Zara’s POV
The hallway is quieter now, most students already in their rooms or out at training grounds. I’m headed back to my dorm, my mind heavy with everything that’s happened today. I just want to shut the door behind me, curl up, and block out the world. But apparently, the world isn’t done with me yet. I don’t see them at first, not until I turn the corner and nearly walk right into them. Three girls. The same ones at the sidelines. They’re stunning. The kind of stunning that looks effortless, like they were born for the spotlight. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect sneers. They block my path, arms folded, eyes glittering with something sharp and unkind. For a heartbeat, I consider turning around, pretending I took the wrong turn. But I know better. Predators don’t let prey go that easy. “Well, well,” the tallest one says, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Look who’s back.” Back? The word echoes in my head like a slap. My brow furrows, but I say nothing. There’s no point. I try to step around them, but they move as one, cutting me off. The air feels stuffy, as if their presence alone is enough to suck the oxygen from the corridor. “Thought you were done,” another girl sneers, tilting her head like she’s trying to figure me out. “Why even come back at all?” I blink at them, my pulse stuttering. What the hell are they talking about? My throat tightens. I can feel my heart beating hard against my ribs, like it’s trying to break free. I part my lips to speak, to tell them they’re mistaken, but they don’t give me a chance. “And really?” The third one, a blonde with ice in her eyes, steps closer. Her perfume is sharp, floral, and cloying. “You’re seriously going after Atlas again? After everything? Have you no shame?” Again? My stomach twists, the weight of their words sinking in fast. The floor beneath me feels like it’s tilting. Are they mistaking me for someone else? I manage to force words out, my voice quieter than I intend but steady. “I—I think you’ve got the wrong person.” My gaze shifts between them, hoping, praying, they’ll realize their mistake. But their expressions don’t change. If anything, they look more convinced. Like my denial is just another lie. The first girl lets out a laugh, sharp and bitter. It rings down the hall, making my skin prickle. “Oh, that’s rich. You even went as far as changing your name?” My breath catches. The words hit harder than they should. What is going on? I shake my head, heart pounding in my ears. “I’m not who you think I am,” I say again, but doubt creeps into my voice. Because what if… what if there’s something I don’t know? They exchange glances, smirks playing on their lips, like they’re sharing a secret I’m too stupid to understand. “Stay away from Atlas,” the blonde says, voice low, dangerous. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.” And just like that, they’re gone, their laughter trailing behind them that clings to my skin. I stood frozen. The hallway feels colder, emptier now. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to move, back pressed against the wall until I slide down to sit on the cold floor. My hands tremble as I hug my knees to my chest, trying to slow the wild beating of my heart. What just happened? I came here thinking I could start over. Thinking that pretty privilege, being the girl people usually smiled at, the one adults called “well-mannered,” the one boys tried to impress, would shield me. But I was wrong. The stares. The whispers. The cold shoulders. The accusations. None of it’s because they’re jealous of the new girl. All this because they think I’m someone else. Someone who left. Someone who hurt him. Someone who… changed their name? I stare down at my hands, fingers clenching my skirt so tight my knuckles turn white. I thought coming here was the fresh start I needed. After everything, after losing my mom, after being betrayed by my mate, well, whom I thought was my mate, after being betrayed by my best friend, my soul sister, this was supposed to be my escape. But it feels more like a trap. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the echo of their voices. I’m not here for Atlas. I don’t care about mates anymore. That bond? That stupid magical bond everyone craves? I don’t want it. Not after what my so-called mate did to me. All I want is to keep my head down, finish school, figure out who I am without all the grief and betrayal. But now? Now it feels like that won’t be possible. Because no one here sees me. They see whoever they think I am. And the worst part? I don’t even know who that girl is supposed to be. A chill runs down my spine. I glance up and down the hallway, half-expecting someone else to appear, to throw more accusations my way. I pull myself to my feet, legs shaking but determined. I have to keep going. I have to figure this out. I can’t let them break me. As I walk, their words replay in my head, each one slicing deeper. And beneath it all, that cold, sharp warning: Stay away from Atlas. I let out a shaky breath. I didn’t come here for anyone. But it looks like that won’t matter. Because no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to stay out of the way… They’ve already decided I’m the enemy.Zara’s POV I hated school trips. Always had. They reminded me of long childhood bus rides with kids I couldn’t relate to, the smell of old leather seats and hot plastic, and teachers telling us to look at scenery while my mind reeled with other things. But this trip to Greystone Island felt worse. The boat rocked under my feet as we crossed the narrow river from mainland to the academy’s original home. Wind slapped my hair across my face. Seagulls circled overhead, their shrieks echoing through my skull. Students chartered around me, excitement buzzing in the salty breeze. Atlas stood near the prow with Liam, black hair whipping behind him like a fallen god. Jace leaned against the side rails further down, eyes half-lidded, wind tugging at his brown waves. He glanced at me only once, then away, like I was a star in a distant galaxy he didn’t care to observe. Alex stood beside him, laughing at something he said. My chest tightened. I turned away. “Did you hear about the dorm placem
