The letter had since crumpled in her clenched hand as her horse thundered through the forest, the cold night air biting against her skin. 

Behind her, Mooncrest slept, unaware of her departure but ahead of her waited the only chance she had left to claim the throne that should have been hers.

The council had laughed at her, mocked her and told her that the world did not allow women to rule.

Fine.

Then she would simply stop being one.

She rode harder and deeper in, branches wiping in her face.

Pretending to be Soren Vale and forging his identity into the Academy’s records.

Risking exposure among the most powerful young Alphas in the Dominion.

It was madness.

She knew that.

But the council had already decided her future for her.

A future for marriage and a Luna’s throne beside some man they chose.

If she truly wanted power, she would have to steal it.

The trees began thinning as the trail lead toward Blood Hollow territory.

The large iron gates loomed ahead of her.

Two guards stepped forward as she approached.

Then recognition flashed across their faces.

“My lady.”

The gates opened immediately.

Serena swung down from her horse before it had fully stopped moving and tossed the reins toward a stable hand. 

She was already moving toward the manor before the horse had even been led away.

She walked straight to the pack house and leaning against one of the pillars stood the one person she trusted more than anyone else in the world.

Cedric Vale.

Her uncle pushed himself upright with a laugh as he saw her approaching.

“Well now,” he drawled, spreading his arms wide, “if it isn’t Mooncrest’s most troublesome she-wolf.”

Serena didn’t slow down a little as she crossed the steps in two strides and threw herself into his arms.

“Uncle.”

For a moment she simply breathed, burying her face in his shoulder. 

She finally let herself loosen up that tension that she's been harboring 

Cedric chuckled, patting her back.

“You only ride to Blood Hollow at midnight when something has gone terribly wrong,” he said. “So tell me…what disaster are you dragging behind you this time?”

Serena stepped back and pulled the letter from her jacket.

“I need to see Soren.”

Cedric raised an eyebrow.

“Ah.”

The understanding dawned across his face instantly, followed by a slow grin.

“That explains the rush...”

He jerked a thumb toward the house.

“Your cousin is upstairs. Either sleeping or pretending to be.”

Serena didn’t wait for another word.

She bolted inside the manor, her boots pounding against the wooden floors as she sprinted toward the staircase. 

Then she kicked open the door to Soren’s room.

Her cousin lay sprawled across his bed, lazily tossing a rubber ball into the air and catching it again.

He didn’t even look up.

“State your business, intruder,” he said dryly.

Serena threw the letter at his chest.

The ball bounced away as Soren caught the parchment.

He unfolded it casually.

Then his eyebrows shot upward and then even higher.

Then his entire expression transformed.

“You,” he said slowly, sitting upright. “You actually did it.”

His eyes flicked across the letter again.

“You got into the Alpha Dominion Academy.”

Serena crossed her arms, her breath still heavy you from the ride.

“I told you I would.”

Soren stood up so quickly the bed creaked behind him.

“Do you realize what this means?” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “You’ll be training with the strongest future Alphas in the Dominion. Warriors. Leaders. Heirs to the most powerful packs alive.”

“The same ones who think I don’t belong there,” Serena cut in sharply.

Soren’s excitement faded.

She met his gaze steadily.

“They won’t see Serena Vale,” she said.

“They’ll see you.”

Soren blinked.

Then he groaned.

“Oh no.”

Serena’s smile turned sharp.

“Oh yes.”

Soren ran a hand through his hair as his gaze swept over her.

Her shoulders, her breasts, her hips and the unmistakable scent that marked her as female.

“And how exactly,” he asked slowly, “do you plan to hide all… that?”

Serena hesitated.

Because that was the one question she had not solved.

Before she could answer, Soren suddenly grabbed his coat.

“There might be someone who can help.”

Serena frowned.

“Who?”

Soren’s expression turned grim.

“You won’t like her.”

The trees grew more dense as they rode further into the Crescent Woods, well beyond where most of the wolves would venture. The air grew thicker and more charged with things that were dead.

As the shack appeared in sight, half-hidden by shadow and moss, Serena's skin crawled. 

Smoke drifted from a leaning chimney, but no woodpile rested stacked outside.

Serena’s wolf stirred uneasily.

“Tell me that’s not a witch,” she said.

Soren dismounted first, already moving.

“It’s a witch.”

Wonderful.

Serena followed him reluctantly.

He walked to the door and knocked once. Then twice. The door opened with an exaggerated groan.

The woman standing inside looked more like a shadow than a person.

