You don't look fine.

Rose's POV

The academy corridors seemed colder than usual as I walked, every torch flicker casting warped shadows that stretched and twisted along the stone walls. I kept replaying everything—his voice, his nearness, the humiliation of kneeling—and each memory hit like an aftershock.

Private tutoring.

At seven.

Every night.

Seven hours from now.

My stomach twisted.

By the time I reached the student dorms, the halls buzzed with evening chatter. Laughter. Footsteps. The clatter of dinner trays being returned. Life moved as if nothing had changed.

As if my world hadn’t just been turned inside out by one man.

I slipped inside my single room and locked the door behind me, leaning against it until the adrenaline drained from my limbs, leaving me weak.

The room was small—a bed, a desk, a wardrobe—but it was mine. My sanctuary. Usually.

Tonight, it felt like a waiting room before judgment.

I dropped my bag on the bed, sank to the floor, and buried my face in my hands.

“What the hell did you do, Rose…” I whispered into the silence.

My wolf shifted uneasily, prowling under my skin, restless in a way I’d never felt before. It replayed the feel of Jason’s fingers in my hair. The growl vibrating through his chest. The command in his voice.

Submit.

I shuddered.

It was wrong.

Twisted.

Dangerous.

And part of me—the part I hated—was still kneeling on that stone floor in front of him.

A knock shattered the silence.

Three soft taps.

Not forceful. Not urgent.

But deliberate.

My heart stuttered.

No one visited me. I barely had friends here. Not since people realized I was the scholarship omega. Easy to ignore. Easier to use.

I rose slowly and opened the door a crack.

Marcus stood there—the beta who’d given me that pitying glance on the way out.

He looked nervous. His brown eyes darted down the hall before settling on me.

“Rose… you okay?” he whispered. “You froze up pretty bad when Professor Voss called you back.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

I forced a smile that felt like it would crack my face. “It’s just… assignment stuff.”

He hesitated, chewing his lip. “Rose, everyone knows Voss doesn’t… handle things the normal way.”

A beat.

“He breaks people.”

The words hit me like cold water.

“What do you mean?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

Marcus glanced around again, then stepped closer, lowering his voice until his breath ghosted the shell of my ear.

“There’ve been rumors. About private tutoring. About what he asks for. About what happens to the omegas who disappoint him.” His expression tightened. “He’s an alpha. And not the gentle kind.”

My pulse hammered. “You’re saying he—?”

Marcus cut me off, whispering sharply:

“I’m saying be careful. Whatever he wants from you… he takes it. And he doesn’t stop.”

A chill crawled down my spine.

Marcus stepped back, his shoulders tense. “If you need help… anything, just—just come find me.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

And then he left—quickly, disappearing down the hall before I could form a reply.

I stood in my doorway for a long moment, frozen.

Marcus’s warning hung in the air like a curse.

But even as fear knotted in my stomach, even as logic screamed at me to run—drop out, disappear, save myself—

my wolf had gone quiet.

Not fearful.

Not submissive.

Expectant.

Like it already accepted what was coming.

Like it wanted to know exactly how far Jason Voss would push me…

and what I would become under his hands.

Time crawled.

I couldn’t eat. The thought of food turned my stomach into a churning mess. I tried to distract myself by flipping through my notes from other classes, but the words blurred on the page. My mind kept drifting back to Jason’s office, to the way his silver eyes had pinned me in place earlier that day. How had he known about the plagiarism? Had someone tipped him off, or was he just that perceptive, that attuned to every little deception in his domain?

I paced the room, my bare feet silent on the worn rug. The academy’s walls were thick, built to muffle the howls during full moons, but tonight they felt suffocating. I glanced at the clock every few minutes, watching the hands creep forward like reluctant soldiers.

At five, I tried to nap, curling up on the bed with my knees drawn to my chest. Sleep evaded me. Instead, visions played behind my closed eyelids: Jason’s hand on my chin, forcing my gaze up. The faint scar running along his jawline, a remnant of some long-ago battle. The way his lips had curved when I begged— not with cruelty, exactly, but with a satisfaction that made my skin prickle.

By six, I gave up and showered, letting the hot water scald away the tension. It didn’t work. If anything, the steam made me feel more trapped, more aware of my own body. I dressed simply—jeans, a fitted shirt, nothing provocative. But as I buttoned it, my fingers trembled. What if he saw through that too? What if this was all a game to him, a way to toy with the desperate omega before casting me out?

At six-thirty, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of someone who looked too pale and too tense, with shadows under his eyes and a future hanging by a thread.

I tried to steady my breathing.

“It’s just tutoring,” I whispered.

But even I didn’t believe that.

Finally, when the clock hit 6:53, I forced myself out of the room, down the darkened hall, and toward the restricted wing.

Each step echoed.

The restricted wing was off-limits to most students, a labyrinth of offices and archives reserved for faculty and high-ranking pack members. The air here was cooler, scented with old books and polished wood, undercut by the faint, metallic tang of silver— a reminder that even alphas like Jason had tools to keep the feral at bay.

By 6:59, I stood outside his office—Room 309—heart threatening to explode out of my chest.

A soft glow leaked from under the door.

He was inside.

Waiting.

My fingers hovered over the handle.

Before I could knock, his voice rolled through the door like thunder.

“Enter.”