Temptation at first day pt 1

Lyra’s Pov

“Is it a must I attend this terrible school?” I muttered, arms crossed as I stared at the looming gates from the car. Just looking at it made my stomach twist. “I already hate it. I don’t need to learn the wolf laws—besides, I’m not even a wolf. So why make me a prey to them?”

“You should be grateful Father enrolled you in a place like this,” Chloe sneered beside me. “If it were up to me, I’d have left you back on the streets, where you belong. You’re a nobody.”

“Chloe!” Richard scolded sharply.

“Grateful?” I scoffed. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I know you don’t want me here. I just don’t understand what your problem is with me. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Girls,” Richard said with a sigh. “You’re sisters. You shouldn’t be fighting.”

“Sisters?” Chloe laughed bitterly. “As if. She’s an outcast. She’ll never be my sister.”

She turned to me, her eyes sharp with warning. “Don’t look at me at school. Don’t even think of talking to me.”

Chase rolled his eyes at his sister’s dramatic exit as she slammed the car door and stormed off.

“Chase,” Father said, turning to him, “can you be Lyra’s guide and protector in school until she finds her way?”

“Yes, Father. You don’t even need to ask,” Chase replied with an easy grin. Then he turned to me. “Come on, Lyra. I’m your tourist and guide today,” he teased lightly.

Finally stepping out of the car, I got a better look at the school grounds. The place was quiet—no students in sight. The silence made my skin prickle.

Chase seemed to pick up on my unease. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” he said, but that was far from the truth. My worries had nothing to do with fitting in.

All I wanted was revenge—and to leave my father’s pack behind. I had no interest in learning his values or anything they stood for.

To them, I was a hybrid. A mere human.

But I knew the truth. I wasn’t just human. And I might even be stronger than them all.

The iron gates creaked open, revealing the infamous Werewolf Academy. Massive stone towers stabbed into the overcast sky, their gothic spires casting long, crooked shadows. A cool wind whipped around me, tugging at my bag, carrying the earthy scent of pine... and something wild. Primal.

This wasn’t just a school. It felt like a predator waiting to pounce.

As we passed through the gates and entered the building, Chase gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” he said with a nod.

I stepped forward, my boots crunching on the gravel, each step louder than the last. Around me, students moved in packs. Some were half-shifted—glowing eyes, sharpened nails and twitching ears.

Laughter echoed somewhere nearby. But not friendly.

Eyes turned toward me—mocking, judging and Whispers rose in a chorus.

That’s her.

The hybrid.

The alpha’s in-legitimate child.

My pulse quickened, but I kept my head high. I refused to let them see even a flicker of fear.

I shook my head in silence. I already knew I wouldn’t like it here. Another set of snobbish animals obsessed with ranks and bloodlines.

Their uniforms bore with stitched crests in silver, crimson, and black—Moonfangs, Bloodclaws, Shadowmanes. I recognized the names from the books Mother used to give me about Father’s pack.

“She walks like she owns the world,” someone whispered.

In contrast, I wore a plain, academy-issued jacket. No crest. No pack. Just the label of an outsider stamped across me.

A trio of students passed, their eyes like daggers. They didn’t bother hiding their disgust.

Ahead, the main hall loomed—carved with ancient runes that pulsed faintly as Chase and I walked beneath them. They tickled my skin like static, reacting to something inside me… the blood, maybe.

“This is your first class, Lyra,” Chase said, pointing at his. “My class is at the end of the hallway. Intro to Pack Dynamics—Room 3C.”

I looked down at the crumpled schedule in my sweaty palm and nodded.

“I’ll come to you right after class,” he added.

“Alright.” I gave him a small smile, watching as he walked away.

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed open the door.

Silence hit me like a slap.

Every head turned towards me.

Thirty pairs of eyes. Some curious and some amused, most of them indifferent.

But a few? Sharp, hungry and judging.

I stepped in, back straight, eyes forward, pretending their stares didn’t weigh on me like chains.