Her hair spilled down her back like pale ash. Her skin was thin and colorless, stretched over sharp bones. But her eyes—

Her eyes glowed with cold moonlight.

“What have you brought me this time, wolf boy?” she rasped.

Her voice sounded like dry leaves scraping across stone.

Soren gestured toward Serena.

“My cousin needs concealment.”

The witch’s gaze drifted over Serena slowly.

Her eyes paused at Serena’s chest, her hips, her face.

“You wish to walk among males unnoticed.”

It wasn’t a question.

Serena forced herself to meet the witch’s glowing eyes.

“Yes.”

The witch tilted her head slightly.

“It can be done.”

Serena’s pulse quickened.

“But,” the witch continued softly, “magic always demands a price.”

She stepped aside, allowing them inside.

The shack smelled of herbs, smoke, and something older… something that reminded Serena of damp earth and grave soil.

A black iron cauldron bubbled in the center of the room.

The witch circled Serena slowly.

“I can mask your scent,” she said. “Alter your form. Even reshape the tone of your voice.”

Serena’s heart pounded.

“But the body always remembers its truth,” the witch continued. “When the moon calls strongly enough, the spell will weaken.”

Serena frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“During your monthly cycle,” the witch said bluntly, “the magic will fail.”

Heat rushed into Serena’s face.

“And the longer you wear this disguise,” the witch added, “the more the spell will take from you.”

Serena didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll accept that.”

The witch smiled slowly.

“The witch's cracked, propped lips curled into something like amusement. "Very well."

She hovered over the cauldron situated in the center of the shack, pouring the herbs into the roiling black liquid. The smoke spiraled around Serena wrapping her like fingers, soaking into her skin. Heat flowed through her body followed by a sensation of being pulled and stretched that had her gasping for breath.

Finally the smoke cleared.

Serena stumbled slightly, catching herself against the table.

Her breathing came fast.

Slowly, she looked down at herself.

Her chest was flatter.

Her shoulders broader.

Her scent—

She froze.

It had changed completely.

The soft scent of a she-wolf had vanished.

Now it was the scent of a male and prime Alpha…

“It worked,” she whispered.

The witch chuckled quietly.

“Of course it did. But remember child, magic always demands a price.”

By the time Serena and Soren returned to Blood Hollow, the moon hung low in the sky.

Serena leaned over the water trough outside the stable.

The reflection staring back at her made her pause.

It was as if she was looking back at Soren’s twin.

Her cousin leaned beside her, grinning.

“You’re insane,” he said.

Serena smiled faintly.

Soren clapped her shoulder.

“But Mooncrest might just need your kind of insanity.”

Serena looked up toward the distant mountains where her pack slept.

Tomorrow she would enter the Alpha Dominion Academy.

A place filled with powerful young wolves who would tear her apart the moment they discovered her secret.

Yet for the first time since the council meeting, something like hope stirred in her chest.

Tonight she allowed herself one small victory.

But long after the house had gone silent and everyone slept, something strange happened.

The voice continued.

Report to Alpha Dominion Academy by dawn. Failure to report forfeits your acceptance.

Her blood turned to ice.

The spell wasn’t supposed to activate until tomorrow night.

She stared into the darkness, heart racing.

She had only hours left to become someone else.

The Alpha Dominion Academy stood before her like a monument.

It had high walls, ceilings, security at every corner.. a vast area. Everything.

Thus was the endgame of it all. All top Alpha heirs of all the top packs in the world came here.

This was where they groomed, trained, nurtured from just boys into men, into Alpha’s to not only lead, but dominate.

And now, Serena was here.. at long last she was here.

This was her chance of proving doubters wrong and telling them that she deserved to be here among the very best of them.

She rode all the way from her pack on her horse back.

The magic spell lingered, each step of her horse tormented her chest in possibility and agitated her throat. It was as if her body was revolting at the predecision moment. She kept the cloak clutched tight around her shoulders. 

She didn’t want the guards to detect even the softest hint of change in her scent warming with the pump of her breath.

“Name,” the gate attendant barked. An older, ashy Beta with calloused hands placed upon his knees, his greyed eyes looked hers over with cosmological questioning. 

Serena huffed under her cloaks before projecting with her voice lowered to deepen. “Soren Vale. Of Mooncrest.” 

The Beta looked around as his squint grew stronger; drawing a ragged breath to scan the parchment back at her.He dipped a claw in a vial of silver ink, touching the crest of the red of white of his bloodline. It flared momentarily, sealing the identity. "Blood check."

