The gates of Mooncrest Academy loomed like the jaws of some ancient beast—tall, dark, and unwelcoming. Crafted from blackened iron and inscribed with protective runes that glowed faintly blue, they pulsed with ancient magic. To many, the gates were a symbol of honor—of ascending into a future carved by strength and heritage.
To me, they were a barrier between everything I would ever know and a world I could never quite reach.
My fingers tightened around the handle of my duffel bag. The cold wind nipped at her cheeks as the gates creaked open. I stepped through, heart pounding, legs steady.
The academy sprawled before me like a kingdom. Stone buildings rose in silent glory, cloaked in ivy and shadow. Spiral towers jutted from the hills, their windows glowing like eyes in the mist. A massive waterfall spilled behind the east wing, its spray forming an arc of shimmering droplets. Somewhere high above, a bell chimed—deep, ancient, and commanding.
Students hurried in every direction, dressed in sleek uniforms marked by rank: gold-trimmed red for Alphas, deep forest green for Betas, and grey for Omegas. Packs clustered together. Their scents flooded the air—dominance, confidence, aggression. Laughter echoed. A girl shifted playfully mid-run. Another tossed fire from her fingertips to impress a group of boys.
I didn't speak. Couldn't. And no one stopped to notice.
The administration building smelled like old parchment and cold stone. Inside, an omega woman handed her a folder without a glance. Aria read the contents: her dorm assignment, her schedule, a list of rules. At the bottom, a dark grey armband with the omega symbol.
I slid it onto my wrist like a shackle.
My dorm was located in the South Wing—the coldest and oldest section of the school. The hallways were narrow and dimly lit, with windows that overlooked the northern cliffs. Paint peeled from the doors. My room, 42B, was small and barely furnished. A bed, a chipped desk, and a wardrobe that creaked when opened.
The other bed was already claimed. On it sat a girl with rich cinnamon-toned skin and short black curls. Her eyes were striking—a stormy blue with flecks of silver. She didn't bother standing.
"You're the mute one, right?" she asked.
Aria nodded cautiously.
The girl shrugged. "Name's Nessa. Don't worry, I'm not chatty either."
That surprised Aria. She hadn't expected kindness.
Nessa smirked. "But if you use my shampoo, I'll kill you."
And just like that, Aria let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Later that day, with her uniform finally settled around her shoulders, Aria followed a stone path toward the training fields. Her first class: Combat Techniques for Feral Defense.
The coliseum was breathtaking—ancient, round, and built from black obsidian stone. The runes engraved on the arena floor shimmered faintly beneath the light filtering through its open roof. Students filed into the ring, each radiating power and competitive hunger.
Aria stayed near the edge, clutching the straps of her bag.
Then, the air shifted.
He arrived.
Alpha Kieran Thorne.
He didn't bark orders or announce himself. He didn't need to.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in black tactical gear, he moved like a predator—silent, controlled, lethal. His dark hair was cropped close on the sides, tousled on top. A jagged scar split his right brow, giving his sharp face an edge that turned heads. Even from a distance, his energy was unmistakable. Pure Alpha. Absolute authority.
But it wasn't just the strength that struck her. It was his stillness. Like a storm waiting to break.
I didn't realize I had been staring until his eyes met mine.
Silver. Cold. Piercing.
My breath hitched.
He held my gaze—not with judgment, but with something unreadable. A flicker of recognition. Curiosity. Maybe even… concern?
"Pair up," he said, voice low and commanding. "Let's see what you can do."
Students scrambled to find partners. I remained still, invisible in the chaos.
Until a tall boy with golden hair and a sneer pointed my way.
"I'll take the runt."
I nodded, stepping into the sparring ring. My hands trembled slightly—but not from fear. Something in me stirred. My wolf pressed forward, alert. Hungry.
The boy launched himself at me.
Fast. Brutal. Confident.
