Sherry's POV

The Academy didn’t look real.

My father had called it “neutral ground,” a place where wolves were trained for leadership under the joint rule of two Alphas.

I stared up at the gates as the car rolled to a stop, my heart pounding too hard. It felt like my first breath outside the pack house in years.

And yet… I felt so unbelievably small.

The guard scanned me, then opened the iron gates. The moment they swung inward, something tugged under my ribs—soft at first, like a feather light touch brushing my skin.

I ignored it.

Bond pain can make you feel things that aren’t real.

The driver unloaded my bags and left me standing in front of a massive stone archway engraved with shimmering runes. Students moved everywhere—laughing, dragging trunks, linking arms. Looking all confident and free.

I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle. I felt like a cracked vase placed in a room full of polished ones.

“New student?”

A bright voice pulled me back. A girl with short black curls and warm brown skin approached, balancing three books on her hip. She wore the Academy uniform—a fitted dark blue jacket over a white button-down, the sleeves rolled neatly.

“Yes,” I managed. “I’m Sherry.”

“And I’m Naomi,” she said, smiling wide. “You look like you’re about to sprint back to wherever you came from.”

Heat flushed up my neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“Painfully. But don’t worry, everyone looked like that on their first day. Well...except the rich brats from the Northern pack. They come out of the womb already arrogant.”

A tiny laugh escaped me.

Naomi looped her arm through mine before I could retreat into my shell. “Come on. I’ll show you where the first-years check in. And don’t let this place freak you out.”

As we walked beneath the stone archway, that strange tug in my chest hit again—harder this time.

A sudden rush of heat flooded through me, hot and fast, like stepping too close to a bonfire.

I stumbled.

Naomi caught my elbow. “Whoa..are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lied, my voice too thin. “Just… dizzy.”

Dizzy wasn’t even close.

As we stepped into the main courtyard, the sensation intensified—a hot feeling wrapping around my spine, drawing me deeper into the Academy grounds as if something here was calling me.

Not something.

Someone.

My pulse tripped, then raced.

This couldn’t be happening.

It was too soon—too impossible.

But my wolf rose weakly inside me for the first time since my rejection, stretching like she had been asleep.

Mate…

I froze.

No.

No, no, no.

I hadn’t even been here an hour.

I couldn’t—my bond with Eric wasn’t even fully healed. The pain still lingered like a bruise on my soul.

Naomi tugged on my sleeve. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I forced myself to inhale. The air smelled different here— pines, rain, and beneath it… a scent that made my knees almost buckle.

Power.

Alpha-level power.

Not one.

Two.

It hit me like a force—two distinct scents locked in a territorial clash.

My wolf trembled, breathless.

Mate.

And… mate.

My throat closed. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

“Sher?” Naomi asked again, softer this time.

I swallowed hard and dragged my gaze away from the open training field ahead.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t rebuilt. I wasn’t anything yet.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, though my heart was slamming against my ribs. “Let’s just… go to check-in.”

Naomi nodded and guided me toward the courtyard.

Naomi nudged me gently. “You’re staring like you’ve never seen a school before.”

“I haven’t,” I admitted, voice small. “Not like this.”

“Well,” she said, flipping her curls, “welcome to the Northern Moonlight Academy. Home of egos, drama, and the best academic program on this side of the continent.”

I smiled faintly. She made everything sound less terrifying.

We got into the check-in line. My palms were damp, and I kept wiping them against my skirt. The girl ahead of us was talking excitedly about combat electives, and the group behind us argued about who would make the Elite Patrol this year.

Everyone sounded so… capable.

I shrank a little, pulling my suitcase closer to my leg.

“Hey.” Naomi bumped our shoulders. “Relax. No one is judging you.”

“They don’t have to,” I whispered. “I’m already judging myself.”

She gave me a long look, curious, not pitying. “Rough past?”

I looked down at the tiles. “Rough enough.”

Naomi didn’t push further, which I appreciated. Instead, she distracted me by giving a mini-tour as the line crawled forward.

“Combat Hall over there. Library is that way—the one place you’ll see the Omega-born kids trying to pretend they like reading. Oh and see those banners? Blue for Crescent Shade Pack, silver for Winterbane. They run the Academy together.”

I frowned. “Two packs? Cooperating?”

She snorted. “Barely. They’re always one insult away from ripping their treaties in half. Their Alphas teach here, too, because it keeps things ‘balanced.’”