Serena swallowed hard, extending her hand. A razor thin edge nicked her thumb, her blood dropping into a shallow silver dish. The Beta studied the ripples, nostrils flaring once. For a moment, Serena's heart hammered so hard, she imagined the spell cracking under it.

Then the Beta grunted. "Moon crest bloodline confirmed. Dormitory 308. Orientation first bell. Don't be late."

The relief came so fast that she felt like she would fall to her knees. She offered a quick thank you and moved on into the courtyard where the next step in her act of deception would take place. 

The courtyard was filled with noise, the boys, some no older than fifteen, others gigantic and thick, vocalized in excitement or arrogance. Serena maneuvered her way through them, feigning cockiness, lifting her chin in the same way that she'd seen her cousin do nearly one thousand times. But her stomach flipped as she took in the scents, primal, aggressive, and unbridled.

These boys weren't sparring partners from her father's pack. These boys were heirs honed like blades, each thinking himself Alpha.

A commanding voice pierced through the noise. "Recruits! Line up!"

Without hesitation, the recruits fell into the line instinctively. Serena stepped into line, her hands clammy against her trousers.

The headmaster stepped forward, a tall, scarred wolf whose presence alone silenced the courtyard. His gray eyes scanned the recruits with disdain. "This Academy does not make boys. It makes Alphas. 

You will be pushed. You will be broken. If you survive, maybe you will deserve the bloodlines you proclaim. If you fail..." He smiled, coldly, devoid of humor. "The wolves beyond these walls will be pleased with the scraps."

A tension rippled through the recruits.

"Now," the headmaster went on, "welcome our four-stripe wonder. He will speak to you of what it means to survive on this mount."

Four stripes wonder?! That meant one thing.. and they all knew it. Him.

Serena's breath caught. She had heard the name, murmured in her father's hall, on the lips of elders who dared dream he might take his place on Mooncrest's throne.

He was the epitome of what it meant to truly take over as Alpha… the future of the werewolf world as a whole.

And now, as he stepped forward, she was looking at him herself

Damien Blackthorn.

Damien Blackthorn moved through the crowd like he was a knife slicing into butter.

He was taller than most, his physique broad but not fat, trained like a tool that has been sharpened for use. His dark hair curled in disarray about his jaw, although nothing about him suggested disarray because he moved with purpose. Every step was subdued, his shoulders square to match the storm in his blue eyes, which washed over the line of recruits like a tsunami bringing the weight of each syllable in the headmaster's voice to bare, power, command, and the silent threat of a wolf with nothing that ever lost.

Serena forced her eyes forward, the world falling in around her, but she felt him like a storm building above her. The whispers of the recruits confirmed her suspicions.

"That's him." 

"The heir to the Nightfang Pack.”

"He broke three seniors in sparring last year."

“I heard he got rank one only in his first year here..”

“He’s never lost a one on one duel. Ever!”

The murmurs didn’t do him justice enough. For Serena heard a lot of reports on him.. and he was much more capable than that…

When he arrived at the front of the crowd, the murmurs stopped as dead silence fell.

"Being here," Damien said evenly, though he was low, "doesn't make you Alpha."

He paused. His eyes repassion and roamed over the recruit's face again the cold steel of a sword as they scanned each of the faces.

What you will be doing here really does. You will be taken to task every day, by your peers, by your instructors, and by yourself. Fail once, and you will never get back up. The only thing that matters is strength. Keep that in mind. Strength or nothing.”

He stepped back, crossing his arms, as if he had already written them off.

The Headmaster nodded. “Each recruit will receive their first stripe now.”

One by one, the boys stepped up to the platform, their names called out loud, the mark sewn onto their uniforms in gold thread, and Serena could hear her pulse get louder with each name. She almost forgot to breathe when her name was called, her pulse pounding in her throat.

“Soren Vale of Mooncrest.”

She walked to the platform, her boots feeling like stones at her feet. Damien was standing there, a blank expression written on his face, holding the ceremonial needle in his hand. Up close, he was worse - dangerously magnetic. His scent twisted and penetrated her skin like smoke, sharp iron and it dug into her chest somehow more so than the roaring laughter from the elders.

They caught each other's gaze and for a second, she felt stripped. Could he see through the disguise? Did he already know?

Oh no if he did, then she was  f**ked!

Damien's hand was in motion not to her arm, but to her chest, his palm brushing where her disguise pressed hardest.

Instinct screamed like a siren. Serena's body acted before her mind processed the situation.

SLAP!