Zara’s POV Saturday dawned cold and bright, frost silvering the grass beyond my dorm window. I woke up shivering under thin covers, my breath fogging in the dim dawn light. Wolf sports day. Great. The entire academy was buzzing about it all week, but all I cared about was calling Aunt May. My mind burned with questions — about Mira Blackwood, about the journal hidden under my pillow, about why my name kept popping up in places it didn’t belong. But calls weren’t allowed until after sports ended. I clenched my fists under the blanket. Why does everything here feel like a cage? I dragged myself up, showered and pulled on my thickest sweater, and met Talia at breakfast. She was humming under her breath as she sprinkled cinnamon onto her porridge. The dining hall was rowdy today, packed with students chattering about which wolf team would win the territory run. Above us, giant banners shimmered with house sigils. “You look dead,” Talia said cheerfully, biting into a buttered roll. “T
Zara’s POV THE NEXT DAY… The sun rose through the low rolling mist that morning, making the academy spires look like jagged islands floating in pale gold clouds. I watched it from my dorm window, arms wrapped around my knees, chin balanced between them. My thoughts felt heavy, sluggish, like soaked wool. I should have been studying for midterms — my notebooks lay scattered across my duvet, equations and incantation runes half-memorised. But all I could think about was the way Atlas had looked at me yesterday in Herbal Studies. As though he was reading secrets off my bones. As though he already knew something I didn’t. A sharp knock at my door snapped me out of my daze. I flinched, throat tight. “Yeah?” I croaked, voice hoarse. The door creaked open and Talia poked her head in. Her dark curls were half-tamed by a thin red ribbon today, her eyes lined with smudged black kohl. She looked… uneasy. “Did you hear?” she whispered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behin
Zara’s POV I woke up with a tightness in my chest. The memory of that letter clung to me no matter how much I tried to piece the possibility in. No doubt, it was Aunt May’s neat handwriting, the slight floral scent of her perfume embedded into the paper fibres… and yet, something was off. Something so deeply wrong it made my stomach twist every time I remembered. My boots thudded against the waxed hallway floors as I stormed down the east corridor towards the Letter Office. The morning air still carried the cool bite of dawn, but my palms were sweaty with impatience. The academy’s white walls were lined with black iron lanterns humming softly. I shoved past a few first-years huddled over a single textbook, ignoring their startled squeaks. When I reached the Letter Office, the smell of parchment and melted sealing wax hit me. The room was narrow, with pigeonhole cubbies stacked to the ceiling, each labelled with brass plates for dorm wings and family codes. Behind the tall wooden co
Zara’s POV The hallway outside the East Dorm was darker than usual. The sconces that usually flickered with enchantment light barely glowed. I rubbed my arms, nerves crackling under my skin. My shoes were too loud on the marble, echoing like warning bells. Midnight felt heavier tonight, like the walls themselves were listening. It started this morning. The Academy newsletter, The Howl & Fang, plastered across every screen in the cafeteria. Their “Midterm Romance Rankings” was supposed to be a joke. Until I saw the names. #1: Jace & Alex — Power Couple Goals #2: Atlas & Zara — Reigniting the Flame? I’d nearly choked on my water. Alex had looked ready to crawl under the table. Jace had remained calm, expression unreadable. Atlas? He smirked like it was hilarious. Like I hadn’t just been publicly paired with the most emotionally annoying confusing male in the entire school. I’d tried to avoid them all day. Even skipped training. Hid out in the East Wing garden until curfew. But no
Zara Midterms turned the academy into a prison. Every hallway buzzed with students, paper crumples, and the low drone of students reciting facts under their breath like prayers. Even the combat wing had quieted, no training, no duels — just the suffocating silence of too many brains trying not to fail. The main library was a disaster. Every table taken. Bodies slumped in uncomfortable chairs, backpacks filled with notes, enchantments pulsing weakly in the corners. I had tried, gods knew I had, to find a place to concentrate. But the whispering, the shuffling, the smell of stress, and sweat…. It rose to my skull. So I asked Mina Roja, our class captain, quietly over breakfast, where people didn’t study. She blinked at me. “Old East Wing.” I frowned. “Why not there?” She leaned closer like the shadows might hear. “It’s sealed. They say part of the roof caved in a few terms ago. Unsafe.” She lowered her voice further. “Also cursed.” Still, later that afternoon, I found myself pu