At the front of the class stood a broad-shouldered man with gray-streaked hair.

****

He raised a brow, then checked a list in the folder he held.

“Lyra Parker?” he asked.

I gave a nod.

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. “The hybrid.”

A ripple went through the room like a wolf pack scenting blood.

I stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

He gestured to the only empty seat—front row, in the dead center, of course.

I walked to it, trying to ignore the murmurs, and the snickers behind cupped hands. I slid into the chair, my cheeks burning.

A girl behind me whispered loudly enough for half the room to hear, “Should’ve put her in a cage, not a classroom.”

Another one laughed. “What if she has a virus and infects us?”

“Silence, all of you,” the teacher snapped. “I’m teaching here.”

Of course, he wouldn’t really step in. He wouldn’t stop them from throwing shades or bullying me.

Amira growled inside me—low and deadly. Let me out, she hissed. Just for a second.

Not now, I told her. Not yet.

I focused on the board as the instructor started lecturing about pack hierarchy, but I barely heard a word. My ears were too busy picking up every side comment, every breath that wasn’t mine.

I wasn’t just the new girl—I was the threat no one wanted. The half-breed and the mistake.

The class dragged on like a slow burn. I kept my eyes forward, pretending not to hear the quiet snickers behind me or feel the occasional thump of a well-aimed paper ball hitting my desk.

My jaw ached from clenching, and Amira paced at the back of my mind, restless and simmering.

When the instructor finally dismissed us, I didn’t bother to look around. I grabbed my bag and made for the door, heading into the hallway.

But I didn’t make it far.

A group slid into my path, blocking my wall in the hallway. Leading them was someone taller than most of the girls around but not more than me, her sleek auburn hair pulled into a high braid that shimmered like flame under the flickering hallway lights.

Her uniform was custom-cut, bearing the blood-red crest of the Bloodclaw Pack. Alpha-born—no doubt about it.

I hadn’t gotten a full look at her back at home, but now it was clear. Her smile was razor-sharp and venomous.

“Well, well,” she said, loud enough to grab attention, “if it isn’t my darling older stepsister.”

My stomach twisted.

“Chloe,” I said, keeping my voice flat.

Chloe Parker. My father’s legitimate daughter. A daily reminder that I was the bastard. The curse of the family.

She stepped closer, her scent cloying—roses and rot.

“I was wondering when you’d finally crawl in,” she said. “They had to clear out a whole storage room just to fit a hybrid, didn’t they?”

The hallway filled with laughter.

I tried to move past her, but one of her friends—a tall boy with coal-black eyes and a cruel grin—blocked my way.

Another girl with silver-blonde hair leaned against the lockers, fake sympathy painted all over her face.

“Don’t be shy, Lyra,” Chloe said, circling me slowly. “Everyone’s just dying to see what the academy let in this year. Daddy must have begged for them to accept you.”

I stood still, heat creeping up my neck.

“Or maybe,” she continued, tilting her head, “they thought it’d be fun to keep a mutt around for practice dummies.”

Her friends laughed again—louder this time. The hallway echoed with it.

I felt something sharp stir inside me—hot, and wild.

Amira surged forward, clawing at the walls I’d built to keep her contained. My vision flickers at the edges. Heat crawled over my skin.

Let me handle this, she snarled. Let me rip the smile off her face.

I blinked hard and exhaled slowly, pushing Amira back. But it wasn’t easy.

Chloe must’ve noticed the flicker in my eyes because she paused. Her smirk wavered—just for a second.

“Oh?” she said, voice lower now. “Don’t tell me the little hybrid’s going to snap already?”

“I’m not here to fight you,” I said tightly.

“No, of course not,” she purred. “Because fighting requires strength. Control. Things you don’t have.”

That did it.

My nails extended—just enough for her to see. My breathing turned uneven. My pulse thundered in my ears. And Amira—my wolf—laughed in my head.

I couldn’t control my anger anymore.