My chest tightened again, that strange low heat curling under my ribs.

I swallowed the panic.

“Do they fight?” I asked quietly.

“All the time,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Verbally, of course. They won’t risk a war. But trust me, those two hate each other.”

Naomi kept talking, but her words blurred in my ears.

Two powerful Alphas.

I forced myself to breathe slowly.

This is just nerves.

Not fate.

Not again.

When it was finally my turn, the woman at the front desk scanned my ID, then lifted her eyes in noticeable surprise.

“Sherry Williams,” she murmured. “Daughter of Alpha Albert Williams.”

Several students nearby turned, their eyes widening with recognition. My spine stiffened.

I hated that look.

The “you’re important so you must be impressive” look.

“Dorm assignment, class schedule, and campus pass,” the woman said, handing me a folder. “Welcome to the Academy. You’ll be in Dorm East, Room 317.”

Naomi clapped once. “That’s near mine! Perfect.”

We left the hall and stepped into another courtyard behind it. The moment I breathed the open air again, the low thrum in my chest returned—stronger, more noticable.

I exhaled shakily.

Naomi noticed. “You sure you’re not sick?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. It wasn’t a lie. “Maybe the air is different.”

“It’s purified with moon quartz,” she said. “Supposed to help wolves focus. Or mess with them. Depends on who you ask.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered.

She grinned.

***

The dorms were arranged in a U-shape around a small, enchanted garden. Pale silver fireflies drifted lazily around moonflowers, and the air smelled warm and wild—like herbs and earth.

As we passed by the fountain in the middle, the tug under my ribs worsted. I shivered violently—just for a second and my steps faltered.

Naomi turned immediately. “Still dizzy?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”

“Then you need food,” she declared. “Cafeteria is this way.”

“No, I…” I shook my head. “I want to put my things down first.”

“Okay.” She didn’t argue. She really was a gift from the Goddess.

We headed toward the dorm building. Students lounged on the steps, chatting, flirting, showing off. I kept my eyes on my shoes. I didn’t want to accidentally meet someone’s gaze and trigger more painful memories.

Inside, the air was cool 

and the hallway was lined with old portraits—previous pack heirs, famous warriors, Academy founders. Their eyes seemed to follow me.

My stomach twisted.

I felt like each painting was evaluating me.

Weighing me.

Finding me lacking all over again.

Naomi nudged my arm. “Relax. They can’t actually judge you.”

“Yes, they can,” I muttered. “At least it feels like it.”

We finally reached Room 317. My hands shook slightly as I unlocked the door.

Inside, sunlight spilled across two twin beds, two desks, and a large window that overlooked the garden. It was simple but beautiful and suddenly, overwhelmingly foreign.

“My roommate isn’t here yet,” I breathed out.

“Good,” Naomi said. “You can settle in before the chaos starts.”

I dragged my suitcase toward the bed by the window. My fingers trembled when I touched the comforter.

This was real.

I was here.

Far from my pack.

Far from him.

I sank onto the bed slowly, my legs unsteady beneath the weight of everything I’d run from.

Naomi sat beside me. “Sherry… you look like you’re about to fall apart.”

Her voice was gentle, not judging.

I pressed a hand to my chest. “I just… this place is so different. Everyone is so confident. I feel like everyone can smell my fear.”

“They can’t,” Naomi said firmly. “And even if they could, fear isn’t weakness. It’s information.”

I looked at her, startled.

“My aunt used to say that,” she went on. “Fear is a sign you’re leaving what’s familiar. Which means you’re growing.”

I swallowed hard.

Growing.

I wasn’t sure if that’s what this was.

It felt more like drowning but maybe drowning and growing looked the same at first.

Naomi stood and stretched. “Come on. You need food. And you need to see the campus before classes start if you want to survive.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” I said softly. “Just give me five minutes.”

“Ten,” she corrected. “You look like you need ten.”

She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Silence settled around me.

I let go.

I curled forward, elbows on my knees, hands pressed to my forehead. I didn’t cry, but the ache behind my eyes pulsed with everything I hadn’t said, hadn’t dealt with, hadn’t healed.

I was supposed to feel free.

I was supposed to start over.

But the bond pain lingered like a bruise that kept getting pressed, and the strange pull inside the Academy only made the uncertainty worse.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as that soft thrum under my ribs pulsed again.

“Please,” I whispered to no one, to anything listening. “Not again. Not yet.”

And it stirred.