Home / Werewolf / THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH / Chapter 6: The Heir’s Entrance

Share

Chapter 6: The Heir’s Entrance

Author: VANCIA
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-29 14:02:23

"Ingrid, who just came in?" I whispered, craning my neck to see past the sea of students blocking my view.

She barely spared me a glance before answering, her voice hushed but laced with intrigue. "Atlas Blackwood," she murmured, as if the name alone demanded reverence.“And?”

Ingrid snapped her head toward me so fast I nearly flinched. "And?" she hissed, eyes wide with disbelief. "Aubrey, please, tell me you’re joking.”

I blinked. “Why would I be joking?”

She exhaled in sheer frustration. “Atlas Blackwood,” she repeated, “Son of Lucian Blackwood. Heir to the Blackwood dynasty. The next Alpha is the most powerful werewolf bloodline in existence. People say he was born to rule—like power runs through his veins instead of blood.” She swallowed, lowering her voice even more. “ Like, I have told you a second ago. It's rumored his family has owned Ashwood Academy for generations. The Headmistress? She doesn’t make a single decision without the Blackwoods approving it. They’re more than just a legacy—they’re a dynasty. And Atlas?” Her eyes flickered with something between awe and fear. “Atlas is their perfect heir.”

The weight of the name settled over me, but before I could ask more, the students in front of me shifted, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of him.

Atlas Blackwood ascended the stage with an effortless grace, his movements fluid yet commanding. His back was turned to me, but even from this angle, he exuded authority...broad shoulders wrapped in crisp fabric, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he climbed the steps. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong, veined arms, and beneath the dim lighting of the grand assembly hall, the ink on his skin stood out— against his tanned complexion.

He strode toward his father, Lucian Blackwood, pausing only when he reached him. He leaned in slightly, to whispered something in his ear and whatever he said made Lucian’s expression shift ever so slightly. And he gave him a subtle nod, before Lucian turned toward the Headmistress, murmured something to her, and took a step back.

Headmistress, clearly waiting for this moment, cleared her throat. "A late arrival, I see."

Atlas turned to her with a sharp, almost practiced precision. "Apologies for being late," he said,  "Please, continue."

Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, his gaze flicked toward the crowd, scanning, searching, until finally, almost painfully slowly, he turned fully. My breath hitched.

Those blue and green... the exact same eyes that had trapped me in the shadows of the corridor. The same gaze that had stripped me down to my bones, leaving me bare beneath its weight and realization, struck like a physical blow.

The man from the restricted wing. The one who had pinned me to the wall, accused me of lying, and dragged me toward what I thought was my doom.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribs as my gaze swept over him, truly taking him in for the first time. Dark hair, effortlessly tousled yet somehow perfect. A face carved with sharp angles and an intensity that made the air around him feel heavier. His suit, tailored to his athletic build, did nothing to hide the sheer strength beneath. Every detail—every inch of him—was designed to command attention. And he did. Effortlessly. His gaze swept over the crowed until it landed on me.

For one, brief second, his eyes locked onto mine. Every muscle in my body was seized.

I couldn’t let him recognize me so I did what every person with a working mind would do.

I turned sharply, spinning 180 degrees, my only thought was to leave. I wove through the crowd, keeping my movements measured...no sudden reactions, nothing that would draw attention. The last thing I needed was to make a scene. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I neared the exit. Just a few more steps...

“Aubrey?”

I tensed as Ingrid’s voice rang out behind me, followed by quick footsteps.

“Aubrey, where are you going?” she pressed, catching up as we stepped into the quiet hallway outside the assembly hall.

“I—” My mind scrambled for an excuse. “I just needed some air.”

She frowned. “Air? We were standing for like, five minutes.”

I kept walking, but she didn’t let up. “What happened?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

Her eyes narrowed. “Liar.”

I exhaled sharply, stopping in my tracks. “I—I saw him.”

She blinked. “Who?”

I hesitated. “Atlas Blackwood.”

She snorted. “Uh, yeah? Everyone just saw him.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I saw him before.”

Her expression shifted slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Before…?”

I swallowed hard. “In the corridor. Earlier today.”

She folded her arms. “And?”

I glanced around, lowering my voice. “He...he pinned me against a wall.”

Ingrid blinked. Then she burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, Aubrey.” She clutched her stomach. “That’s hilarious. You expect me to believe that Atlas freaking Blackwood—heir to the Blackwood dynasty—just took time out of his day to what? Manhandle a random scholarship student?”

I scowled. “I’m serious.”

