Elowyn looked at the large gate upfront and instinct made her hurry and sip off the concoction her sweet friend had made.

Elowyn shut her eyes and felt the change. She sighed softly and swallowed.

The carriage rattled to a stop.

Fog wrapped around the wheels like silk, and the gates of Ashmoore's Training Academy loomed ahead - tall, iron-wrought, carved with the ancient sigil of the first Alpha bloodline.

Elowyn stared up from behind the window curtain, breath shallow. The illusion was holding. The forged sigils burned faintly on the carriage's crest. The two stallions stood still in the morning chill.

The driver blinked and said nothing.

Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the edge of her coat - masculine cut, plain but noble enough. Her shoulders still ached from the bindings. Her voice was quiet, nearly forgotten, and her heart? It thundered.

"You are Prince Elyan Froste." She reminded herself. "Of the long-lost Eastern Draven Clan. And no one must know otherwise."

The gates creaked open.

The carriage raced down to the entrance pillar and halted.

A woman stood at the threshold, dressed in a long obsidian coat and big glasses. Stern face. Alpha presence.

She was flanked by two student guards. Younger wolves, sharp-eyed.

Elowyn got out and two of her ghostly companies went ahead to grab her things.

"Name?" the woman asked, voice clipped and scrutinized the young alpha and servants before her.

Elowyn swallowed, straightened, and stepped out onto the cobbled path like her knees weren't made of mud.

"Elyan Froste," she said carefully. "Draven lineage. Here for admittance."

A pause. The woman stared at her. No, through her, eyes narrowed. Then she checked the ledger in her hand, her brow arching as if surprised to see the name.

"From the east." she said slowly. "That's a long way off."

"The Dravens travel far and speak little," Elowyn replied, just as Mia had coached her.

The woman gave a faint nod.

"Dormitory 3B. You'll be sharing with an active Senior Alpha in training. Baron Ortega. Give him this."

Elowyn received a card and the entrance door flapped open.

She nodded stiffly and stepped forward.

"I'm just a student. Just a boy." She sang in her head. "I'm fitting in. No one's noticing."

The gates shut behind her with a clang that sounded too much like a trap.

The academy was colder inside than it looked. Grey stone. Towering walls. Students moved in groups, talking in murmurs. Big and tall. Aura for aura. Dominance.

A few stared at her - most just kept walking.

Surprisingly, there were colorful flowerbeds here and there and that was enough to give Elowyn a spark of hope that she wasn't in a grave.

But one pair of eyes lingered too long.

A boy in black, arms folded, leaning against a wall. He looked maybe 19, 20. Tousled hair. Pale skin. Piercing blue eyes that almost glowed beneath the cloudy sky.

Elowyn met his gaze for one second too long.

He looked away like he didn't care.

But something told her he noticed something.

The way a wolf notices a ripple in the wind.

★★★

★★★

Dormitory 3B was at the end of the east wing, tucked between a weapons hall and an indoor training pit.

When she stepped inside, the scent hit her like a wave.

Musk. Pine. Cold iron. Alpha.

Baron Ortega wasn't there yet. But his scent had claimed the room.

She took a bag from her illusionary servants and crossed to another door that had her name written at the top exhaled slowly, pushing the door open as she thought.

The ghosts followed and placed her things on the luxurious bunk bed.

"Please, let it not be."

Outside the room, footsteps drew near.

The door creaked.

And there he was - the Alpha with the green eyes, towel around his neck, hair damp, jaw tight. Baron Ortega.

Large. Wildly handsome. Silent.

He froze in the doorway.

Looked her up and down once.

Tilted his head slightly.

He sniffed the air.

"You smell... different."

Elowyn's mouth went dry. Her fingers tightened on the blanket.

"New soap," she said flatly.

Baron didn't blink.

"Hmm," he said. "Don't get comfortable so I don't break your face."

Elowyn swallowed uneasily and quickly blinked.

"I'm sorry. I will have to run with my.... servants before they get exhausted."