I spun on instinct, avoiding the strike. He came again, faster, this time with claws extended. I ducked, twisted, and swept his leg out from under him. He hit the floor with a hard thud.
Gasps echoed around the ring.
He snarled, lunging at me again—but I was quicker. My movements were fluid, surgical. I parried, countered, and landed a clean elbow against his chest that sent him stumbling back, winded and humiliated.
Silence stretched across the arena.
Alpha Kieran stepped forward.
"Name?" he asked.
I opened her mouth.
Nothing.
"She's mute," someone said. "Omega."
A pause. The tension in the air thickened—but not with scorn. Kieran's expression didn't shift.
Instead, his gaze intensified.
"Stay after class," he said.
A storm of whispers followed.
"She caught his eye—"
"Did you see that flip?"
"No way she's just an omega…"
But Aria heard none of it.
All I could feel was the fire in my chest— my wolf, pacing with restless pride. Someone had seen me. Seen me.
As the class disbanded, I stayed where I was, clutching the strap of my bag with white knuckles. My heart beat like a war drum in my chest. I could feel the stares—curious, skeptical, some resentful—but I focused only on him.
Alpha Kieran approached, steps silent despite the heavy boots. Up close, his scent hit me—clean rain and steel, threaded with something wild and ancient. A commanding presence cloaked him like armor, and yet… beneath it, there was something else. A subtle ache. Like a ghost that lingered too long.
He stopped just short of me.
His gaze raked over menot in judgment, not even in curiosity, but in calculation. As if he was trying to solve something he couldn't yet name.
"You're not just an omega," he said, voice low.
I blinked at him, unsure what to do. My throat tightened instinctively.
"Do you understand me?" he asked.
I nodded once.
His jaw tensed. "What's your name?"
I stepped back, reached into my satchel, and pulled out a small notepad. I scrawled one word.
Aria.
He read it. Then again.
"You're fast. Controlled. You weren't trained like the rest of these pups," he said. "Who taught you?"
Aria wrote again: No one. I practiced. Watched. Learned.
His brow arched slightly. Not mockery—interest. His silver gaze was intense, not unkind.
"You've got a wolf that's barely leashed," he murmured. "That's not typical for omegas. Especially not quiet ones."
I flinched. I had spent years burying the beast inside me. But since arriving here, my wolf had stirred like a dormant flame catching wind.
"You'll train with me," he said suddenly.
I looked up sharply.
Kieran continued, his voice cool and final. "Private sessions. I want to see what's waking up inside you."
My fingers twitched against the pad, but I didn't write anything. My wolf surged with restless pride, howling softly in the corners of my mind. I didn't need words to answer.
He already knew.
"Dismissed," he said.
As I turned to leave, I didn't see the way his eyes followed me, stormy and unreadable.
But others did.
Across the arena, Nessa leaned on the railing with narrowed eyes.
"You just became every girl's problem," she muttered.
Back in the dorm, I dropped onto my bed, exhausted yet alert. My entire body hummed with something new—not adrenaline, not exactly.
Recognition.
For the first time in my life, someone had seen me not as broken… but as something dangerous.
Nessa glanced over from her desk. "You made waves today. That spar? You looked like you were possessed."
I tilted my head, curious.
"I'm saying it was badass," Nessa clarified, kicking off her boots. "But also… dangerous."
I offered a small, closed-mouth smile.
Nessa smirked. "Don't go catching feelings for that Alpha though. He's… complicated. Heard his mate ran off years ago and left him cold as stone."
My expression didn't change, but my heart did something strange.
Mate?
My wolf bristled.
Suddenly, the air in the room seemed thinner.
I stood and walked to the window, staring out across the academy grounds. Beyond the cliffside, the moon began its rise—pale and full, casting silver over everything.
I touched the glass.
The wolf stirred again, this time more clearly than ever.
He saw us, it whispered. And he is ours.
I swallowed hard.
Mooncrest had been meant as my prison.
But now… it might just be my beginning.