She wiped a fake tear from her eye. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Ingrid,” I snapped, frustration curling in my chest. “I’m not making this up.”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Let’s pretend for a second that you’re telling the truth. What did you do to piss him off?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Right,” she drawled. “Because Atlas totally runs around slamming people into walls for fun.”

I exhaled sharply. “I got lost, okay? That’s it. I didn’t know I was in a restricted area.”

Her smirk faded slightly. “Wait, you actually ran into him?”

I glared. “What have I been saying?”

She let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re lucky he didn’t rip your throat out.”

I stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“You know how powerful the Blackwoods are, right?” Ingrid lowered her voice, glancing around. “They’re not just rich—they run this place. And Atlas is the most powerful Alpha in the history of blackwood bloodlines.”

My stomach sank. “Great,” I muttered.

Ingrid tilted her head. “ Didn’t he recognize you?”

I swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know...”

She studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Well, if he does… you’re screwed.”

“Thanks,” I deadpanned.

She grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you mysteriously disappear one day, I’ll totally start an investigation.”

I shoved her off. “Not funny.”

She only laughed, but as we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that what if Atlas Blackwood had recognized me.

Later that night, the dorm room was silent, save for the faint rustle of sheets as I turned onto my side for what felt like the hundredth time. The moonlight seeped through the curtains in thin, silvery streaks, casting long shadows across the walls. Ingrid’s soft breathing filled the space, steady and unbothered. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, lost in dreams of gowns and glittering chandeliers.

I, however, was wide awake because every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.

Atlas Blackwood.

His gaze, blue and green, burned into the backs of my eyelids. It haunted me, pulling me back to the moment our eyes met across the corridor.

I shifted again, tugging the blanket up to my chin. My pulse was still unsteady, like my body hadn’t realized the encounter was over. It wasn’t just the way he looked at me—it was the weight of his presence, the way his voice had curled around my spine like a chain, the way his touch had lingered long after he let go.

And yet, despite the fear that had gripped me earlier, something else was there now. A feeling I couldn’t name.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Stop thinking about him."

But it was useless. His name, his face, the way his muscles tensed beneath inked skin—it all took root in my thoughts, refusing to let go. I didn’t know what Atlas Blackwood was to me yet. An enemy. A danger. A force I wasn’t meant to cross paths with...

Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App

Related chapters

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 7: The First Taste of Ashwood

    NEXT MORNINGThe sheets were yanked off my body with a suddenness that jolted me out of a dreamless, restless sleep and the cold air spilled over my skin like a slap.“Get up, Aubrey,” Ingrid’s voice broke through the fog of half-sleep, sharp and impatient. “We’re already late.”I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head. “Late for what?” My voice was hoarse, disoriented. For a fleeting second, I thought I was home—the familiar creak of the wooden floorboards beneath Ingrid’s steps felt like a sound I’d heard a thousand times before in another life. But the ceiling above me was too high, the air too cold, and the walls too silent. Then it hit me, the way a dream slips away and reality digs its claws in.I wasn’t home.Ashwood’s dormitory pressed in around me—strange, cold, and faintly smelling of lavender soap. The events of yesterday returned in fragments, heavy as stones. The assembly. The eyes. Atlas Blackwood.“Breakfast,” Ingrid said, emphasizing each syllable as if speaking to a

    Last Updated : 2025-04-29
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 8: Omega Among Swans

    A high-pitched voice weaving through the hum of the dining hall like birdsong. My gaze flicked toward the sound, landing on a table not far from ours. A cluster of girls, all dressed in perfectly pressed uniforms with blazers that looked tailored and shoes that gleamed unnaturally bright, sat perched like a flock of swans, graceful and poised. Their hair was glossy, cascading in carefully curated waves or tied back with silk ribbons. Every move they made seemed deliberate—effortless, yet studied.The beta pack.Even if Ingrid hadn’t pointed them out to me on our first day, I would’ve known. There was a kind of quiet authority to them, the way they sat without needing to assert their presence—the room bent around them naturally. They didn’t speak loudly, but their chirping voices seemed to carry all the same.“I have already told my seamstress—silver, with a slit, nothing less.”“Do you think they’ll announce the names at the end? Or only those who matter?”Their words slipped over one

    Last Updated : 2025-04-29
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 9: The Gilded Cage Opens