Baron's brow creased and he watched her questioningly.

"Exhausted?" He repeated.

"I'm sorry." She said again, stepping back. "We must hurry."

Baron watched the scrawny roommate turn around and run. The strangely pale and orderly servants stepped along with eerie grace.

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

★★★

★★★

Elowyn gave a stiff, awkward wave at the illusions dear Mia had created - their noble uniforms, their unreal posture - to make her arrive in this strange place in a grand style.

All a lie.

She bit her lip and fought the sadness that welled up in her chest. She shut her eyes and muttered a prayer for her friend.

Then, she jumped back into reality once the entrance gate slammed loudly behind the illusionary servants.

"You're in a new world now."

She instinctively began to raise a hand to rub her other arm but she was quick to come back to her senses.

"You're no longer in The Somberwoke Village. You're not a girl anymore." Her mind reminded fiercely and she stood straight.

She had to make way because large males - alphas-in-the-making were marching in with their servants and luggages in groups.

Tall and mighty.

Eyes cold and expressionless.

Aura. Cold.

They were wolves in human form.

The crowd was growing.

"You have to leave this place and go stay in your room. You can't afford to be noticed." Her mind spoke again.

But she was too hard to not notice because too many alphas were already watching her.

Someone nudged another and said something in a low voice.

Her heart rose in fear.

"They see something, Elowyn!"

But....

She shook her head and straightened her shoulders and turned to walk back to where she'd come from.

"I'm inside the academy. I won't be married off. I'll be careful and try my best." Her head murmured.

She hurried off.

★★★

★★★

Elowyn was careful when she opened the door to Dormitory 3B - slow, quiet and watchful. Like this was a survival drill.

The room was dim. Empty. Silent.

Baron was nowhere around and she held her breath, stepping in fully.

One glance around and still no movement. Good.

She then proceeded to steal her way to her door.

And before two counts, she was in and padding towards her bag on the bed. A sigh pushed out of her nostrils.

"Oh Moon...."

She brought out the binding flask Mia had given her. Elowyn sipped the herb fast and her body hummed. The masking herb was settling into her.

In 5 seconds, it was over.

Elowyn began to hide it back in it's place beneath a folded shirt....

The door whipped open.

She gasped and turned sharply, breath caught in her throat.

And what she saw got her gasping again and shifting back.

Baron....

He stood in the doorway.

Naked.

Hair tousled and soaked immensely.

Elowyn was struck and her gaze flickered lower than it should have. She saw him.

Completely bare before her like nudity was a nature-given right.

Her stomach tightened instantly.

"Stand straight! Chin up!" Her head barked and she instantly obliged, her heart was beating. She was pooling hard.

She didn't say a word.

Elowyn could only stare at whatever it was that was behind this completely naked creature. She was as stiff as stone.

Her fists clenched.

Baron didn't look disturbed at all.

"Greatest way to introduce yourself, Scrawn Wolf." He said, walking towards her.

She stood still and remained unshaken.

"What's with this goddamn smell?" Baron asked dangerously.

Silence.

"Speak."

Elowyn remained silent and refused to meet his eyes.

But she was moved when he growled.

"I'm warning you. Speak."

"I...." Her words cut and she tried again. "Long journey."

"You smell very repulsive. You're scrawny. Is there something everyone needs to know?"

Someone interrupted.

Someone knocked - then walked right in without waiting.

Another male. As tall as Baron. Broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and a smirk that was already cruel before it landed on Elowyn.

"Did I miss the freak show?" the new male said, his voice lazy, arrogant. "Or is this it?"

Baron didn't turn around. He just stepped aside and motioned toward Elowyn like she was a faulty weapon on display.

"The great Scrawn Wolf." Baron said, enjoying himself. "From the far-off sticks. Smells weird. Talks weird. Looks like a stick."

Azpen snorted. "What's on his ID?"

Elowyn's hands balled tighter at her sides.

"That reminds me. Where the hell is your ID?"

