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.

Elowyn didn't sleep.

She lay there and didn't notice her candle burn out finally.

She lay stiff on her king-sized bed, eyes wide open in the dark, listening to the night - breathing slow, steady, like a beast content after a hunt.

Baron.

His face flashed before her eyes and she shut it tightly for a short moment.

His green eyes. His smirk. Everything.

And suddenly his scent filled the room harder, curling in the air, and hers... stayed suppressed. For now.

Instinctively, she raised her face and sniffed long. And then, her chest pushed up and her head pressed back onto the bed.

Elowyn bit her lip and clawed at her duvet.

She was pooling.

"Oh no...." She rasped helplessly. Her legs twitched.

"Hold yourself, Elowyn. He could be around."

She tried. She really tried.

Elowyn tossed to look towards the door.

And her door came open with no warning.

She stilled instantly and her eyes shut.

But she knew who it was.

Baron.

He didn't say a word. Just walked in like he owned the room - because he did. The floor creaked beneath his weight, and Elowyn's heart beat against her ribcage like it was trying to escape.

She kept her eyes shut, praying he'd just grab something and leave.

But no. Baron wouldn't.

The bed dipped.

He had come to sit on her bed. Her scent is faint but rising. Suspicion.

Her body screamed 'don't react' but the scent she'd tried so hard to hide seemed to be shifting. Blooming.

Elowyn's eyes flicked open the smallest inch, just in time to see him reach down toward something on her floor - a fallen towel, maybe.

Then he paused.

He sniffed it.

"You awake?" he asked, voice low and smooth. Too smooth.

She didn't respond. Couldn't. Her throat was tight.

"Smells.... off in here."

A pause.

"You sweating, Froste?"

He was messing with her. Or maybe.... maybe testing.

She couldn't - couldn't afford to lose.

Baron leaned in. A cruel curiosity.

And he was sniffing again. Once. Twice. He stopped.

Her thighs clenched involuntarily, a raw ache blooming there she didn't ask for.

"Maybe it's fear of me?" He murmured, lips so close to her ear now that she felt the heat of his breath. "Yes, you should be scared."

Her body tightened beneath the sheets.

"You're really twitchy for someone trying to sleep after a long journey."

"Please don't find me out." Elowyn's head prayed.

Then - just as suddenly - he stood up.

Then, the door clicked shut behind him.

Elowyn exhaled like she'd surfaced from drowning. Her entire body was damp with heat, and her thighs were trembling.

She stared at the ceiling and pressed the her hands over her face.

This was only day one.

She hurriedly ran towards her vanity and reached under it to retrieve her binding flask.

She sipped twice.

★★★

★★★

It was 5:00am already.

Morning came with no warning - just a loud ring that shortly ended from Baron's bedside table and a simultaneous knock at the dorm door.

BANG. BANG.

"Dorm 3B. Gathering Field. Now."

Baron groaned and muttered something about biting whoever dared wake him.

Elowyn was already up, dressing silently, adjusting her chest wrap, checking her forged ID, dressing up.. Every second she stayed undiscovered felt like stolen time.

And finally she was gulping from her binding flask and shoving it gently into her bag.

★★★

★★★

The field was massive - tall cold stone wall, a faint hum of dominance in the air. Students lined up in rows, most in their final growth years, thick with power.

Elowyn stood straight, shoulders squared. Her voice still disguised. Her scent still masked.

Then the farther gate in front opened. Silence fell.

A tall man stepped in, silver-streaked hair pulled back, long black robes brushing the floor. He looked like a king and moved like a predator. His name echoed like a warning in whispered voices.

Senior Caelan Volke. The Chosen Alpha Head.

"He can smell lies, you know." Someone whispered behind her and when she looked back, she instantly recognized him.

"No one cheats the system when he's around."

Bree looked away apprehensively. He was the male she'd seen when she'd first come in with the illusions yesterday.

"Is he talking to me?" She cried in her head.

Fear rose.

"Am I giving something away?"

Caelan paced slowly through the rows of students, sharp blue eyes flicking across faces like he was reading their soul.

Then... he paused.

Right in front of her.

"Name," he said without even looking at his list.

Elowyn's mouth went dry. "Elyan Froste," she replied evenly.

His gaze met hers.

Too sharp. Too slow. Like he was cataloguing every twitch in her face.

"Clan?"

"Eastern Draven," she answered.

Caelan's head tilted. He stepped slightly closer - uncomfortably so. She felt the heat of his aura slam into hers like a wave.

"Interesting. My father once taught your father." he murmured.

Her stomach dropped. She fought to keep her expression still. "He spoke of such." she lied.

Caelan didn't blink.

Then, he inhaled.

A long, deep sniff. Like a beast confirming prey.

The room tensed. Baron, watching from across the hall, actually straightened.

"Your scent...." Caelan said slowly, " ....is rare."

Elowyn's heart thudded.

"I often get such comments but I reckon it's the herbs and so long a journey." She said, trying to sound casual and regal at the same time. "Our clan uses herbs for purification."

Caelan's gaze lingered.

Then, slowly, he smiled. Not kind. Not believing.

"Be careful with rituals, Prince Froste. They can purify many things... but never for long."

He moved on.

But Elowyn's hands wouldn't stop shaking.