    The envelope gleamed like it had no right to, resting in the hollow between Ingrid’s bed and mine—as if it had been dropped there by some unseen hand that knew exactly where to place a dagger when your guard was down.I stared at it, unmoving. The world outside our dormitory window was a blur of gray clouds and skeletal branches, but inside, everything seemed too quiet. The envelope, its gold filigree catching the dim light with a shimmer that felt almost smug.“Ingrid,” I said, my voice hoarse from disuse and the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin. “Look.”She didn’t move at first. She was busy unlacing her boots with exaggerated effort, and muttering about her aching feet and the tyranny of staircase-heavy architecture. But the moment her gaze landed on the envelope, her entire demeanor shifted.“Oh my god,” she breathed, lunging for it with a grace that belied her fatigue. “Is that—”“It has our names,” I murmured, fingers brushing the front of the envelope as she held

    Last Updated : 2025-04-29
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 10: The Gilded Tongues and Barbed Smiles

    NEXT DAYI woke to the sensation of something being thrown at me—soft, yes, but with the precise weight and velocity that suggested malicious intent. The object—a pillow, as it turned out—bounced off my shoulder and hit the floor with a muffled thud. I groaned, burrowing deeper into my blankets, hoping, foolishly, that if I ignored the chaos stirring on Ingrid’s side of the room, it would eventually burn itself out like one of her short-lived obsessions.No such luck.“Aubrey Sinclair, get up,” Ingrid declared, her voice bright and entirely too enthusiastic for this hour—whatever this hour even was. I cracked open one eye to find her already dressed, hair braided over one shoulder in that effortless way that somehow still looked like it belonged on the cover of a glossy society magazine. She stood before our shared wardrobe, holding up a series of garments to herself like she was preparing for battle. “Today’s the day.”I blinked at her, my mind still sluggish with sleep. “The day for

    Last Updated : 2025-04-29
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 11: Of Starlit Surprises and Social Schemes

    “I’m adaptable.” Ingrid’s grin was all sharp teeth and misplaced optimism, but before I could muster a retort, she tugged me forward—through the arched doorway of the Common Hall and into the marble corridors beyond.I let myself be pulled along, more out of resignation than compliance, feet scuffing against the stone like a prisoner being marched to the gallows. The halls, gilded and cold, echoed with the faint hum of laughter and footsteps, each sound a reminder that I was a foreigner in a kingdom of bloodlines and inherited grace.We reached the east wing—quieter, older, the air tinged with the scent of earth and green things. The greenhouse loomed ahead, its iron-framed dome glinting in the pale afternoon light. Inside, condensation streaked down the glass panes, softening the sharp angles of the world beyond, turning Ashwood’s manicured grounds into something dreamlike and distant.Ingrid pushed the door open with a flourish. The greenhouse wasn’t as crowded as the Common Hall, b

    Last Updated : 2025-04-29
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 12: In the Quiet Between Questions

    A WEEK LATERI was sitting in the library all by myself. The library always held a certain quiet magic to it — not the kind woven from spells or enchantments, but something older, weightier. As if the very air had absorbed centuries of whispered secrets, bound and pressed between the spines of books that lined every wall. The hush wasn’t peaceful — not exactly — but it offered a kind of sanctuary, especially on days when the world beyond its walls felt too sharp, too loud, too suffocating.I sat nestled in the alcove between two arched windows, the afternoon light slanting in dusty beams across the parchment on my lap. Ink smudged at the corner of my notes, the quill in my hand idle for longer than it should’ve been. Concentration was a slippery thing today, evading my grasp no matter how tightly I tried to cling to it. My eyes scanned the same line of text for what had to be the fifth time, but the words refused to settle. Instead, my attention drifted to the low murmur of voices jus

    Last Updated : 2025-04-30
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 13: Of Broken Curfews and Threaded Secret

    The moment Ingrid closed the door behind her, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, I knew I had made a mistake.“I’m not going,” I said immediately, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could shield me from whatever ridiculous scheme she was about to propose.Ingrid, unfazed, tilted her head in mock consideration, then shrugged. “Yes, you are.”“No, I’m not.”“Yes, you are.”I sighed, exasperated, and turned my attention back to the book I had been attempting to read before she so rudely barged in. My gaze flicked across the words, but the meaning slipped away, lost beneath the weight of my own mounting frustration. “You can’t force me, Ingrid. I don’t care about the Moonlit Ball, and I definitely don’t need a tailor for something I’m not attending.”“Oh, but you see, Sinclair, I can force you.” Ingrid waltzed deeper into my dorm, her fingers trailing idly over my desk as she surveyed the mess of papers and ink-stained notes. “Because if you refuse, I’ll simply tell

    Last Updated : 2025-05-01
  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 14: Where No Eyes Should See

