LIORA'S POV

  I stirred my drink, glancing towards the Crimson Athenaeum in the distance. The building was huge, with red bricks that seemed darker than the rest of campus. Its tall windows reflected the fading sunlight, but the shadows inside moved in ways that didn't feel right.

  Even from here, a shiver ran down my spine, like the place was hiding secrets it didn't want anyone to find.

  "Mara... why do you think they made such a rule? Is there something wrong with that place?"

  "I don't really know... I just heard no one's allowed inside. Maybe it's because the building's old. They're probably afraid it could collapse or something."she shrugged

  I hesitated. "There's something I didn't tell you."

  Mara frowned and leaned forward."What?"

  "I saw something. Yesterday night."

  She straightened, eyes narrowing. "Saw what, Liora-"

  But before l could say anything , a deafening crash tore through the hallway.

  The door flew open and a group of seniors stormed in, laughing loudly, tossing bags onto tables. They were dressed in the school's football uniforms, still sweaty from practice. "Hey! Did you see that touchdown? I was on fire!" one of them shouted, making the whole cafeteria turn.

  The noise settled around them like a storm that refused to calm. The one I guessed was the quarterback-tall, loud, far too confident-stood on a bench, replaying the moment with wild gestures as laughter followed his every word.

  Then the air shifted.

  A tall figure stepped into the cafeteria doorway, blocking the light behind him. Conversations slowed. Forks paused halfway to mouths. He didn't wear a uniform, just dark clothes that fit him like they were made for him alone. Broad shoulders. Sharp jaw. Grey eyes, sharp and watchful, burning with anger he kept firmly in check.The kind of good-looking that didn't try-didn't need to.

  Mara whispered beside me.

  "Oh my..." she muttered. "Okay... that is one seriously attractive guy."

  He walked straight to the bench. His gaze locked on the quarterback, steady and cold.

  "Get down," he said quietly. "And follow me."

  The quarterback laughed, hopping off the bench. "Relax, Captain. We're just celebrating. You should try it sometime." He clapped him on the shoulder like they were equals. "The crowd loves me, yeah?"

  The captain's expression didn't change.

  In one smooth motion, he grabbed the quarterback by the collar and yanked him closer, their faces inches apart. His voice dropped low, but I still heard it-clear, sharp, dangerous.

  "I'm not going to repeat myself," he said. "Next time, I won't be this polite."

  The quarterback swallowed.

  From where I sat, my heart pounded hard against my ribs. I should've looked away. I didn't.

  Because for a split second, the captain's eyes lifted-and met mine.

  My breath caught. Not because he smiled. He didn't.

  His expression stayed hard, jaw tight, shoulders squared like nothing in the world could shake him.

  But then-

  Just for a fraction of a second, l saw something ,was that-

  Fear?

  Not loud. Not obvious. Just a flicker in his dark eyes - sharp and startled.

  And then it was gone.

  His face reset, controlled and unreadable.

  he turned away.

  The quarterback-no, the waterboy now, stripped of his noise-followed behind him without a word. The doors swung shut, and just like that, the tension left with them.

  I exhaled without realizing I'd been holding my breath.

  Mara let out a low whistle. "Wow," she said. "That was... intense."

  She shook her head, eyes wide. "Remind me never to get on his bad side."

  I nodded, though my attention wasn't really on her.

  My heart was still racing, my chest tight in a way that made no sense. Our eyes had met-just once-but it felt like a strange unease tightened in my chest, sharp and unexpected.

  I didn't understand it. And I didn't want to.

  Boys like that came with trouble. Chaos. Shadows. The kind of attention I had no interest in inviting into my life. Whatever that feeling was, I told myself it would pass.

  It had to.

  "Come on," Mara said, grabbing her tray. "We'll be late for morning classes."

  I stood, forcing my thoughts back into order as we headed for the doors.

  And for some reason, an uneasy certainty settled in me that this was only the start.

Adrian had been trained to feel nothing.

  Every word from his father, Alpha Luca, had hammered the same lesson into him: pain was weakness, love was destruction, attachment was failure.

  From the moment he could walk, every mistake, every lapse in control, was met with harsh correction-brutal training meant to forge him into a leader capable of surviving-and dominating-anything.

  "You must endure everything, Adrian," his father had said one morning in the office, pacing in the cold light streaming through the windows. "The pack survives because its Alpha feels no pain. You will feel nothing. You will let nothing distract you. You will lead, or the pack dies."

  Adrian had obeyed. He had learned to endure, to dominate, to shut down any trace of weakness. By seventeen, his mind and body obeyed him like soldiers in line. Feelings were irrelevant. Attachments were fatal. Distractions were punishable.

  It was around that time his father summoned him while Adrian managed the pack's daily affairs. The Alpha's gaze was sharp, his words sharper.

  "You've handled the Night Fang well," his father said, voice low and cutting. "But you are not finished. You are not ready to be Alpha alone. You will go... among the humans."

  Adrian froze. "Humans?" His disbelief was thick in his voice. "Are you sending me away? Away from my people after everything I've done?"

  Alpha Luca eyes did not waver. "Yes. You will enroll at Ravencrest University. There, you will learn to move among them. To manage their fragile lives, their weaknesses, their businesses. You will understand them so that you may control them. You will not be distracted, and you will not fail. This is the only way you will survive."

  Adrian had hated the idea. Humans were weak. Fragile bodies, fragile minds, fragile morals. They were creatures to be observed, tolerated at best, dominated at worst. The thought of spending years immersed in their frailty made his skin crawl.

  But he obeyed, as he always did.

  When the day finally came, he arrived at Ravencrest not alone, but with Kel, his closest friend and beta; Darius, his cousin-reckless and irritating, a constant test of patience; and a few other pack members.

