Chapter 2 – The Disguise

Serena’s POV

“I did it,” I laughed into the wind. “I actually did it.” I urged my mare faster, trees whipping by as the sun threw gold bars across the trail. I had to keep one hand on the reins and the other clenched around the letter that was changing my life.

Dravenhold Academy had accepted me.

Accepted Kael Draven, technically—but Kael was me, or would be, if I pulled the rest off.

The granite gates of Bloodfang groaned open, guards dipping their heads as soon as they saw me. I slid from the saddle in one motion and jogged for the main house, heart drumming a battle rhythm.

My uncle—Alpha Corvin Draven—sat on the porch like a mountain in a chair, silver-shot beard catching the light. “Well, well,” he rumbled, opening his arms. “Ironfang’s wild cub returns.”

I crashed into his hug. “I missed you.”

He squeezed once, then eyed me. “That look says ‘trouble.’ Let me guess—you need Kael.”

“Do I ever.” I grinned. “Is he in?”

“Same mess, same room.”

I was already taking the stairs two at a time.

I didn’t knock. I shoved the door and found Kael sprawled on his bed, tossing a rubber ball at the ceiling.

“State your name, intruder,” he said without looking.

I dropped the envelope onto his chest. He caught it, sat up, and stared at the seal. “No way. What is—”

“Read.”

He broke the wax, eyes racing. A slow, delighted smile spread over his face. “Serena. You got in. Dravenhold actually bought it.”

“I got in,” I echoed, and we fell into a laughing hug.

“You passed their trials?” he demanded. “Against real Alpha heirs?”

“First in strategy,” I said, chin up. “Third in hand-to-hand.”

He whistled. “That’s my cousin. And also: this is lunacy. No one can know.”

“Which is why I need your other talent,” I said, breath settling into purpose. “Father must believe I’m leaving for Selvara Academy.”

Kael was already dragging parchment and ink closer. “Forged acceptance. Scholarship?”

“With honors,” I said, winking despite the nerves.

As he wrote, I paced a path into his rug. “There’s more. Paper won’t hide… this.” I gestured to my body—curves, voice, the feminine scent that would give me away in a breath.

He made a face. “Right. You’d be clocked the second a wolf got within arm’s reach.”

“So?”

“So,” he said, standing, “we see someone who makes the impossible look easy.”

I didn’t ask who. Kael had never once led me into a trap.

We rode off-trail until even game paths vanished. The light thinned to green gloom, the air growing old and heavy. When the shack appeared between the trees—slanted roof, moss-slung boards, a ribbon of smoke with no wood in sight—my skin prickled.

“Kael,” I whispered, suddenly unsure. “Who—”

“You’ll see.” He pushed the door, hinges complaining.

Inside smelled of crushed herbs, ash, and something sweet enough to sting. A black pot burbled on a stone slab without a single flame beneath it.

“That shouldn’t be boiling,” I breathed.

Kael put two fingers to his mouth and whistled—harsh, rising, wrong. Steam twisted, thickened, and a shape stepped out of it.

I bit down on a yelp. The woman—if “woman” fit—was all angles and hair like dark water, eyes like cloudy moons. Her skin seemed undecided about staying in this world.

“What have you dragged to my door, wolf-cub?” she rasped.

“My cousin,” Kael said, respectful but unafraid. “She needs to be hidden.”

Those misted eyes pinned me. “You wish to pass among males unseen.”

“Yes.” My voice didn’t shake.

“It can be done,” she said. “Scent dulled, shape altered, voice tuned. But there is a cost: when your blood touches your skin, the magic will loosen its grip, and cease to work when your blood comes during the moon. In those nights, caution is your only cloak.”

I weighed it for a heartbeat, then nodded. “I accept.”

“So be it.”

She moved fast—pinches of dried leaves, a vial of something dark, a murmur in a language that made the hairs on my arms lift. Smoke unfurled and wrapped me, warm as bathwater and heavy as a blanket. It slid beneath my skin, through my chest, along my throat.

Tingling spread. My curves pulled taut, flattened; my scent turned sharp and unmistakably male; my voice settled lower in my chest.

I glanced at the window’s black pane and flinched. I looked like Kael’s brother.

“It’s working.”

“It will hold until your next moon,” the witch said. “Or until you return for renewal.” And with a snap of her fingers, my body returned to normal.

“I leave tomorrow at midnight. Will it be strong then?” I asked, still reeling from shock.

A single nod. “It will.”

Kael and I exhaled together.

“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head.

Her mouth twitched. “Tread carefully, little Alpha. The road you choose is paved in blades and thorns, colored with the blood of many who tried to tread before you.”

We rode back with only hoofbeats speaking. Near the edge of Bloodfang lands, Kael finally asked, “You’re certain?”

“More than certain.” I patted the forged Selvara letter tucked beneath my cloak. “This is the only way.”

By the time the doors of Ironfang Manor loomed, my heartbeat had shifted from triumph to nerves. Kael hugged me quick and fierce, then peeled off toward the stables while I climbed the steps.

The throne room doors groaned open. My father sat beneath the weight of his crown, eyes tired but unsoftened.

“Serena?” Surprise roughened his voice. “Back so soon?”

I stepped forward and offered the letter with both hands. “Father,” I said, steady as I could make it. “We need to talk.”