Elowyn paused and she quickly put a hand in her coat and brought it out.

"Azpen, get me a trouser."

Azpen obeyed.

Baron was silent when he read and Elowyn was trying to breathe.

Without much time, Azpen was back. Baron took the trouser and whipped his head this way and that with two loud cracks.

"Moon above, I hope this one doesn't snore. I don't do well with whimpers." Azpen muttered.

Baron sat on his bed lazily, pushing into the clothing he'd just grabbed from his roommate. "We might have to toughen him up."

Azpen gave Elowyn a look. "You scared, Twig?"

She shook her head slowly, saying nothing.

Baron's lips curled wickedly. "Mute. Cute. Don't worry, someone's got a way of carving words out of quiet ones."

Elowyn stood there, heart hammering, rage and fear twining in her chest like thorns.

She wouldn't speak again.

Not now.

Let them laugh. Let them prod.

She'd survive this. She had to.

Azpen shrugged and opened his wardrobe, already moving like he owned the space. "Schedule gets dropped off by noon. We're in the Combat Wing this semester, so be ready to bleed on the floor."

"Also," Baron said, shooting her a glare, "get your scent sorted. I'm not living with something that smells like rotten sage."

Elowyn blinked - slow, emotionless.

"I'll be clean by two hours."

Baron smirked again, unconvinced. "You'd better."

There was a knock again.

Baron stood up and opened the door.

This time it was a silver-coat valet, stiff and precise.

"Cadet Elyan Froste." he announced. "Your academy kits. Uniforms, schedules, rule logs, and ID crests. First-year scent scan begins tomorrow at sunrise."

He dropped a parcel at the table Elowyn had not been chanced to notice beside the door.

Elowyn quietly went and took it with both hands. It was heavier than expected. Like it held all the pressure of her fake life inside.

"Do not miss scent scan." The valet added, eyes settling briefly on Baron and Azpen. "Latecomers are flagged for invasive testing."

Then he left.

Baron walked into Elowyn's small washroom.

Azpen plopped onto Elowyn's bed.

Elowyn stared down at her parcel, throat dry.

Scent scan. Sunrise. Invasive testing.

Her fingers trembled slightly.

"Wait in the sitting room." Azpen said, authoritatively.

So, she turned away, set the parcel down where she had picked it, and left her room.

Ariya Froste knelt in the cold dirt, her hands tied behind her back, her lips trembling.

Her husband, Sergius was standing and staring daggers at her.

"I swear, I don't know where she is." she whispered for the fifth time.

Seragio stood above her - tall, sharp-jawed, eyes wild with fury. A coat of furs hung on his shoulders like the hide of something he'd conquered. His voice was low, but it bled violence.

"You think I'm a fool?"

"No no, please...." Ariya choked, her knees scraping the rocky ground as she shifted. "I swear by the Moon. I don't know where she ran to. I haven't seen her since dusk!"

"She's your daughter." Seragio snarled. "You'd feel her if she bled. You'd sense her if she fell.."

Ariya's breath caught.

He stepped forward, boots crunching on autumned leaves.

"The Witch." he spat. "The little swamp-girl."

He gripped Ariya's chin, digging his fingers in, forcing her face up. Her eyes shimmered with tears - not of pain, but of regret.

"Do what you must." She whispered. "But leave Mia out of this."

Seragio's smile was slow. Cold.

"Oh, I intend to do exactly what I must."

He pushed her back to sit.

"Lock her up," he commanded the wolves flanking him. "If she makes one sound about blood or bond, muzzle her."

Two males stepped forward and dragged Ariya away.

She tried to beg.

Sergius turned, inhaled deeply and let out a low growl that sent a flock of birds screaming and flying off from the trees.

"Find her." He said to the dark. "Find the girl. Bring her to me."

★★★

★★★

The summoning ring was scorched.

The stone altar had cracked from the heat of the spell.

And Mia was unconscious.

