely.”

She hugged her knees to her chest, the parchment hovering mid-air, ink dancing across it with her thoughts.

“This cave — it’s deep, cold, and full of memories that don’t belong to me. These familiar spirits… they obey. They heal. They serve. But they aren’t my family. They aren’t you.”

She bit her lower lip. Blinked back the sting in her eyes.

“Maybe I shouldn’t even be writing this. Maybe you’re out there in real danger and I’m here whining. I hate myself for it.”

A soft hum rose nearby — two of her oldest familiars, Jahmi and Quenly, materialized briefly beside her. Their voices echoed in the gloom.

“You’re being hunted, Mia. Haspan seeks all ties to Elowyn. You must stay veiled. You mustn’t speak too loudly through the veil.”

She stiffened. She hadn’t known it was that bad.

“If they find you....” Quenly said gravely. “....they will use your blood as bait to find her.”

Mia reached out and touched the feather pen. It pulsed beneath her fingers.

“So I hide. I stay low. And I dream of you making it out of there.”

She sighed softly.

“I’m scared too, El. Your Loyal Friend, Mia."

Her breath trembled. She lay back on the bed and squeezed the floating letter then held it in her fist, it melted into her palm, sealed by magic.

“But if I have to die again to keep you alive, I will.” Mia whispered.

She closed her eyes, and the cave dimmed further as her breathing slowed. Sleep tugged at her, and the spirits circled her protectively.

★★★

★★★

Finally, the dreaded class had arrived.

The whole academy came marching in. And as usual, Elowyn was timidly queued behind the mass of able-bodied males.

The scenting arena was no ordinary classroom. It was a large and circular platform surrounded by stone tiers and wooden beams draped with clan flags and designs. It felt ancient. Ceremonial.

Elowyn stood near the edge of the crowd, her fingers trembling lightly as she thought of the flask in her bag.

One sip left.

Just one.

The platform ahead rose slowly. Two instructors stood on it — one broad-shouldered with a bronze neck cuff, and one tall and severe with silver beads in his braids.

“Welcome to the first Scenting Class of the semester,” the tall instructor said. His voice echoed, firm and precise. “This is where the truth of who you are will be revealed....”

A beat.

“Scents are not mere natural perfumes. They are the language of the blood.”

“They confirm compatibility.”

“They signal rank.”

“They protect, seduce, deceive, and sometimes… betray.”

Murmurs rustled through the students. Some shifted uncomfortably.

"Silence!"

Silence.

Elowyn kept her face blank.

“Scenting....” the male added. “....is the only law nature never lies about.”

The speaker stepped forward.

“Now, those of you who are naturally gifted in scenting, step forward. Stand in the circle. Seniors, follow. Three straight lines.”

A dozen new cadets moved instantly — many alphas, a few betas, one or two with golden clan bands. Some newbies, too. Elowyn stayed frozen.

“Gifted newbies will each walk among the other newbies, betas and alpha seniors....” the broad-shouldered man said. “....and choose who their instincts identify as a potential pack-fellow. Now. Seniors, queue at that corner.”

Gasps and excitement stirred the group. A few cadets puffed stood straight. Some looked anxious.

There was an instant rearrangement.

The newbies who were good at scenting were left in the circle.

“There is no talking. No gestures. Just scent. Let your wolf decide. You can shut your eyes.”

And the junior, natural scenters stepped into the arena.

Elowyn’s heart nearly stopped.

Because the boy who had said creepy things to her at the gathering hall at 5:00 AM was looking at her somehow and had joined them — his eyes sharp, his nose twitching already like he was looking for something.

Or someone.

And she was standing at the back of the queue.

Scent still bound. But barely. Maybe.

And Baron? Standing far to the left, arms folded, gaze unreadable.

Please.... please stop looking at me, Elowyn begged in her head silently.

But the game had already begun.

One by one, the scent-gifted cadets closed their eyes, bowed their heads, and began to move through the still crowd.

Their movements were slow, predatory. Almost reverent.

The boy moved like a bloodhound on the trail. Not too fast. Not too eager. But with purpose. He sniffed as he passed each row, pausing at some shoulders, dismissing others without so much as a glance.

Elowyn’s breath slowed. She needed to try and relax.

Baron’s gaze flicked to her from where he stood. For a moment, it looked like his eyes narrowed — not in suspicion, but recognition. His wolf, already strained, might be responding. Again.

The strange newbie was drawing closer.

She looked away. Bit the inside of her cheek.

Another new cadet, a bulky silver-haired Beta, suddenly froze in front of a tall Alpha at the edge. He opened his eyes, nodded once.

“This one.” he said. “My wolf recognizes his bloodline.”

Cheers rose. The Alpha clapped him on the back. The instructors scribbled something.

Lucian moved forward again.

Now he was just two rows away.

Elowyn clenched her fists.

Don’t sniff me. Don’t sniff me.

Then, it happened.

Lucian paused.

Dead center in front of her row.

The air shifted.