Chapter 5: New Boy in Town

Rowan’s POV

The scent of ash still clings to my jacket no matter how many times I wash it.

I shouldn’t be thinking about it. Not here. Not now. But every time I blink, I see flames. Hear the screams.

Feel the weight of responsibility pressing into my shoulders like it always does. Being an Alpha doesn’t mean the guilt goes away. If anything, it makes it worse.

The rogues didn’t just attack the school.

They attacked a pack home. Our home.

The Crimson Night Pack.

My pack.

One minute, we were prepping for midterms, and the next roaring flames, snarling muzzles, teeth bared in bloodthirst. I’d shifted mid-hallway, torn my uniform to shreds, trying to protect as many as I could.

But even with all the power of an Alpha, I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I lost people that night—friends, warriors, pups.

We all did.

And now, we’re scattered.

Some went to extended families. Some into hiding. The rest? We’re still regrouping. Still trying to rebuild. But I couldn’t stay behind. Not when the Council decided I needed to be here—at Ridgewood High.

A neutral territory. Safe. Supposedly.

“Watch your back, Rivers,” my uncle warned when he dropped me off this morning. “Just because you’re out of the fire doesn’t mean the embers can’t still burn you.”

Helpful advice, right?

I push the school doors open and step inside. It smells like fresh polish and teenage hormones.

Nothing like the old building where I could pick out five wolf scents from the front steps and know who was on their third cup of coffee before second period.

Here? It’s mostly human.

A few faint traces of other wolves, but not many. And none familiar.

I let my senses stretch out, brushing through the air like invisible fingers, mapping everything: sounds, scents.

There’s tension in the walls here too—something beneath the surface. I feel it coiled like a snake ready to strike.

There’s another Alpha here. A strong one.

But I’m not here to start fights.

Not yet.

I keep my shoulders square and posture open. Don’t look too threatening. Don’t look too weak either. The new guy. Tall. Broad. Black hoodie and boots.

I make eye contact. But keep walking toward the front office.

And then I smell it.

Sweet. Vanilla. Jasmine.

The world tilts for a split second.

I stop mid-step, my hand falling to the locker beside me for support. My wolf, Ronan, goes absolutely silent in my head and then lets out a low, deep growl that rolls through my skull like thunder.

Mate.

The word detonates inside me like a bomb.

My breath catches. My chest tightens. My pulse spikes in my throat. Every muscle goes taut with awareness, like I’m about to fight or bolt.

But there’s no threat.

Just her.

I look up, scanning the hallway like a man possessed.

And then I see her.

She’s standing near the trophy case, arms crossed loosely, her hair tumbling down in soft waves the color of roasted chestnuts.

She’s not looking at me just chatting with another girl who’s clearly doing most of the talking. She laughs at something, and the sound slams into me like a punch to the gut.

Mine.

No. It can’t be. I don’t even know her name.

But Ronan doesn’t care. He’s already howling. Pacing. Ready to leap through my skin and throw himself at her feet.

She’s human, I remind him, trying to breathe.

“Doesn’t matter,” he growls. “She’s ours.”

I can’t move. I can barely think. Everything I’ve been through, every scar, every burned-down memory, every loss fades into the background.

All I can see is her. Like the rest of the world blurred away and left me staring at the only thing that matters. I don’t know how long I stand there like an idiot before she finally notices me.

Her gaze shifts across the hallway and lands on mine. And the moment our eyes meet.. the world goes silent.

I hear my heartbeat. Her breath. The way her fingers twitch slightly like she feels it too—something tugging. Something undeniable between us.

She blinks, then looks away quickly, almost like the connection scared her.

I almost reached for her. Almost cross the hallway and say something—anything.

But she’s already walking off, her friend dragging her toward class, completely unaware that she just shattered the center of my universe.

Mate.

Not a possibility. Not a maybe.

A fact.

My hands tremble as I force my feet to move.

“Rowan Rivers?”

A sharp voice slices through the fog in my head. I blink and turn toward the front desk. The secretary’s peering at me over her glasses, tapping a clipboard with one impatient, manicured finger.

“You’re late,” she says flatly. “Here. Schedule. Locker. And a map, in case you get lost.”

I nod, mutter a thanks, and grab the papers. But my hands are shaking. Still.

I glance at the list. We have a few classes together. Good. That’s something.

But I can’t storm into her life like a freight train. Not when she’s clearly human and I’m a walking secret with a violent past and a wolf howling at the gates. The last thing I want to do is scare her.

I made it through the first period in a daze. I barely register the teacher, the students, or even the kid who tries to strike up small talk beside me.

By second, I’m a little more alert but only because I keep catching her scent every few minutes. Like the universe is dangling her in front of me on purpose. She’s close. Somewhere in the building.

My senses are sharper now. My walls are up. I can feel other wolves in the school faint traces, but one stands out.

It prickles at the back of my neck, but I ignore it for now. In the third period, fate decides to punch me in the gut. Because she walks in.

She’s got that same effortless, unaware grace that makes my wolf ache. She’s biting her lower lip as she checks the seating chart, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder.

She doesn’t notice me at first. Rummages through her bag, muttering to herself about forgetting something. She drops her pencil.

When she leans down to pick it up, her hair brushes my arm. And I almost lost control. The mate bond snaps into place like a live wire.

Ronan snarls so loud in my head it echoes. Touch her. Claim her. She’s ours. I grit my teeth and dig my nails into my thigh under the desk.

“Not yet.”

She finally glances over, realizing I’m there. Her eyes widened slightly.

“You’re the transfer, right?” she asks, her voice soft. Curious. Like she hasn’t already knocked my entire world off its axis.

I nod, heart hammering so loud I’m worried she might hear it. “Rowan.” She smiles, and I feel my soul unravel.

“Aurora,” she says, offering a polite, casual smile that kills me. She has no idea what she just said. No idea what her name means to me now.

Aurora.

My mate.

“It’s.. nice to meet you,” I manage, barely holding myself together. She smiles again—just a little this time. Then turns back to her notebook, humming something under her breath.

She doesn’t feel it. Not yet. Maybe not at all. But I do. She must not be sixteen yet? Every molecule in my body is screaming to pull her close, to explain, to fall at her feet and beg the Moon Goddess for mercy.

But I won’t rush her. I can’t. Because the moment she learns what I am… what we are.. her entire life is going to change.

And she deserves to make that choice herself. Still, one thing is certain etched in blood and bone. Now that I’ve found her, I’m not letting her go. Not even if it means tearing down the entire world to keep her safe.