Her body lay curled at the edge of the summoning ring, cloak soaked with sweat, fingers twitching like they were still weaving spells in her dreams.

A faint glow pulsed from beneath her - the herbs she'd used reacting to the strain of magic that bent time and memory and forged a fake prince out of nothing.

Tiny spirits fluttered around her body in forms of candlelight moths, whispering with concern.

"She bent too far."

"She risked too much."

"She will fade."

"No." one whispered. "She only needs time."

And outside the cave, the wind shifted eastward, toward Ashmoore's gates.

Toward Elowyn.

★★★

★★★

Elowyn sat alone on the small settee in her room, her body tense, her hands clasped over the sealed academy parcel resting on her lap.

The package was thick. Tied with a silver cord. The Academy's insignia - a wolf's head wreathed in thorned laurel - glared up at her like it was warning her not to open it.

But she had to.

She undid the knot carefully and slowly. Every thread she pulled felt like she was unraveling herself too.

The first thing inside was the uniform.

Three folded tunics. All deep charcoal grey, with heavy collars and a silver-stitched crest on the chest. Alpha crest. No room for mistakes.

The trousers were stiff, thick with reinforced seams. Combat-grade. Made for someone far more muscular than she was. Her breath hitched.

She ran her fingers over the insignia, her fake clan name embroidered beneath it in sharp, clean thread.

Elyan Froste. Draven Lineage.

The name didn't feel like hers. Not really. But it had to be now.

She moved aside the clothes and picked up a tightly rolled scroll - her combat schedule.

It read:

ASHMOORE'S TRAINING ACADEMY - CADET TIMETABLE: SEMESTER 1

Dawn Routines – 5:00 AM: Morning Run / Blood Threshold Circuit

Combat Studies – 6:30 AM: Wolf Maneuvers (Pack vs Rogue Tactics)

Theories of Pack Politics – 8:00 AM

Survival & Stealth – 10:00 AM (Northern Forest Grounds)

Meal Hour – 12:00 PM

Scent & Resistance Testing – 1:00 PM

Evening Assessment Bouts – 3:00 PM

Meal Hour – 6:00 PM

Dormitory Curfew – 7:00 PM

Elowyn blinked.

Scent & Resistance Testing.

It was real. Not just a threat.

Oh dear....

She clenched the scroll tight until her knuckles whitened. She'd need another full flask by the time that session arrived. And Mia was unconscious at gods-know-where.

Beneath the scroll was a small black pouch. Elowyn opened it. Inside it were three silver ID crests.

One to pin to her uniform.

One to hand over for inspections.

One for identification during cadet trials.

Each one gleamed cold and official. Each one bore the same sigil and false name. She turned one in her palm slowly.

So much weight for something so small.

A final object lay inside the parcel - a thin, navy blue rule log, bound in hard leather. She flipped to the first page:

CODE OF CONDUCT FOR ALPHA TRAINEES - YEAR ONE

1. No cadet may alter or conceal their scent deliberately.

2. If any sign of a bond is felt, both parties must undergo public evaluation.

3. Dormitory infractions must be reported within 24 hours.

4. Failure to attend classes or trainings will result in class demotion and marking.

5. Fighting outside sanctioned matches is punishable by blood-for-blood trial.

6. No Luna-class allowed.

7. Disagreements may be settled through sanctioned physical combat.

8. No deliveries, illusions or contact with non-students.

9. Any false identity discovered will lead to exile.

Elowyn's eyes stung.

She closed the booklet quickly and pressed it against her chest, heart pounding.

This is it. The real fight begins here.

No more woods. No more sobbing mothers. No more caves with spell circles and candlelight moths.

She was in Ashmoore now. Surrounded by wolves.

Baron. Azpen. And a dozen more she hadn't even met.

She'd have to fight like a male. Move like a warrior. Think like someone who belonged.

And no matter how much it hurt and scared her, no one must know she was a girl.

Elowyn's lips shook and she ran a hand through her face.

She had to fight.