4. Dragged into Wolves' Den

I took a step back, spun around, and ran toward the left wing, dragging my suitcase behind me. The only sound I heard was the chorus of mocking laughter echoing down the corridor. My heart pounded wildly, and my mind went blank.

Could I still get out of here? I could, right?

I stopped at the first door with a nameplate: Head of the Girls’ Dormitory.

I glanced back down the corridor where I’d encountered the twins. Fear prickled my skin. What if they followed me here?

They’d never dared to touch me at home, but their stares were always full of hatred whenever our eyes met.

Here, at Bastorin, it felt like I was stepping into a wolf’s den.

My hand trembled as I grabbed the doorknob. The harsh click made me freeze.

"Couldn't you knock first?"

I swallowed hard. "Sorry, I—" I knocked anyway, though it felt useless.

"Come in!" The woman’s raspy voice dripped with hunger for power and validation.

Inside, a middle-aged woman with neatly pinned white hair sat. Her glasses had slid to the edge of her nose.

"Come here. Sit.” She jabbed her finger toward the chair in front of her.

I obeyed, sitting stiffly. "I..."

"I know who you are," she snapped. "Anastasia Lancroft. Daughter of Alistair Lancroft. Your file is already on my desk."

She spoke as if she already owned me, as if she knew enough to keep me under her thumb.

"This is an elite, exclusive school, no matter what reputation you've heard outside. Only select students are accepted. You should be grateful you were accepted!"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded quickly.

"There are forty girls in this dorm, including you. I don’t want that number to go up or down at night.”

I frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I didn’t dare ask. With her temper, Mrs. Edna reminded me of Evelina, only older and blunter.

"There are twenty rooms. Yours is the last one. The rules and everything else are in your room. Now, off you go.” She waved me off as if I were an inconvenience.

I scrambled to my feet, nodded politely, and left. The wheels of my suitcase rattled annoyingly against the floor.

What kind of academy was this? It didn't feel like a school; it felt like a barracks for criminals.

No one had ever treated me so coldly. Not since Evelina married my father. My mother raised me with nothing but kindness.

In fact, she was so gentle that her heart broke and never healed. She chose to welcome death, taking her pain with her to the grave.

Before I realized it, tears were sliding down my face. If Mother had known that this was my fate, would she have taken me with her so that we could sleep in peace together?

I paused at the last door on the left, marked 20, while 10 was across from it.

I guessed this was my room, the last one at the end of the hall.

I opened the door to the dorm room, hoping no one would see me crying. But I was wrong.

A blonde girl with a braid hanging down her back sat at the desk, wiping small objects scattered across a white cloth.

I quickly wiped my tears away and shut the door.

I wasn’t looking for friends or allies here. I just walked to the empty bed on the right—the bed on the left was clearly hers.

Even though the room was spacious, it felt suffocating.

“New, huh? You didn’t come from the starter academy, did you?” Her alto voice startled me.

I glanced at her back. She didn’t turn around, still fussing with whatever she was doing.

"No," I replied hoarsely.

"Bastorin's split into the starter academy and the advanced academy. This is the advanced one.”

"Oh, okay."

There was a sharp clack and click, followed by the sound of something spinning and another click. I was curious—what was she doing?

She turned and aimed a gun straight at me.

"My God!" I jumped to my feet, terrified.

A gun? She had a gun?

"Relax, it's not loaded," she said casually.

As if that made it any better. My whole body was still shaking.

She set the gun on the desk, crossed her arms, and looked me over from head to toe.

“What’s your name?”

“Anastasia.” I cleared my throat. “And you?”

"Isolde. I’m not here to make friends.”

"Me neither."

"Good, then."

Who wants to be friends with someone who points a gun at you? Even in my worst moments, I’d never think that was normal.

The softness I got from my mother felt like a curse here. If Father had raised me, maybe I’d be as heartless as he is.

My eyes drifted to a small book sitting on top of the folded uniform on my bed. I picked it up. It was full of rules and regulations for Bastorin.

"Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. Where can I find a class schedule? Or which subjects I can choose?” I asked.

Isolde chuckled. “You don’t. Everything taught here, you take it. No choice.”

I stared, flipping through the pages. Classes ran from nine to five.

What kind of subjects were these, anyway?

"Anything else you want to ask?" she asked coldly.

"Oh, Mrs. Edna said there are forty girls here, and she doesn't want—"

"—the number to go up or down. Especially at night,” Isolde cut in.

"Yeah. Yeah, that. I don’t get it.”

Isolde laughed again, mocking my ignorance.

"It means you can't spend the night in the boys' dorm. And vice versa,” she said. "Rules suck. But hey—you can still make out in the morning or afternoon. Work around it.”

My face flushed instantly. I wasn’t a prude, but hearing her say it so bluntly made me uncomfortable.

"Okay, thanks," I muttered quickly.

I’d barely opened my suitcase when the dorm door slammed open.

Several figures barged in. Isolde shot up, snarling.

"What the fuck! Get out!" she yelled.

They shoved her back into her chair. I stared at the group of tall, broad-shouldered men. What did they want?

"Oh, so this is the one who almost finished your mom off, Nathan?" one of them sneered.

Nathaniel stepped forward, his smirk as sharp as a blade.

"I don't care about that anymore." He flicked his hand dismissively. "I just want to give Anna a warm welcome so she'll always remember her first day at Bastorin."