The sound reverberated throughout the quad. Gasps rippled through the recruits. Damien's head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming across his jaw.

Serena's hand hung in the air, trembling. Panic gripped her throat. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

What the hell has she done?

She literally slapped the school’s most prestigious student on her very first day…

Shit. Shit. She had to do something. She had to salvage this situation.

"I...," she stammered. "There was a bug. I thought..."

For one breathless second, the silence felt so thick that she thought she would choke.

All eyes of the students, even the Headmaster, were on her and Damein.

Everyone was waiting for a reaction, then—

Then Damien laughed, his tone amusing, but dangerous.

 He rubbed his jaw, his lips curving in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Bug slayer, huh?"

He leaned in close enough for only her to hear. "Careful, Vale. First day, and you already bite."

Her knees nearly buckled. He stitched the stripe onto her sleeve, then waved her away as if she were nothing more than a curiosity. But Serena felt the weight of his gaze burning into her back long after she returned to the line.

The ceremony was over, but the recruits whispered as they dispersed. 

"You see that?"

"He slapped Blackthorn!"

“He'll be dead by morning, I can promise.”

“I got to give it to him.. he has balls and a lot of nerve. Too bad it was on Damien..”

Serena tightened her hands into fists. With every set of eyes on her, she felt as if she had been stabbed.

When she reached the dorm that had been assigned to her, she pushed the door open with shaky hands.

 The room was tidy, and it smelled softly of cedar and steel. One of the beds was already occupied, the sheets covered by a large duffle bag.

She stilled.

By the window, a figure with broad shoulders was highlighted by the sunlight. He glanced back towards her at her entrance, gray eyes dancing with mirth.

"Well," Damien drawled slowly, an evil grin stretching, "if it isn't my new roommate. The bug slayer."

Serena's gut dropped.

May the moon save me.

Serena is trapped. Her disguise barely survived the first day, she has made a public enemy of Damien, and now she is stuck sharing a room with him.

Serena tightened her grip on the doorframe. For the briefest moment, she considered evading the matter before her, pretending she made a mistake and this was not the room assigned to her. But Damien's smirk told her he knew there would be no escaping this time.

He leaned back in his chair like the king of his castle, his boots crossed at the ankles, as if this room was his, and she was invading it. "Are you just going to stand there all day, Vale, or did you just decide to move in?"

Serena finally got her feet to move and stepped into the room. There was a palpable tenseness in the air around them, every intake of breath felt like a blade scrapping her lungs. She dropped her bag onto the empty bed, and faced away from him for as long as possible. 

"You're awfully quiet now," Damien drawled. "Not the same wolf who slapped me in front of half the Academy."

A flush crept up her neck. She fought to keep her voice steady and even lower and masculine than normal. "I told you it was a bug."

"Mm." His chuckle turned low and dangerous. "If that's your excuse, you should keep practicing better lies. Alphas can count deception on their breath." 

Serena froze. Careful. "Then maybe you're not much of an Alpha, since you believed me."

Silence.

She risked a quick glance, using the Art of Distraction. Damien was looking at her, his eyes narrowed, his mouth twisted somewhere between annoyance and amusement. "I'll give you that, Vale. You've got teeth. Most pups keep their heads down on day one. But not you."

It took all her effort to manage a shrug, while her heart was pounding against her chest. "I guess I'm not most pups."

"Maybe not.” He tilted his head, examining her with unnerving intensity. "Regardless. Wolves who display teeth too early don't last here."

The comment was casual, but there was a warning contained within that cut deep.

Serena turned back to her bag, fiddling with the straps to keep her hands busy. She needed to get some air and try to regulate her pulse, or he would pick up on the nerves radiating off her body.

The silence dragged on, and she could feel his eyes still honing in on her taking inventory of her confidence, possibly peeling off layers she wasn't ready to reveal just yet. Only when the Academy bell tolled in the distance, did he finally stand.

“Orientation’s over," Damien declared. "Next is the first test. "I’d hate to lose my roommate before I've had a proper chance to see how much trouble he’s going to be in. Don’t be late." 

He brushed her shoulder as he sidestepped her view. The faintest touch of his shoulder to hers leaped to a heat rush in her stride. And just like that, as he disappeared, now it was Serena standing breathlessly planted, feeling more naked in her digs than even.

The training fields were buzzing with anticipation. All the new recruits were excited and at the same time, anxious..

With good reason, this was their chance to either make a good or a bad first impression.

And first impressions in places like this, we’re always important.