    For a long, breathless moment, I couldn’t quite process what I was seeing.Atlas Blackwood moved with the kind of unhurried confidence that suggested he belonged anywhere he chose to stand. The heavy wooden door of the bar groaned open before him, spilling a sliver of dim candlelight onto the deserted cobblestone street. He barely hesitated before stepping inside, disappearing into the shadows beyond.I stiffened, my pulse skipping in sharp surprise. Atlas Blackwood, here at this hour.The realization slithered through me, cold and unwelcome. Whatever business he had in town—especially in a place like this—was none of mine. And yet, as the door swung shut behind him, sealing him away from my view, unease coiled tight in my chest, leaving behind a distinct, inexplicable wrongness.“Did you see that?” Ingrid’s voice was hushed but urgent, her fingers still wrapped tightly around my wrist.I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Obviously.”She turned to me, her features illuminated by the

    Last Updated : 2025-05-02

Latest chapter

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 15: A Seat at the Wolf’s Table

    Atlas Blackwood sat just beyond this wooden divide, his voice a quiet, edged thing in the silence.“I don’t want to go,” he muttered, frustration simmering beneath the words. “And I sure as hell don’t see why I should have to.”“You know why,” The other voice said, as he had said this a hundred times before and had long since grown tired of repeating it. “It’s not just a ball. It’s about presence.”Atlas scoffed. “Presence,” he echoed, the word dripping with disdain. “As if dressing in silk and standing around sipping wine will prove anything.”The other boy huffed a quiet laugh. “You don’t have to like it. But you do have to be there.”Atlas exhaled sharply, the sound edged with irritation. “It’s a distraction. The Academy wastes its time with these events while the Council focuses on decorum and tradition, instead of what actually matters.” A pause. A deeper breath. “Instead of the trial. Instead of training.”My pulse stuttered. “The Trial. There it was again. What trial are they t

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 14: Where No Eyes Should See

    For a long, breathless moment, I couldn’t quite process what I was seeing.Atlas Blackwood moved with the kind of unhurried confidence that suggested he belonged anywhere he chose to stand. The heavy wooden door of the bar groaned open before him, spilling a sliver of dim candlelight onto the deserted cobblestone street. He barely hesitated before stepping inside, disappearing into the shadows beyond.I stiffened, my pulse skipping in sharp surprise. Atlas Blackwood, here at this hour.The realization slithered through me, cold and unwelcome. Whatever business he had in town—especially in a place like this—was none of mine. And yet, as the door swung shut behind him, sealing him away from my view, unease coiled tight in my chest, leaving behind a distinct, inexplicable wrongness.“Did you see that?” Ingrid’s voice was hushed but urgent, her fingers still wrapped tightly around my wrist.I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Obviously.”She turned to me, her features illuminated by the

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 13: Of Broken Curfews and Threaded Secret

    The moment Ingrid closed the door behind her, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, I knew I had made a mistake.“I’m not going,” I said immediately, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could shield me from whatever ridiculous scheme she was about to propose.Ingrid, unfazed, tilted her head in mock consideration, then shrugged. “Yes, you are.”“No, I’m not.”“Yes, you are.”I sighed, exasperated, and turned my attention back to the book I had been attempting to read before she so rudely barged in. My gaze flicked across the words, but the meaning slipped away, lost beneath the weight of my own mounting frustration. “You can’t force me, Ingrid. I don’t care about the Moonlit Ball, and I definitely don’t need a tailor for something I’m not attending.”“Oh, but you see, Sinclair, I can force you.” Ingrid waltzed deeper into my dorm, her fingers trailing idly over my desk as she surveyed the mess of papers and ink-stained notes. “Because if you refuse, I’ll simply tell

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 12: In the Quiet Between Questions

    A WEEK LATERI was sitting in the library all by myself. The library always held a certain quiet magic to it — not the kind woven from spells or enchantments, but something older, weightier. As if the very air had absorbed centuries of whispered secrets, bound and pressed between the spines of books that lined every wall. The hush wasn’t peaceful — not exactly — but it offered a kind of sanctuary, especially on days when the world beyond its walls felt too sharp, too loud, too suffocating.I sat nestled in the alcove between two arched windows, the afternoon light slanting in dusty beams across the parchment on my lap. Ink smudged at the corner of my notes, the quill in my hand idle for longer than it should’ve been. Concentration was a slippery thing today, evading my grasp no matter how tightly I tried to cling to it. My eyes scanned the same line of text for what had to be the fifth time, but the words refused to settle. Instead, my attention drifted to the low murmur of voices jus

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 11: Of Starlit Surprises and Social Schemes