  The junior courses were grueling, but his focus never wavered. Two years of study, strategy, observation passed in silence. He ignored the chatter of students, their petty social games, their meaningless crushes. Relationships were useless. Women were distractions, tools to satisfy hunger and nothing more.

  Now, in his senior year, Adrian's reputation at Ravencrest was unassailable. Calm. Controlled. Cold. Every decision, every movement, every glance served a purpose.

  That morning, he prowled among the trees in the school courtyard-a dense forest surrounding the university, off-limits to humans, where wolves held their freedom. Here he could run, release tension, and let Ragnar his wolf stretch his senses.

  A flicker of gold caught his attention. A human girl. Her presence should have meant nothing. Yet Ragnar stiffened beneath him, sensing what Adrian could not name.

  There is something... the wolf murmured. Different. Not like the others.

  Adrian shook it off. "She's human," he said aloud, dismissing it. "Weak. Irrelevant. Don't waste attention."

  But Ragnar nudged again, insistent, frustrated.

  Adrian exhaled, shut his wolf down, and turned toward the field for practice.

  Hours later, in the cafeteria, he confronted Darius-who had used his wolf-enhanced speed during a football drill, forbidden and dangerous if humans noticed.

  Adrian's grey eyes, sharp and burning with controlled anger, found his cousin immediately.

  "I'm not going to repeat myself," he said, voice low, dangerous. "Next time, I won't be this polite."

  Darius muttered under his breath, but Adrian didn't respond. His gaze flicked past him, scanning the room-then locked on her. Blue-green eyes, quiet, almost hidden under her hoodie, yet sharp enough to pull at something deep inside him.

  He frowned slightly and tore his gaze away, though the memory of those eyes lingered at the edge of his mind. He straightened, shoulders back, and walked toward the cafeteria doors, each step deliberate, radiating authority.

  Ragnar stirred beneath his skin

  But Adrian ignored it. Though deep beneath the surface, something had awakened. Something ancient. Something insistent. Ragnar growled softly, sensing it too.

Adrian didn't wait.

  He cut down the corridor outside the field with long, purposeful strides. The echo of boots and careless laughter bounced off the walls, fading with every step.

  Darius followed in silence, his pace measured, his expression unreadable.

  His wolf wasn't.

  It prowled beneath his skin, alert and restless, reacting to the rigid set of Adrian's shoulders. This wasn't just about the drill. Darius had known that the moment Adrian's gaze had locked onto him from across the field-cold, assessing, already condemning.

  They reached the boys' locker room.

  It was nearly empty now. A few open lockers yawned like broken teeth, the air thick with the sharp scent of sweat, metal, and detergent. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, buzzing faintly.

  Adrian stepped inside and shut the door.

  The click echoed louder than it should have.

  "You used your wolf,"

  Adrian said, wasting no time.

  Darius dropped his bag onto the nearest bench and exhaled slowly. "I used my speed."

  Adrian turned on him.

  "You used more than you were allowed," he snapped. "On a human field. In front of humans."

  "I won the drill," Darius replied.

  "That's not the point."

  Darius's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then what is?"

  Adrian closed the distance between them, Alpha pressure rolling off him in controlled waves. The lockers rattled softly, metal shivering in response.

  "That rule exists because exposure kills," Adrian said. "One mistake. One human who notices too much. That's all it takes."

  "And stagnation kills too," Darius said evenly. He didn't step back. "You trained us to survive among them-not to shrink. I chose a moment where excellence wouldn't look unnatural."

  "You assumed-"

  "I observed," Darius cut in, voice firm. "No cameras. No outsiders. Just boys desperate to believe in talent. Humans explain what they see in ways that make them comfortable."

  Silence stretched between them.

  Adrian exhaled sharply and turned away, dragging a hand through his hair.

  "Funny thing though," he said, softer now.

  "You talk about control," Darius went on, his tone casual, almost bored, "but in the cafeteria-"

  He paused deliberately.

  "You forgot it."

  Adrian turned slowly. "What do you mean, I forgot it?"

  Darius tilted his head slightly. "That girl."

  Adrian's jaw tightened at once.

  "The one in the oversized hoodie," Darius continued, unhurried. "Golden hair. Human."

  "That has nothing to do with this," Adrian said.

  "Doesn't it?" Darius asked. "Because I've never seen you lose awareness. Not once."

  His wolf stirred uneasily, sensing the shift.

  "You warn me about being noticed," Darius went on quietly. "About risk. But the way you stared at that girl-"

  He paused.

  "You weren't just curious. You were hesitant. Almost afraid. And it made me wonder... since when does our fearless Alpha feel curiosity-let alone fear-toward a human?"

  The words landed cleanly.

  The locker room felt smaller.

  Adrian's voice dropped, low and dangerous. "You're crossing a line, Darius."

  "I'm pointing at one," Darius replied calmly. "If we're measuring danger, we should be honest about where it comes from."

  A beat passed.

  "You think my choice was reckless," Darius said. "I think it was controlled. Intentional. Yours wasn't."

  Silence crashed down between them.

  For the first time, Adrian didn't immediately respond.

  Because deep down he knew that Darius was right about one thing.

  That girl had pulled his focus in a way no one ever had.

  And that was a risk Adrian hadn't calculated. Hadn't prepared for.

  "Next time," Adrian said at last, voice ice-cold, "you speak about my attention, you'll regret it."

  Darius inclined his head-not apologetic.

  Knowing.

  Adrian yanked the door open and walked out.

  Behind him, Darius stayed where he was, a faint smirk lifting the corner of his lips.

  Because for the first time, Adrian wasn't guarding the pack from humans-

  He was guarding himself from one.