An instructor stepped forward, an angry looking scar running from the ridges of his brow down to his jaw.

Prof, Argval.

“First test,” he rasped, “cross the river with the weight.”

He kicked a bag onto the ground that landed with a thump that echoed in Serena’s bones. When it opened, she could see that it had rocks that looked as heavy as sin.

“You will tie a bag around you, and you will swim to the other side.” He said, “If you untie the bag, you will fail. If you drown, you fail harder. Welcome to the Dominion."

There was a flutter of nervous laughter that swept through the recruits, but it was crushed out quickly by the weight of his glaring look.

Serena's stomach tightened. While she had practiced in rivers, this was unlike anything she had ever encountered. The current was voracious, predatory. 

She could feel the weight at her waist—there was no way she would float; she would plummet like a rock.

Names were read out loud.

 One by one, the boys hit the water. A couple of them swam across the river, splashing and clawing their way to safety, bleeding but alive.

 A few of them cut the rope halfway in, panting as they clambered onto the rocks. And then two unconscious boys were rescued by upperclassmen.

Then—

"Soren Vale!"

…her legs were almost paralyzed when she heard the name. 

But she stepped out anyway, without hesitation, feeling sick to her stomach and her heart pounding in her chest.

The sack felt uncomfortably heavy as it was tied around her waist, already dragging at her as she approached the bank. She swallowed hard and stared down at the water twirling and pummeling below her.

You cannot fail, there's too much at stake. Not now. Not on the first day.

The right impression mattered…

She jumped.

The river swallowed her whole. 

Cold slammed against her chest and took her breath away. The sack pulled her down and sent her tumbling into darkness. Her arms beat the water, legs desperately kicking against the weight of the current. Foam burned her eyes and filled her mouth.

She fought against the current, hardly able to push through a small space of air to take a breath before she was dragged down again.

Cut the rope, the voice in her head screamed. Save yourself.

But if she did it would be over for her. She would be exposed and worthless.

She felt her hand fumbling for the knife strapped to her thigh, but her fingers were numb. Her ankle smashed against a rock and pain flashed white-hot through her. Panic began to claw at her ribs.

Then hands.

Strong hands, hands that weren’t going to let go, snaked around her waist. Hans that were yanking her up, up, until the sound of the river disappeared into the air.

Serena coughed, hard. Water spilled from her lungs. Everything blurred, but she could see a figure standing over her.

Damien.

Damien Blackthorn rescued her?!…

That was the last thought that passed her brain before the darkness took her.

Serena was walking through the corridors and finally arrived at her room in the thick of the night.

Damein was there, standing right at the center, like he was waiting for her all along.

“What’s the problem?” She asked cautiously.

Then in a flash…

Damein crossed the room and was in front of her. “I know your secret! Girl!”

“No!!”

Serena was abruptly pulled from her sleep.

She took in heavy breaths…trying to remind herself that it was just a dream.

It was just a dream…nothing more

Above her was a brightly lit white stone ceiling, washed in the multiple sunbeams that flooded the room and caused her to squint her eyes. 

For a brief moment, she thought she was back home at Mooncrest in her father’s manor and that everything about the Academy had been a dreadful dream.

Then, she attempted to sit up, and the pain shot through her lungs like fire. She could still hear the river's roar deep in her chest.

“Welcome back.” 

The voice belonged to the shadowy corner of the room. 

Her heart skipped one beat then a second slowly she turned her head, but she already knew who she would find. 

Damien Blackthorne leaned against the wall with his arms folded, his shadow long in the light of the morning. His eyes still glowed, sharper and colder than the river water in which she almost drowned, but there was also something else in his gaze that made her anxious, one that had nothing to do with any judgement he had of her. 

He pushed away from the wall and stepped toward her. “You almost drowned, Vale.”

Serena swallowed, really working to keep her voice even, masculine. “I didn’t cut the rope.”

“No," Damien whispered, stopping at the foot of her cot.

"You did not. You chose death instead of failure. Admirable- or stupid. I haven't decided yet." 

Heat rose in her neck. She fought to offer a sideways smile. "Maybe I just dislike losing." 

Damien kept his eyes on her longer than he needed to, looking at her as one looks at a catalog. She fought the desire to pull the blanket closer around herself. 

"You are reckless," he finally said, "that sort of recklessness gets wolves killed here." 

"Then I'll just have to be careful about which wolves I sit beside," she said, trying to add a layer of bravado to mask the anxiety stirring in her chest. 

For the first time, the corners of his lips twitched. Not a smile, but close. "Take care, bug slayer. Keep that up and I might start to like you." 