    “I’m adaptable.” Ingrid’s grin was all sharp teeth and misplaced optimism, but before I could muster a retort, she tugged me forward—through the arched doorway of the Common Hall and into the marble corridors beyond.I let myself be pulled along, more out of resignation than compliance, feet scuffing against the stone like a prisoner being marched to the gallows. The halls, gilded and cold, echoed with the faint hum of laughter and footsteps, each sound a reminder that I was a foreigner in a kingdom of bloodlines and inherited grace.We reached the east wing—quieter, older, the air tinged with the scent of earth and green things. The greenhouse loomed ahead, its iron-framed dome glinting in the pale afternoon light. Inside, condensation streaked down the glass panes, softening the sharp angles of the world beyond, turning Ashwood’s manicured grounds into something dreamlike and distant.Ingrid pushed the door open with a flourish. The greenhouse wasn’t as crowded as the Common Hall, b

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 10: The Gilded Tongues and Barbed Smiles

    NEXT DAYI woke to the sensation of something being thrown at me—soft, yes, but with the precise weight and velocity that suggested malicious intent. The object—a pillow, as it turned out—bounced off my shoulder and hit the floor with a muffled thud. I groaned, burrowing deeper into my blankets, hoping, foolishly, that if I ignored the chaos stirring on Ingrid’s side of the room, it would eventually burn itself out like one of her short-lived obsessions.No such luck.“Aubrey Sinclair, get up,” Ingrid declared, her voice bright and entirely too enthusiastic for this hour—whatever this hour even was. I cracked open one eye to find her already dressed, hair braided over one shoulder in that effortless way that somehow still looked like it belonged on the cover of a glossy society magazine. She stood before our shared wardrobe, holding up a series of garments to herself like she was preparing for battle. “Today’s the day.”I blinked at her, my mind still sluggish with sleep. “The day for

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 9: The Gilded Cage Opens

    The envelope gleamed like it had no right to, resting in the hollow between Ingrid’s bed and mine—as if it had been dropped there by some unseen hand that knew exactly where to place a dagger when your guard was down.I stared at it, unmoving. The world outside our dormitory window was a blur of gray clouds and skeletal branches, but inside, everything seemed too quiet. The envelope, its gold filigree catching the dim light with a shimmer that felt almost smug.“Ingrid,” I said, my voice hoarse from disuse and the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin. “Look.”She didn’t move at first. She was busy unlacing her boots with exaggerated effort, and muttering about her aching feet and the tyranny of staircase-heavy architecture. But the moment her gaze landed on the envelope, her entire demeanor shifted.“Oh my god,” she breathed, lunging for it with a grace that belied her fatigue. “Is that—”“It has our names,” I murmured, fingers brushing the front of the envelope as she held

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 8: Omega Among Swans

    A high-pitched voice weaving through the hum of the dining hall like birdsong. My gaze flicked toward the sound, landing on a table not far from ours. A cluster of girls, all dressed in perfectly pressed uniforms with blazers that looked tailored and shoes that gleamed unnaturally bright, sat perched like a flock of swans, graceful and poised. Their hair was glossy, cascading in carefully curated waves or tied back with silk ribbons. Every move they made seemed deliberate—effortless, yet studied.The beta pack.Even if Ingrid hadn’t pointed them out to me on our first day, I would’ve known. There was a kind of quiet authority to them, the way they sat without needing to assert their presence—the room bent around them naturally. They didn’t speak loudly, but their chirping voices seemed to carry all the same.“I have already told my seamstress—silver, with a slit, nothing less.”“Do you think they’ll announce the names at the end? Or only those who matter?”Their words slipped over one

  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 7: The First Taste of Ashwood

    NEXT MORNINGThe sheets were yanked off my body with a suddenness that jolted me out of a dreamless, restless sleep and the cold air spilled over my skin like a slap.“Get up, Aubrey,” Ingrid’s voice broke through the fog of half-sleep, sharp and impatient. “We’re already late.”I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head. “Late for what?” My voice was hoarse, disoriented. For a fleeting second, I thought I was home—the familiar creak of the wooden floorboards beneath Ingrid’s steps felt like a sound I’d heard a thousand times before in another life. But the ceiling above me was too high, the air too cold, and the walls too silent. Then it hit me, the way a dream slips away and reality digs its claws in.I wasn’t home.Ashwood’s dormitory pressed in around me—strange, cold, and faintly smelling of lavender soap. The events of yesterday returned in fragments, heavy as stones. The assembly. The eyes. Atlas Blackwood.“Breakfast,” Ingrid said, emphasizing each syllable as if speaking to a

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status