Her heart raced, but she found the strength to scoff. "I will take my chances with the river, thanks."

The healer returned before Damien was able to respond, checking Serena's ribs while clucking her tongue. "You will live. Don't push yourself in the next trial." 

Next trial?!

Serena's stomach knotted. She had barely succeeded in the first. What would she need for the next trial?

By the time she arrived back at the dormitory, the sun had sunk quite low in the sky and cast the walls with golden light. Damien sat at the desk, methodically buffing a dagger. The blade caught the light, narrow enough to cut a hair into two pieces.

He did not glance up as the door opened, “You will be fighting tomorrow.”

Her throat constricted, “Fighting?”

“Going into the sparring matches. A one-on-one fight. In front of the council and all of the elder Alpha’s. It's to test dominance.” He turned his gaze to her, studying her face with squinting eyes. “You don’t look ready."

“I will be fine.”

“You almost drowned in the river,” 

Serena bit down on her tongue. She wanted to snap back, tell him that she would be fine because she had been through worse than drowning in water, worse than people laughing at her, worse than him. But her chest tightened with fear of the other spell.

The witch had warned her. It would eventually crumble during her moon cycle. Her scent, her shape, her voice would all be a fragile seam of the disguise. 

And tonight, she had felt the first.

She had scrupulously hidden the bloodstains. She had wrapped the cloth tighter than expected, tighter than armor, but she felt the spell tug on her body, the seams creeping into her skin, what if Damien scented her even a fraction of her true self? If he did it was finished.

She steeled herself to return his gaze, firm. “I will manage,” she said again.

Damien looked at her for a long moment, his eyes inscrutable. Then he turned back to the knife. “I hope that is true for your own sake, Vale.”

The arena was alive with noise the next morning. Torches blazed against the stone walls, smoke curling into the rafters. The smell of sweat, blood, and anticipation hung thick in the air. The recruits were all lined up with stiff uniforms, tense faces.

Serena found her heart pounding at the sound of the headmaster’s voice carrying across the arena. “Today you will find out if you are wolves or pups. If you win, you will survive. If you lose, you will be shamed. Fight until your opponent yields or cannot rise.”

Packs of wolves were called to the centre one at a time, and pairs wrestled each other-- claws raked, teeth bared. The crowd roared with each new hit, each fall.

Finally, Serena heard her name-"Soren Vale!"-and it seemed to ring in her bones. She stepped forward, though it felt like she had a weight on her shoulders. Her jaw was set.

Her opponent was a boy of brute stature. He is a head taller than Serena and his muscles were bulging from underneath his uniform. He grinned and looked at her like a wolf eyeing its prey. “Mooncrest? I thought that pack was dead.”

Serena remained silent.

The whistle blew.

He rushed at her, delivering a fast punch toward her chin. She ducked just in time, feeling the air pass by her ear. Instinct took over, allowing her father’s training and all her nights spent practicing to flash in her mind, together with bruises she had hidden from the parents that thought little of it.

She moved like water, swift and sharp, to hit his rib cage, a strike to the throat, and a quick knee to the leg. The boy grunted and moved away from her, astonishment flicking across his face.

“Lucky shot,” he spat before charging in again.

Serena's heartbeat was pounding in her head. She evaded, struck back, and evaded again. But the spell was tugging against her body and her chest was awash with heat, her scent spilling from her as she lost focus. She fought harder, faster, wanting to end things before anyone realized what had happened.

Finally, she saw it. He was overly wide in stance and had his weight on the wrong foot. She sprung backward, turned into him, loaded her elbow, and slammed it right into his temple, where he dropped straight to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd erupted.

“Vale wins!” the headmaster roared.

Serena stood over her opponent, breathing heavily, with sweat running down her temple. For a moment, all was a triumph, sharp and intoxicating.

Then she felt it. 

Damien was burning a hole through her from across the arena.

There was neither clapping nor cheering. His eyes were locked on her, narrowed, his nostrils flaring as if he had picked up a scent that no one else was aware of.

Her stomach sank like ice.

That night in their dorm, Serena was mindful to appear casual while changing and unfolded every last inch of fabric too methodically. She could sense Damien's weighty gaze at her back like a disruptively heavy blade.

At last, he spoke. “You fight like no wolf I've witnessed before..”

Her heart started beating even faster now…

Damien stepped closer to her now. “You smell different.. fight different, act different, it’s almost as if you’re a…

…girl.”

Serena’s blood went cold instantly.